The Day I Met Kathy

For Kathy, it was just another start of the school year. The first day of 10th grade at East Kentwood High School. I’m betting she couldn’t wait for 10th Grade to start. She loved school. She had lots of friends.

For me, it was a terrifying first day at a new school and I was about to be “the new kid”. In my previous life, I wasn’t exactly nice to new kids.

I grew up in Sterling Heights, Michigan. Right there on good ol’ Fox Hill Drive. I had neighborhood friends. I was close with my family and cousins and they all lived close by. I was a Freshman at Notre Dame Harper Woods … a school my grandfather built and where all four of my Uncles went. At 14 years old, I pretty much had life figured out.

My Dad was a Tool & Diemaker at a Cadillac plant in downtown Detroit. It was 1987. The Detroit auto manufacturing scene was changing and with it, so did my life. General Motors decided to close the Cadillac factory. Which meant my Dad had a couple of choices. Either (1) hope for the best and find another job in the Detroit area *or* (2) move to Grand Blanc *or* move to Grand Rapids.

We picked Grand Rapids. My Mom had an Aunt that lived there and so, I guess, it felt more familiar than Grand Blanc.

So Freshman Don, with new friends and a 4.0 grade point average had to move.

My parents did everything right and tried the best they could to make the move easy on me. I did everything to make it difficult for them. I was mad. It wasn’t fair. One minute I had everything figured out. The next, I was embarking on the complete unknown.

I picked East Kentwood. Again, my parents doing everything to make this easier for me, took me to Grand Rapids for a long weekend and we toured a few high schools. Drove around neighborhoods. They tried to make me part of the decision on where to live and, when I think about it, I really did decide on Kentwood. What I remember was … wow … the biggest high school I’d ever seen. It had a Freshman wing. It had a huge gym (they called it a “fieldhouse”). It had an auditorium. A pool. East Kentwood High School had it’s own ice rink. It looked like an 80s high-school straight out of a John Hughes movie and so that’s where we decided to live.

What you don’t think about, or at least what I didn’t think about, was the fact when you decide on a massive high-school it means a massive amount of students go there, too. A “new kid” can get swallowed up. A “new kid” can go unnoticed and it’s intimidating and when that “new kid” came from a place where he knew everyone to a place her knows noone, it’s traumatic. I give credit to kids who move or change schools and just figure it out. For me? It wasn’t easy.

What does all of this backstory have to do with Kathy? I’m getting there.

The summer of 1988 was spent selling my childhood home, packing up our home, and moving to Grand Rapids. We decided to build a new house, so we moved temporarily to an apartment while we waited for our house to be built. Just another reason for me to be angry about everything … yes, I would be in a new house with my own room, shortly, but I had my own room in my old house and my old life, so living in an apartment, sleeping in a bunkbed with my brother in the same room as my sister …hardly the vision I had for myself as a high-school sophomore.

Finally, the first day of school came. My Mom drove me to school. Which really was a nice thing. I guess I could’ve taken the bus, but the idea was to meet my counselor, Mr. Pol, and he would walk me to my 1st-hour class. That also seemed like a nice thing until it actually happened and you realize, oh, I was gonna be like a science experiment.

Mr. Pol said, “we’ll just wait until the bell rings and then I’ll walk you down.”

I hugged my Mom. She was crying. She walked out and left me sitting Mr. Pol’s office. I was sick to my stomach. I didn’t want to be here. I wanted to be back at Notre Dame Harper Woods with Nico and Brian and Jim and going to soccer tryouts to make J.V. …instead I was sitting there, in my guidance counselor’s office while he talked to another counselor, just waiting.

The bell rang.

He said, “OK. Let’s go.”

I think I mentioned East Kentwood was huge, right? It never felt bigger than when you’re walking through empty halls on your first day with your guidance counselor.

We went down one hall. Then another. Turned a corner. Then another. I think I saw my locker. But I can’t remember from the tour. I didn’t know where I was. Then down another hallway and we came to my classroom. Mrs. Spangler’s Honors English class. He turned the door knob. Opened the door. Held it open for me and we walked in.

