This an epilogue to my previous story about my English friend and how we met here in the New World. As I wrote we lost touch after the 1956 events, but because his mom and my were friends and talked to each other frequently, I kind of knew what he was doing and where he was. But still was surprised when out of the blue, about 25 or 30 years ago I got a call from somebody who knew my name, and spoke Hungarian and knew me from way back then.
I did not recognize his voice and that confuse me even more but when eventually he told me his name a light came on in my head. He told me he got my number from a mutual friend who also lived in New York, although we did not keep in touch with.
We agreed to meet next day in Manhattan in the Waldorf Astoria Hotel in the main lobby under the big clock. This was easier than done. My wife and I went there and waited and waited. Nobody approached us so we continued waiting. Honestly, I didn't see my friend for about 20-25 years and didn't know what he looked like. I was still remembering the young lad he was when we used to meet. Well, there was nobody who even vaguely reminded me of the good looking young man he was. So we just waited.
Eventually all the other people left, met their parties and just us and another couple remained. We circled each other for awhile until I think he, carefully asked me if I was whom he was looking for. And the rest is history.
The bottom line is as time went by I guess I also changed because my friend had the same qualms about me as I had about him.
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