I first met Rene’ in the early 60’s. I had transferred to the University of Massachusetts and Rene’ had just transferred in from Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute (RPI).

RPI educates the leaders of tomorrow for technologically based careers and is one of the best in the world. When I found out that Rene’ had transferred into the English Department I wondered why the switch. It became more intriguing after I discovered the guy had a 4.0 GPA while attending RPI.

What I discovered was Rene’ would be the smartest person I would ever met. When I asked him why he had transferred from RPI to the U of Mass he explained it this way.

“when you deal with a problem in math there is only one solution, but take a half a dozen or so words and the possibilities are endless!”
Rene’ had grown up in Fitchburg Massachusetts. Fitchburg is a blue-collar town located in the middle of the state.
The first thing you noticed about Rene’ was his eyes. They were much smaller in proportional to his face and he tended to squint making them that much smaller. A quick look at Rene’ and you would be intimidated by his appearance. Rene’ was a solidly built man, nearly six feet tall and over 200 pounds.

Over the next three years I discovered that Rene’ was in truth a big teddy bear and his looks covered the fact he was a gentle soul with a broad ability to mingle with every section of society. He could mix and talk with college professors one day and then mix with us at a pub the next day.

For nearly three years we both lived in the same college dorm.

Rene’, I, and some other friends would get together on the weekends to drink beer and play cards. We usually bought a keg of beer and we all had two quart pitchers and played until the beer was gone, every once in a while we did something stupid like drive to Albany, New York for a sub sandwich. This one night there were four of us left and it was three in the morning. Rene’ did not want to go home so we thought up a plan to get him out by saying we would go to New York City.

All four of us headed for a friends VW bug as we approached the car, a good friend of mine, Carl, and I realized that one of us had to sit in the back with Rene’. To settle this we decided to flip a coin. I won, then, but Carl asked to make it best of three, being drunk, I agreed and won again. I was then asked to make it best of five, then seven, then, nine and for five straight flips the coin went my way. Finally, Carl gave up and climbed into the back with Rene’. Things went well for a few miles until Rene’ decided to open the back window which did not open and to begin yodeling. At the same time he thought that George, the driver, was his best friend and he should join him in the back seat. I said Rene’ was a big man and as he put his arm around George’s chest I could see George’s fingers slowly leaving the steering wheel. Here we are driving down the highway, at three in the morning, with George slowly being pulled into the back seat, me leaning over from the front passenger seat trying to steer and our friend in the back seat turning pale. For some reason Rene’ let go.

George and I quickly thought of a plan to get Rene’ out of the car. We both indicated we needed a “Pee” break. George pulled the car off the road near a creek and we got out. As Carl was getting out I pushed him back in and as soon as Rene’ got out of George’s side, George jumped back in and we roared out of the area watching Rene’ making a big O.

We drove back to the dorms and fell asleep. About six that morning I got a knock on the door with people asking where was Rene’. I took them to where we had left him and though we could see the O in the snow, Rene’ was nowhere to be found, even after we had checked a number of police stations. It was not until four that afternoon, when we received a call from Rene’ at the Connecticut/Massachusetts border asking for a ride, that we finally figured out what had happen to him.

It seems after we had left him Rene’ was determined to meet up with us in New York, so he had hitched a ride. Somewhere near the New York/Connecticut border Rene’ had sobered up and realized that New York was a BIG city and he had no idea where to go to meet up with us. He got out of the car, turned around, and began to hitch a ride back. Hitching is not legal in Connecticut so Rene’ was picked up by the police. I never did find out how Rene’ talked the police to drive him to the border and let him make the call. Rene’ did have a knack of being at home in any setting and I figured he must of convinced the officers that the drive would save a lot of paperwork! To say the least we walked around on eggshells for the next couple of weeks and Carl did not come visiting like he use to and for good reason….

A few weeks later Carl and I met at the foot of the stairs to my dorm and as we walked up the steps there was Rene’, at the top, with a shotgun! Now here is six foot Rene’ looking down at Carl who pushed five foot six. Talk about a Steven King moment!

What Carl and I did not know was that Rene’ had broken a bone in his leg and was using the shotgun as a crutch and his memory of the New York drive was foggy. Only later did he remember Carl was in the back seat and his memory was, in fact, very favorable towards Carl. But, that night there was terror in Carl’s eyes as he focused on Rene’s shotgun! Rene’ was in fact that big teddy bear, I mentioned, but that is not what went through our minds that night.

Later we would all laugh at the situation, but that night was a night where I had some horrible visions and so did Carl. Rene’, however, was just concerned about getting around on a foot that was hurting like hell.

My last real solid memory of Rene’ during this time was when he showed me a story he had written about a white deer. It was a beautifully written story and I think he got it published in an outdoor magazine. I think Rene’ liked me and by showing me this story I now believe it was his way of letting me share his world.

After that I had a number of interesting conversations with Rene’ during the rest of my time at Massachusetts.

I left Massachusetts and moved to Colorado to finish my college degree and then one day in the middle of February of 1966 there was a knock at my door. To my surprise when I opened the door there was Rene’.

Rene’ had started his Masters in English at the University of Michigan. Rene’ had convinced the University to give him a Winnebago and an expense account to travel the country seeking out the slang of working Americans.

He had just completed talking to the miners of Colorado and was about to head to Texas to interview oilrig workers.

He explained his mission was to help in the development of a dictionary of American slang. He played some of the tapes of the miners and I heard him singing along with them as they shared a drink or three. We talked and drank until the wee hours and when I awoke the next morning Rene’ was gone.

It has been forty-five years and I never saw him again, but the University of Michigan did publish a Dictionary of American Slang and Rene’s name was credited in helping in the development of the dictionary.

What happen to Rene’ after that I have no idea. Rene’ was a genius with a bit of Forest Gump in him. For a few years I hoped that Steven King was Rene’s pen name, but even though they have similar features Rene’ whereabouts remains a mystery.

I hope he has had a good life, written tons of stories and has been a success. But, somehow I doubt it Rene’ himself, didn’t think he would make it to 30. He sometimes referred himself to a meteor, he would burn brightly and then burn out all in a short period of time.

One of the mysteries in my life is where is Rene’?