The nomadic Life

The Love That Never Died

Chapter 23

People enter our lives for reasons unknown, some to teach us lessons, others to leave marks so deep they never fade. For Dewey, love was not a fleeting whisper but a force that endured, leaving both him and Richard forever changed.

Richard introduced me to Dewey Buckley in the spring of 1987. At first glance I found him to be unremarkable. There was no denying he was a well-educated man who carried himself with the quiet confidence of someone who spends his life among books, preferring the company of intellectuals like Richard. Men of his status usually look past a country bumpkin with calloused hands and someone who seems proud to be an average man without so much as a high school diploma. As we had nothing in common other than Richard, I chose to keep my distance from Dewey at first.

But something about him was different. Beneath his refined exterior, behind the measured words and composed demeanor, there was something else, an unspoken sadness which lingered just beneath the surface, hidden from the world yet impossible to ignore. It wasn’t dramatic or attention-seeking, but rather the kind of sorrow that had settled deep, becoming a part of him, as if he had spent a lifetime carrying a quiet ache, he wished for the world never to see.

He was not a man who stood out in a crowd. Tall and lean, exuding an unassuming nature as he moved through life with quiet dignity. Highly educated, with a doctorate in foreign languages and history, he carried his intellect humbly, never flaunting his wealth or position. Though he had climbed from professor to dean at Belhaven College, he never sought luxury. He lived as he always had, with his mother, in a modest house which reflected her beliefs and personality.

Mrs. Buckley, a woman having survived the lean years of the Great Depression, was the kind who, as she often said, could “squeeze a nickel until the buffalo pooped.” Frugality was not just a practice but a principle, one she instilled in her children. Yet life had granted them an unexpected fortune. Oil was found on the family’s farm in Monticello, Mississippi, providing enough financial security to ensure that the Buckley’s would never worry about money again. Still, it changed nothing in the way she lived or raised her family. Instilling a strong work ethic in her son and daughter was paramount. She would not spoil them with luxuries. Her children would have to earn their allowances, doing chores and excelling in school. Their father led by example.

Mr. Buckley was a down to earth kind of man. One who believed that it was a man’s duty to work hard and provide for his family. A high school drop-out himself, he worked as a service station attendant, building his way up to ownership. Even after the oil money came in, he refused to let it make him soft. He labored until the day his heart failed him, leaving behind a legacy of integrity.

Dewey took those lessons to heart, though his greatest struggle was one his parents never understood or could have prepared him for.

1955: The Beginning of Everything

Dewey was in his final year of study when he met Richard. A strikingly handsome freshman from Chicago, Richard was everything Dewey was not; bold and self-assured. He was a young man who moved through life with the effortless confidence of someone who knew his worth. He was charming, the kind of person people gravitated toward. All the girls loved him, and the guys, jealous.

Dewey, by contrast, was quiet and reserved. His features were not what one would call classically handsome, and his shyness often overshadowed his intellect. He had never considered himself the type of man to capture anyone’s attention, least of all someone like Richard.

Yet, it happened.

It began under the guise of tutoring. They would go over French lessons in the library. Long evenings were spent as the two young men poured over word origins and proper pronunciations. Dewey told himself it was about academics, that the flutter in his chest when Richard laughed went beyond admiration. What he did not know was that Richard, despite his confidence, was feeling something just as unsettling.

Years later, Richard would admit that he hadn’t needed a tutor. He had used it as an excuse to be near Dewey.

But in the 1950s, love between two men was a dangerous thing. In the South, it was not spoken of in polite conversation. It could destroy reputations, careers and entire lives. Dewey knew that better than anyone. His mother was a strict god-fearing Christian, and he had long since accepted that she would never understand who he truly was. He watched his sister go on dates, fall in love openly, while he was forced to bury his heart in secrecy.

Still, with Richard, something was different.

Fate, as it always does, stepped in to make certain that two socially reserved, very frightened and very emotionally and physically frustrated young men would come together under unexpected circumstances. It all started due to Richard’s car breaking down at the most inconvenient of times. He had been planning to take a train home for Christmas, but with no way to reach the station, he was stranded. Dewey, seeing his distress, offered to drive him.

It was a short ride to the station. But one that would change everything.

Somewhere between the campus and the train station, Dewey reached out, his hand resting gently on Richard’s thigh. It was barely a touch. A whisper of something unspoken. But it sent a tremor through Richard so powerful that it stayed with him for the entirety of his holiday.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about him,” Richard later admitted. “That one touch, it was nothing, and yet it was everything.”

For the first time in his life, he was drawn to someone not for their looks, not for their charm, but for something deeper. Something terrifyingly real.

On New Year’s Eve, Richard’s phone rang.

It was Dewey. Keeping his voice careful and polite, he explained he was just a student teacher calling to wish a fellow student happy holidays. But then he hesitated, and Richard knew there was more.

“I got the full-time teaching position,” Dewey finally said. “My application was accepted. I’ll be working at Belhaven next year.”

The reality of this news hit hard. Richard still had a year and a half left at Millsaps. Dewey would be gone, and their delicate, unspoken bond would be severed before it even had the chance to grow.

But Dewey had never been one to act without planning.

The Years That Followed

When Richard returned, Dewey was waiting at the station. As they both reach for his suitcase handle, their hands meet, and the spark ignites once more, stronger than before and burning away any doubts the two young men harbored.

That evening, in the quiet of Dewey’s mother’s house, their hearts can no longer remain silent. Dewey admits his feelings first, knowing full well the risk. If Richard rejects him, he could easily ruin Dewey. All it would take is one visit to the Dean’s office.

But he didn’t.

Instead, Richard realized something he had never expected, he was falling in love.

The taboo relationship unfolded in secrecy, hidden behind their tutoring sessions and whispered conversations. The following year, once Dewey settled into his new position at Belhaven college, he convinced his mother to let Richard move in, explaining Richard’s finances were in dire straits. Just a year before, Dewey’s mother had the addition built on the side of her home. Her daughter, two years older than Dewey had gotten married and moved to Tupelo, opening a furniture store there with her new husband. To entice her son to stay after graduating, she had the addition built. It was a large room. Twin beds sat side by side separated by one night stand. As large as a studio apartment with private bath just off the kitchen, it was large and comfortable enough for two hard working youths to share. For over a decade Richard and Dewey lived beneath that roof, sharing a love neither of them were allowed to acknowledge beyond those walls.

Everyone knew. No one spoke of it.

It was the loudest secret in Jackson.

The Love That Never Died

Time passed. Richard became a teacher in Jackson’s public school system, molding young minds in French and German, while Dewey continued advancing his career at Belhaven. Their lives were intertwined in every way that mattered, always hidden beneath the veil of friendship.

But love, true love, leaves marks that never fade.

Perhaps in another world, they could have walked hand in hand without fear. Maybe they could have shared a home openly, without the need for twin beds and cautious glances.

But they had love. And in the end, it was all that truly mattered to them.

Even after their paths eventually diverged and life carried them in different directions, they remained haunted by what had been. No one else ever quite compared.

For some, love ignites like a raging fire, all-consuming and seemingly unstoppable. It burns with an intensity that seemingly will never fade. But even the fiercest infernos are not immune to time. No matter how powerful the flames, the embers inevitably cool and the fire, it is destined to dim, leaving nothing more than memories among the ashes.

For Dewey and Richard, it was different.

Theirs was a love that never died.