I don’t know what would’ve been worse? If everyone had stopped instantly and stared, or that nobody even looked or noticed. Nobody looked or noticed. Which woud’ve been nice. But Mr. Pol was going to introduce me.

“Hey, everyone. This is Don Kowo .. kowo looski. He just moved here from Detroit.”

Now they were staring.

Mrs. Spangler interrupted, “I didn’t know I was getting a new student.”

Mr. Pol siad, “Oh. OK. Let’s see if we can find you a desk.”

Which meant, he was about to leave the room and leave me standing there, the new kid, without a desk. For who knew how long and then, luckily, Mrs. Spangler said, “well, it’s OK for today and tomorrow. Kenny Bradford is still on vacation with is family, so his desk is open.”

Mr. Pol and Mrs. Spangler compared notes and made a plan. I saw the open desk. I sat down. Class started.

Kenny Bradford was on vacation, so I got his desk. Mrs. Spangler had made a seating chart in alphabetical order and in front of me was Ryan Boeskool and behind me was Kathy Bulkowski.

Eventually, there was a break for some reading or whatever and that’s when it happened. The girl behind me, Kathy Bulkowski, tapped me on the shoulder and started talking to me.

“Hi,” she said. “I’m Kathy.”

Just like that.

Then she said, “you’re from Detroit. Ohhhh, wow. Is it scary?”

Back in 1988, if you weren’t from the Detroit area, I think Detroit was known as the Murder Capital and if you didn’t live in Detroit, most people knew it for the murder rate or for it’s famed Devil’s Night fires. Johnny Carson often made Detroit the butt of jokes.

“No, well, I’m not actually from the city of Detroit, I’m from Sterling Heights,” I explained.

Kathy continued, “oh, I’ve never heard of Sterling Heights. Do you play sports?”

“I play soccer.”

“Ohhhhhh, wooooow. I play soccer, too,” she said. I have to mention this … Kathy talked like a Valley Girl and it was awesome.

“I’m going to introduce you to Matt. He plays soccer.”

And, so she did. She got Matt’s attention and said, “this is Don. He plays soccer.”

Matt was very nice. He said, “that’s cool. What position do you play?” We talked for just a minute and this was also crucial because in 3rd Hour, gym class, Matt was there, and when we had to pair up with people for badmitton partners, Matt picked me … picked me instead of his other friends John and Josh … and because of him, I made two more friends.

Note: Matt Vrtis became one of my best friends in high school.

But not because of him. It was because of Kathy. She talked to me. She asked me questions. She told me about the school.

“Is Detroit scary?”

“Do you play any sports?”

“Do you have a big family?”

“Are you Polish?”

“Do you have brothers and sisters? Oh, they’re going to Crestwood. That’s where I went to middle school.”

And when I saw her in 5th hour Math, she said hello again and talked to me.

What I noticed was Kathy … knew …. everyone. She talked alot. She talked to everyone. And everyone teased her and everyone seemed to like her.

And she talked to me.

We didn’t start dating. We didn’t hang out after school. We had a few classes together.

That was it. But what she did was the nicest thing anyone could’ve done.

A simple, “Hi.”

That was Kathy Bulkowski, who, many years later, would make me even luckier when she married me and became Kathy Kowalewski. She was ridiculously nice. She was always smiling. If there was anyone at East Kentwood that didn’t like her, I never met that person.

And she was smart. Like, really smart despite the Valley Girl speech pattern.

She changed my life that day and then changed it again and again and again, always for the better, for years and years and she still does. She makes my life better every day.

I think about that day and that simple, “hello” that made a terrible day not-so-terrible and I’ve spoken about the power of a smile and a “hello” and how, you never know, it could be more powerful than you’d ever imagine. The version of me I am today and that I’ve been evolving into is a guy who will talk with anyone, anywhere. I’ll always say hello to people. I like people. I’m not perfect at being a great human and have a long way to go to match Kathy’s natural ability to be a great person … but I’m always working on it.

In 1988, when I thought I was having the worst year, worst summer, and I thought my first-day at a new school as the new kid was gonna be the worst day ever …

Turns out.

It was the day I met Kathy and it was best day ever.