This is kind of a long story, but it explains why I feel the way I do......
I once knew a young man...grew up with him, knew him all his life, and most of mine.
He was smart, and I don't mean just average, this kid had an IQ over 150....he was talented. Nature had gifted him with musical ability. He learned to play trumpet in 6th grade, and taught himself guitar in 8th grade....He also played piano.
He was the best friend anyone could ask for. He was loyal to his family and friends. If a friend needed his help, they didn't even have to ask, this young man was there, offering to do what ever he can. I often saw him befriend some poor soul who lived on the street...giving them the shirt off his back...sometimes, literally.
This kid had a heart of gold.
He and I shared a kindred spirit....we laughed and cried together, shared secrets and dreams that no one else knew, we sang, danced, and enjoyed life. When he was 16, his Mom bought him a car, and I taught him to drive a stick.
To say we were close doesn't even begin to describe our relationship.
When he was 15, someone introduced him to drugs. He liked them.
At first, it didn't seem a big deal...he seemed to be able to control it....but by the time he was 20, he had a severe problem. Cocaine led to crack, which led to him losing jobs...which led to him eventually stealing from friends and family.
Then, he was arrested for writing bad checks at a jewelry store. He was buying gold, and pawning it for cash to get drugs.
He was ordered into rehab by the court....when he came home, he was back to his old happy go lucky self.....for a while.
His old drug buddies were persistent, and eventually, he was caught stealing checks from a neighbor's house, and writing them to himself....only enough for his fix....he was sick, not stupid...and in his state of mind, he didn't realize he would get caught....or maybe he did.
He called me one afternoon, and asked me to drive him to turn himself in. He had used a needle, and he loved it....he was afraid.
I drove him to the sheriff's office, and held his hand as he told them what he had done, and begged for mercy and help.
He was given a court date, scheduled for another rehab, and released with a promise to appear in court. When I took him home that evening, he crawled up in his Mother's lap, and they both cried....for hours. My heart broke knowing what the road ahead looked like.
The young man knew that he would have to spend some time in jail, but was looking forward to being clean....finally clean.
He got a job with a local dish tv company, and had made plans to pay back the money he had stolen. He called the neighbors and apologized to them....
instead of cursing him or hanging up on him, they came over and hugged him and told him to get well.
They still saw the beautiful person that the young man had always been.
On July 8, 1998, the young man was killed in a single car accident, while driving home from the home of his boss. He had gone home with the boss after work.....to see his dog.
It was an unfamiliar road, and the car went over a 50 foot cliff, and he suffered a fatal head injury.
I was with the family when the radio station announced his obituary....and I heard the snide comment the announcer made following the announcement.
His exact words were "He was to appear in court the following week to answer felony charges".....
I heard the whispered comments of condemnation made by people who had never known this young man.... they did not know the beauty, kindness, generosity, and love for others that he had.
They called him stupid....called him an idiot. You cannot even imagine the pain these comments caused his Mother and sister.
They did dot know this young man at all....they had no right to speak of him in this way....
I decided that day that my words would never hurt anyone the way that my Mother and I were hurt on that day. My brother was dead....he could no longer be hurt by words or stupid people....but if you could have seen my Mother after that radio announcement....the pain....it was horrible.
Yeah, that young man was my brother. He died four months short of his 26th birthday. His name was Mark. He wasn't famous, but he was loved.
There is not a day that has passed that I do not miss him....or wish I could talk to him just one more time....or hear that wonderful infectious laugh.
In spite of all his troubles, we loved him.
If it matters to anyone....his toxicology report was clean.....
