The reunion between long-lost friends Ros and Sue is a story you'll need to read to believe.
By Susanne Blatt, 3-time traveler from Worcester, MA
"It is a part of probability that improbable things will happen."
— Aristotle, Poetics
We sat in a circle, fourteen of us, ready for Overseas Adventure Travel’s Chile & Argentina: The Andes to Patagonia adventure. On that first day in Buenos Aires, one by one we introduced ourselves, mostly just by first name. We mentioned where we were from and what we hoped to see and learn on this trip. Some of us were traveling with family members, but mostly we were strangers to each other, soon to share the joy of travel and camaraderie in a part of the world none of us had ever visited before.
Across the room from me sat Ros Carol. She said she lived in California. Later in the day, I asked her where in California she lived, "San Carlos," she said. "It’s about 30 miles south of San Francisco."
"I know where San Carlos is." I said. "I used to live in the Bay Area. I taught elementary school in Newark and Palo Alto."
"Really?" she said. "I taught elementary school, too—in Menlo Park."
We left our conversation dangling there. But my head started to spin:
I knew a Ros once who taught in Menlo Park many years ago, back in the early 1960s. We were in the same post-graduate program at San Jose State University working toward teaching certification. We car-pooled every day. We were both newly married, in our early twenties. Both our husbands were studying at Stanford University, mine in physics, hers in psychiatry. We had become fast friends. We each had our first babies around the same time. We formed a play group and a book club, and went to the beach together with our husbands and babies. I moved to Ohio in 1964 while she remained in California. Over the years we lost track of one another. Our lives went in different directions. Could she possibly be the same Ros I knew more than 50 years ago? If so, was she thinking the same of me? Not likely, I thought. Yet, there was something about her… especially the eyes…
Our second day was filled with a walking and bus tour, a tango lesson, a tango show, a tour of the Teatro Colón, and trying to recover from the long flight the day before. It was past midnight when we returned to our hotel after the tango show. Throughout the long day and even as I lay awake, my mind considered the odds. She did look somewhat familiar, but a lot of people look like other people. Lots of peopled are named Ros. Lots of people taught in Menlo Park. After half a century. Not likely, I thought. But, the eyes… They say the eyes never change…
During breakfast on the third day, Ros mentioned that she was originally Canadian and that when she became an American citizen her parents had been so upset that they sat shiva, the Jewish mourning ritual. There was my "aha" moment. The improbable had just become probable. The Ros I knew was from Toronto and Jewish. I needed only to verify a couple more bits of information.
In the afternoon, we stood in line in the crowded Buenos Aires airport waiting to check in for our flight to Bariloche. I moved up the line to be closer to Ros, and I asked her what prompted her move from Canada to California.
In my heart I knew her answer. My mind had already silently formed the words she would speak. I need only to hear them. "I was 21, just married, and my husband was a resident in psychiatry at Stanford University."
"And your name was Ros Newton?"
She stared at me for a long moment. "Yes! How do you know that?"
"I’m Sue Blatt," I said, as the shock of recognition suddenly hit her.
"Oh, my God! Sue Blatt! You were my best friend," She cried.
Dozens of people standing around us were witnesses to this not-to-be-believed reunion. Some even said, "Where are the TV cameras?" Others were amazed that we were meeting for the first time after 50 years right there in the Buenos Aires airport! For everyone within earshot, and especially for Ros and me, this improbable scene felt more like a tableau of the surreal.
For the next two weeks, we recounted much of our life’s journey over the past 50 years and delighted in discovering how alike we still were. We were friends then because we shared similar interests and ideals. Our core values had not changed over the years. We vowed to remain in touch. We got a chance to philosophize over our adult lives. We were in our early 20s when we last saw each other, and now 50 years later we had lived most of our adult lives. We talked about our successes and what still remained as dreams. How precious this time was!
O.A.T. promised adventure and discovery through travel. O.A.T. did well on this trip! So did Ros and I! She said it best: "What a wonderful gift we were given!
In telling this improbable story, I need to thank Ros Carol for her review and suggestions, as well as her delight in wanting to share it with others.
We can’t guarantee a chance reunion, but we can guarantee adventure and discovery on our Chile & Argentina: The Andes to Patagonia adventure.
