Manitoba

'They are irreplaceable in my mind': How a 30-year friendship has thrived through exchanging audio cassettes

For over three decades, two friends have been sending cassette tapes back and forth from Manitoba to B.C. in order to keep their friendship going.

For Nevil Stephens and Noel McRobbie, cassettes have been the glue in their friendship since 1989

Nevil Stephens and Noel McRobbie hanging out when McRobbie came back to Winnipeg to visit in 1992. After McRobbie moved, the two cemented their friendship by regularly sending each other audio tapes. (Submitted by Nevil Stephens)

Cassette tapes often bring up a lot of memories for people.

For some, they're memories of sliding a tape into their Walkman and visiting Sam The Record Man.

For others, it's dubbing songs off the radio by hitting play and record at the exact moment the DJ stopped talking.

And for a lot of people, it was the sheer terror of hearing your favourite tape being eaten as you scrambled to hit eject.

But for Nevil Stephens and Noel McRobbie, a cassette tape is more than just a memory of the past — it's the glue that's held their friendship together for almost 30 years.

One of the many cassettes the two friends sent back and forth, complete with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Ghostbusters stickers. (Trevor Dineen/CBC)

"Back in 1989, when we were just 13, Noel moved away from Winnipeg to B.C. and I was pretty upset," said Stephens.

"But we started to send each other tapes — not just letters, but tapes — audio cassettes sent in little envelopes wrapped in a letter," he said, holding one of the original tapes in his hand.

"We didn't know how long we'd keep this up for, but lo and behold, junior high ended, high school ended, university came and went. Then we both got married and had children but we were still taping to each other."

The early days

So what exactly is on those tapes?

If you're thinking just music — you'd be wrong.

The tapes started as audio recordings of the two talking about their lives, sharing everything from classes and teachers they didn't like, funny skits and jokes with friends, worries and concerns they had and, of course, the music they were listening to.

One side of the tape would be Stephens's and the other would be McRobbie's. In the early years, they'd even deck them out with drawings and stickers, before they started including a handwritten letter as well. 

"I think at that age, I felt like I may not make another friend," McRobbie said, describing leaving Winnipeg for his new home out west.

"I really considered these tapes to be pretty much the high points in my life for a good year or two. It was one of the only things I had to look forward to."

Stephens and McRobbie hanging out in 2002, at the age of 26. (Submitted by Nevil Stephens)

But it wasn't just the time and care that made the cassettes so unique. It was also the patience each of them had after sending a tape.

Imagine sending someone a text and not getting a response for weeks — now, that's grounds for never talking to them ever again.

But back then, it was different.

"A lot of kids nowadays wouldn't understand that the anticipation is as exciting as getting it," says Stephens.

"In the beginning we would try to send tapes once a week. He'd send a tape to me, it takes five days to get there, I'd listen to it on the weekend, record on the Sunday, I'd send it back, he'd get it by Friday, and we'd do this for months."

The 2000s

The back-and-forth mailing schedule began to slow down a bit once the two reached university.

Instead of once every two or three weeks, a tape would be sent once every couple of months. And when life got even busier, they might go six or seven months between recordings.

But the idea of hitting stop was never discussed — even when technology started to advance. 

The two friends together at one of McRobbie's piano recitals in 2002. (Submitted by Nevil Stephens)

"It became harder to find cassettes in general," says Stephens.

"MP3s and iPods were suddenly becoming so common, [it was] like, OK, this feels archaic now, but it's still kind of quaint. I think our last physical cassette was in 2013 but we had started to do virtual cassettes, or what normal people would call a recording on a computer," he said.

"I mean, at this point, shouldn't we be making phone calls or texting each other? But nope, we don't really do that — which is nice because you can't keep a phone call."

Present day

That may be the best part.

After three decades, the two friends have basically built an ongoing audio capsule of their friendship, filled with all the feelings, emotions and harsh realities that come with growing up and becoming an adult.

"I have to admit that Nevil and I were really going in opposite directions on the social ladder back then, and I felt like we weren't gonna be able to sustain the type of friendship we had," says McRobbie, pondering a different path life could have taken them.

"But the fact that I moved and we kept in touch was a way of preserving the friendship we had without it being affected."

This summer marks the 30th anniversary of the first tape ever sent between the two — and the tapes have taken on a new role in Stephens's life, now that he has a 13-year-old son.

Nevil Stephens holds one of the original audio tapes. 'If my house was on fire, I would have my laptop and photographs in one hand — but in my other hand, I would have these tapes,' he says. (Trevor Dineen/CBC)

"It's funny, because it's almost like my 13-year-old self is helping me parent a 13-year-old in [the] current day. When I think, 'Why are teenagers so crazy all the time? This can't be normal', I'll listen to the tapes and think, 'Oh, that's right, I was crazy too.… That's what that age is."

So how much longer can the tape exchange go on for? No one knows.

We do know that way back in 1989, two friends made a simple deal to stay in touch using nothing more than a blank cassette tape and in doing so, they went on to basically build the ultimate mixtape of life.

"If my house was on fire," said Stephens, "I would have my laptop and photographs in one hand — but in my other hand, I would have these tapes.

"They are irreplaceable in my mind."


To hear this story, tune in to CBC Radio's Now or Never on Saturday, April 6.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Trevor Dineen

Host, Now or Never

Trevor Dineen hosts Now or Never, heard nationally every Saturday and Thursday on CBC Radio One. Trevor is a well known Winnipeg-based radio personality who got his on-air start making traffic both interesting and entertaining on CBC Manitoba. When not behind a microphone, Trevor is a father of two (three if you count his adorable chocolate lab Sophie) and the owner of a pear tree.