"This isn't family," he replied. "Although," he went on, "come to think of it", it might just as well have been family. Old Ed was my oldest friend. In fact, we used to call each other 'Old Friend' — when we'd meet, that is. I'm not much of a hand at writing."

"I don't think any of us keep up our correspondence too well," I said. "I know I don't. But I take it he's someone you've known quite a while?"

"All my life, practically. We were kids together, so we go way back."

"Went to school together?" 

"All the way through high school. We were in the same class, in fact, through both grade and high school." 

"There are not too many people who've had such a long friendship," I said.

"Actually," the driver went on, "I hadn't seen him more than once or twice a year over the past 25 or 30 years because I moved away from the old neighborhood and you kind of lose touch even though you never forget. He was a great guy." 

"You said 'was'. Does that mean —?"

He nodded. "Died a couple of weeks ago." 

"I'm sorry," I said. "It's no fun to lose any friend — and losing a real old one is even tougher."