CLOSE-UP
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Prominent Detroiters talk about their-
T
he boys were known as Public Enemy
Number One and Public Enemy Number
Two.
They met in 1933 and became best pals
when they both served on the yearbook staff
for Choate School in Wallingford, Conn. Most
of all, they loved making mischief and had a
reputation as the school's troublemakers.
Their names were John F Kennedy and Kirk
LeMoyne "Lem" Billings.
"Once, upon returning to Choate from sum-
mer vacation, Lem was helping Jack store his
steamer trunk in the dormitory basement,"
writes David Michaelis in The Best of Friends.
"The dorm master, J.J. Maher, was angered
by the commotion during the quiet study hour.
Harshly reprimanding them, Mr. Maher sent
Lem and Jack back to their room with the
decisive, but unspecific instructions that the
proper time for trunk storage was 'in the
morning.
"Inspired to obey, Jack and Lem were up
at 5 a.m., hauling the trunk as quietly as it is
possible, at that hour, to drag a heavy steamer
trunk down three flights of stairs.
"Lem was delighted when the master's door
opened, and a groggy, bathrobe-cld figure
emerged to hear Jack's explanation: 'But Mr.
Maher, you told us to take it down in the morn-
ing.'
John Kennedy had Lem. Gangster Bugsy
Siegel had .Meyer Lansky, Composer Dmitri
Shostakovich had writer Mikhail Zoschenko.
Thelma had Louise, Harry Truman had Eddie
Jacobson. Frank Sinatra had Dean Martin (and
Sammy Davis Jr. and Joey Bishop). Butch
Cassidy had the Sundance Kid.
A friend, according to Deuteronomy, is "one
who is like your very self."
The Torah extols the friendship of King David
and Jonathan. When Jonathan dies, David
laments, "Your love to me was wonderful,
passing the love of women."
Below, Detroiters speak about their best
pals, the men and women who are 'like their
very selves." (One stipulation: those profiled
were asked not to do the inevitable and name
spouses or parents as their best buddy.)
Sander Levin
The first thing Sander
Levin's parents did when
they moved into their new
home on Boston Boulevard
was to knock down a wall.
The wall separated two
small bedrooms, and the
Levins' two sons, Sander and
Carl, did not want to be
apart even when they went
to sleep. So the two bed-
rooms were made into one,
where Sander and Carl lived
until they went to college.
Today, Sander and Carl
continue to be the best of
friends, sharing not only an
interest in politics (Sander is
congressman for the 17th
District; Carl is a U.S. sena-
tor) but a fondness for apple
picking and sports.
As boys, the two often
could be found in the back
yard, playing a kind of
makeshift baseball "with a
broom and a tennis ball, and
a bedspring for the
backstop," Sander Levin
recalls.
They played basketball,
too. "We had a backboard at
our house," Rep. Levin says.
"It became the center for all
our friends."
Carl and Sander even
spent their summers
together: sometimes at
Camp Nehilu in Ortonville,
then at Camp Tamakwa,
and finally at Camp Kob-
bossee in Maine.
Every night, the family sat
together for dinner. "It was
an inherent part of our
lives," Rep. Levin says.
"And we always waited for
my father to come home —
except on Saturday night.
That's when my mother took
us to where my father work-
ed, and we ate at Sander's. I
always had a hot fudge sun-
dae. We didn't know about
cholesterol in those days."
Carl and Sander Levin
Carl and Sander attended
separate colleges, though
they roomed together for one
year while both were in law
school at Harvard. Later,
each established a law prac-
tice in Michigan.
Today, the two men make
it a point to meet weekly on
the squash court.
"We fight like tigers out
there," Rep. Levin says.
"We've played about 7,000
games, and I think we've
each won 3,500."
They also enjoy weekend
visits to the Levin family
apple orchard, about 40
miles outside Detroit.
"Of course we talk poli-
tics," Rep. Levin says. "But
we do a lot of other things,
too. There's the squash, and
we plant trees, and
sometimes we cut paths
through the woods."
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