John, Passing
My oldest nephew passed away about a month ago. Both my children took the loss pretty hard. Both are younger than he was and both are overweight as he was. Both have expressed their thoughts, either aloud or tacitly, that they felt the first faint twinges of their own mortality as a result of his passing. And that got me to thinking that I had written a blurb a few months previously about that subject, or, at least referenced it in my blurb. So here, unedited, is what I wrote back on 30 April 2007, about another person who had passed away. It is titled, simply, "JOHN."
A while back, my daughter left a message on my answering machine that bemoaned the fact that one of her classmates from high school had passed away. And while not the first one who had done so, this one apparently hit her fairly hard. Probably this one, coming as it does shortly before her fortieth birthday, has made her feel the first twinge of her own mortality, and is quite uncomfortable. I can sympathize with her, because in the adjoining column of the obituaries, one of my classmates has also passed away. So where does that leave me?
I felt that first twinge many years ago, when I became one of the 'old ones' in the family, as both my parents had passed away, the last one when I was only forty-one. It is not the most comforting feeling to know that you are now considered old by others' standards when you still feel the surges of youth and know that, barring unforeseen accidents, you still have a lot of years to go before that twinge becomes a chill reality.
I was always a loner. Mostly out of shyness, I think, but for whatever reason, I have never had too many close friends. Lots of acquaintances and lots of people I knew a little about, and some I wish I had gotten to know better, and some I have occasionally wished I could forget. But shyness in my youth kept me from getting too close to anyone because I could never get up the nerve to speak up and let them know my true feelings. Later in life, after I had pretty well conquered the shyness, I found there were some I wished to know more about but the moments were past and opportunities did not present themselves again.
The fellow I referred to above was a year behind me in school. He was the son of my high school principal, and was a mirror image of his father. His personality somewhat mirrored his father also, rotund, intelligent and jovial, always with a smile for the other fellow, always made you feel at ease around him. He was active in clubs and other activities both in and out of school. I had a few classes with him in high school. He had a twin brother who was very unlike him, also very intelligent, somewhat thin, and more intent on succeeding than my friend was, yet still a very likable sort.
John and I had a lot of mutual acquaintances and it was always interesting to hear his take on some of them. Sometimes his views were similar to mine, but at other times, the difference was startling. Some kids I considered first class goofballs he felt were simply using that craziness as a crutch to hide their fears. But generally we agreed on who the good and bad were and who would succeed and who would struggle all their lives with their own personal beasts.
He and I had similar outlooks on most affairs of the day, we had similar opinions on which teachers were worthwhile and which to avoid, we shared a common interest in mathematics and science (him probably as a result of his parentage, me because I admired his father so much-- his father had spoken with me at length, on the occasion of a field trip to the local college science museum, of the benefits and pitfalls of math and science.) I noted in his obituary that he and I also shared the common occupation in life, we were both accountants.
After leaving high school, I went to work the following day at a camp where I was either on duty or on-call twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week from the time school was out in the summer to the start of school in fall. I was the maintenance person and began the job at the rate of $25 per week. Before the summer was over, I had decided to attend college and the director raised my pay to $40 per week, retroactive to the start of the season.
I stayed in that job for four years and, other than for meals, paid my complete way through college by supplementing this summer job with various ones during the winters, no grants and no loans.
Upon graduation from college, I took a job out of the area and, other than weekends and vacations, did not live in this area for almost twenty years. I was back for about two years and then was away for another six or seven years. I became a permanent resident of the tri-state area in late 1988. During all the time I was gone, I had no contact with John. I knew his dad had died and his brother had moved to Virginia, but I knew nothing else. (I only knew this because a fellow I worked with had contact with the family.)
One day I opened the newspaper to the Op-Ed section and, lo and behold, there is a letter to the editor from John. Now he and I never agreed too much on the historical side of things. Our political leanings were always verboten, but we had discussed the history of the United States a little. He was a rebel and I was a damnyankee as far as the Civil War was concerned. I was concerned with unity and he with states rights. And there he was, writing about the "War of Northern Aggression." And he was some bigwig in the Sons of the Confederacy. Well, Johnny, I hardly knew you!
He wrote lucidly and passionately about his topic. I was really impressed. I didn't agree, of course, but I was impressed. Impressed that he would take such a stand publicly and defend his beliefs so well. And I noted with regularity, that he continued to hold his belief and express it willingly and often until the final days of his life.
