Social Media for Good

In the late 1970s my family and I lived in a small town called Ruakaka, north of Auckland. I went to Ruakaka Primary School for a couple of years and it was there I met Michelle. We were in the same class and became very good friends. When my dad got another teaching job, in Papua New Guinea of all places, we had to leave. I remember being very sad about leaving the school and Michelle.

Post Office Box 40

We promised to be penpals, so as soon as I knew my new address, I wrote. I signed off: From your best friend forever, Katie.

It didn’t take too long before I received a letter in reply. She too had signed off: From your best friend forever, Michelle.

I don’t remember any other details of those letters sent or received, but there were many. In my moves from country to country, state to state, city to city and suburb to suburb I lost them. I may not have even kept them – it’s likely I just thought another would come so didn’t see the point of keeping them. Silly me. At some point in our teenage years we stopped writing. I don’t know why.

When I was about 20, I had the urge to find Michelle again. I wrote a letter to her and put it inside a letter to her parents at PO Box 40. I asked if they could forward the letter and my contact details. They did just that and within a couple of months we we talking on the phone – by this stage I was in Tasmania and Michelle was a stone’s throw away in Melbourne. It was great. We joked about being best friends forever and how it would be great to catch up in Melbourne.

Michelle travelled to Israel, London and many other places working in very interesting jobs, while I became a teacher. We wrote again. She was interesting and adventurous. I felt dull. Maybe that is why the writing stopped again. We didn’t meet in Melbourne.

From time to time I tried to find Michelle. A few years ago I wrote to PO Box 40 but there was no reply. I searched her name on the internet, and even tried the old Facebook. There were a couple of Michelles living in New Zealand, but they weren’t her.

Social Media

Last Thursday, I decided to have another go. I thought if I could find someone on social media who knew her, I might be able to pass on my contact details. I started with a local Facebook page – I messaged the very friendly admin. We sent a number of messages that included photos of the beach and memories of a big orange brick house on a hill. The admin was about to have dinner with some long term residents and continued to message me from the dinner. Is her sister called Sandra? Yes, maybe, I wish I could remember… The admin suggested I put a post on another local Facebook page. Let me know how you go, and good luck!

I did that. I asked a question on the page with as many details as I could remember without trying to look creepy.

Within 20 minutes there were several comments and one of them went something like this: Sandra still lives in Ruakaka. She is Michelle’s sister. I have shared your message. Good luck.

Within an hour I received a message that went something like this: Hi Katie. I am Michelle’s sister. We both remember you. Michelle’s phone number is …. Hope you are well.

I was nervous when I called. But it was good. 30 years in 20 minutes across the Tasman. We had lived in Sydney at the same time, when neither of us were at our best, but didn’t know each other was there. Sadly, her parents had died. After traveling she had returned to a town just north of Ruakaka. I liked talking to her. She is happy. She isn’t on Facebook.

I’m glad I found her. I’ve held images of Ruakaka in my mind, but without a person in the picture, I had no real connection to the place. It was like there was a gap in my story. I think the gap will fill, while at the same time we’ll create a new story. I am hopeful of that.