John is one of those I wish I had kept contact with. He was the type of individual that makes America strong and viable as a nation. This country will be worse for his passing. And, while I mourn his passing, I know the world is better off for having John around for his three-score an ten (less six.)
A while back, my daughter left a message on my answering machine that bemoaned the fact that one of her classmates from high school had passed away. And while not the first one who had done so, this one apparently hit her fairly hard. Probably this one, coming as it does shortly before her fortieth birthday, has made her feel the first twinge of her own mortality, and is quite uncomfortable. I can sympathize with her, because in the adjoining column of the obituaries, one of my classmates has also passed away. So where does that leave me?
I felt that first twinge many years ago, when I became one of the 'old ones' in the family, as both my parents had passed away, the last one when I was only forty-one. It is not the most comforting feeling to know that you are now considered old by others' standards when you still feel the surges of youth and know that, barring unforeseen accidents, you still have a lot of years to go before that twinge becomes a chill reality.
I was always a loner. Mostly out of shyness, I think, but for whatever reason, I have never had too many close friends. Lots of acquaintances and lots of people I knew a little about, and some I wish I had gotten to know better, and some I have occasionally wished I could forget. But shyness in my youth kept me from getting too close to anyone because I could never get up the nerve to speak up and let them know my true feelings. Later in life, after I had pretty well conquered the shyness, I found there were some I wished to know more about but the moments were past and opportunities did not present themselves again.
The fellow I referred to above was a year behind me in school. He was the son of my high school principal, and was a mirror image of his father. His personality somewhat mirrored his father also, rotund, intelligent and jovial, always with a smile for the other fellow, always made you feel at ease around him. He was active in clubs and other activities both in and out of school. I had a few classes with him in high school. He had a twin brother who was very unlike him, also very intelligent, somewhat thin, and more intent on succeeding than my friend was, yet still a very likable sort.
John and I had a lot of mutual acquaintances and it was always interesting to hear his take on some of them. Sometimes his views were similar to mine, but at other times, the difference was startling. Some kids I considered first class goofballs he felt were simply using that craziness as a crutch to hide their fears. But generally we agreed on who the good and bad were and who would succeed and who would struggle all their lives with their own personal beasts.
He and I had similar outlooks on most affairs of the day, we had similar opinions on which teachers were worthwhile and which to avoid, we shared a common interest in mathematics and science (him probably as a result of his parentage, me because I admired his father so much-- his father had spoken with me at length, on the occasion of a field trip to the local college science museum, of the benefits and pitfalls of math and science.) I noted in his obituary that he and I also shared the common occupation in life, we were both accountants.
After leaving high school, I went to work the following day at a camp where I was either on duty or on-call twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week from the time school was out in the summer to the start of school in fall. I was the maintenance person and began the job at the rate of $25 per week. Before the summer was over, I had decided to attend college and the director raised my pay to $40 per week, retroactive to the start of the season.
I stayed in that job for four years and, other than for meals, paid my complete way through college by supplementing this summer job with various ones during the winters, no grants and no loans.
Upon graduation from college, I took a job out of the area and, other than weekends and vacations, did not live in this area for almost twenty years. I was back for about two years and then was away for another six or seven years. I became a permanent resident of the tri-state area in late 1988. During all the time I was gone, I had no contact with John. I knew his dad had died and his brother had moved to Virginia, but I knew nothing else. (I only knew this because a fellow I worked with had contact with the family.)
One day I opened the newspaper to the Op-Ed section and, lo and behold, there is a letter to the editor from John. Now he and I never agreed too much on the historical side of things. Our political leanings were always verboten, but we had discussed the history of the United States a little. He was a rebel and I was a damnyankee as far as the Civil War was concerned. I was concerned with unity and he with states rights. And there he was, writing about the "War of Northern Aggression." And he was some bigwig in the Sons of the Confederacy. Well, Johnny, I hardly knew you!
He wrote lucidly and passionately about his topic. I was really impressed. I didn't agree, of course, but I was impressed. Impressed that he would take such a stand publicly and defend his beliefs so well. And I noted with regularity, that he continued to hold his belief and express it willingly and often until the final days of his life.
John is one of those I wish I had kept contact with. He was the type of individual that makes America strong and viable as a nation. This country will be worse for his passing. And, while I mourn his passing, I know the world is better off for having John around for his three-score an ten (less six.)
posted by tanstaafl | 6:08 AM
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