The May issue of Esquire has a fantastic article about Joe Montgomery, a friend of mine from grade school who died in Iraq last year. Joey (how I'll always think of him) died by stepping on a land mine at night. This article tracks the whole process of how a soldier is brought back from overseas to be buried at home.
Before I heard that Joey died, I hadn't thought about him in years. We'd been in school together for many of the twelve years of our time in the Scott County School District 2, but we weren't close friends. The grade school Joey is what I remember best. My favorite memory of him was a time in second grade. The teacher stepped out of the room leaving us with instructions, though I have no idea what we should have been doing. Joey was cutting up, as he usually did when the teacher wasn't around. He kept getting up to go to the pencil sharpener. Over and over again. His pencil was apparently refusing to reach the desired level of sharpness to complete whatever mimeographed (yes, I am that old) worksheet we had to do. After several times with his pencil about half its original length, Joey gave up and plunked his head down--right on top of his pencil tip. It might not have been sharp enough for his paper, but it was definitely sharp enough to make a mark on his forehead, one that stayed there for a long time--I think I still saw it in high school. A graphite dot in the middle of field of orange freckles.
It's funny how so many people mark indelible marks on us without us knowing. We are so busy living our lives, trying to make it whatever our next thing is--college, a better job, more money or just the next day--that we don't realize how people can affect us. I'm not talking about the main people in our lives, though they're important too, but the people we interact with, but never know their name. Say for example the bank teller who is alway smiling or the guy at the gym that you've seen so often but only know as "Abnormally Giant Pec Man". Some of these people are leaving impressions on you and may also being taking impressions of you at the same time.
I wonder if there are people whom I don't know or haven't spoken to in years who carry a happy little memory about me. Perhaps some long time from now, they will hear of my passing and the memory of me will bubble up and make them smile a little. It's a small thing.
Goodbye Joey. You will be missed more than you knew.
Before I heard that Joey died, I hadn't thought about him in years. We'd been in school together for many of the twelve years of our time in the Scott County School District 2, but we weren't close friends. The grade school Joey is what I remember best. My favorite memory of him was a time in second grade. The teacher stepped out of the room leaving us with instructions, though I have no idea what we should have been doing. Joey was cutting up, as he usually did when the teacher wasn't around. He kept getting up to go to the pencil sharpener. Over and over again. His pencil was apparently refusing to reach the desired level of sharpness to complete whatever mimeographed (yes, I am that old) worksheet we had to do. After several times with his pencil about half its original length, Joey gave up and plunked his head down--right on top of his pencil tip. It might not have been sharp enough for his paper, but it was definitely sharp enough to make a mark on his forehead, one that stayed there for a long time--I think I still saw it in high school. A graphite dot in the middle of field of orange freckles.
It's funny how so many people mark indelible marks on us without us knowing. We are so busy living our lives, trying to make it whatever our next thing is--college, a better job, more money or just the next day--that we don't realize how people can affect us. I'm not talking about the main people in our lives, though they're important too, but the people we interact with, but never know their name. Say for example the bank teller who is alway smiling or the guy at the gym that you've seen so often but only know as "Abnormally Giant Pec Man". Some of these people are leaving impressions on you and may also being taking impressions of you at the same time.
I wonder if there are people whom I don't know or haven't spoken to in years who carry a happy little memory about me. Perhaps some long time from now, they will hear of my passing and the memory of me will bubble up and make them smile a little. It's a small thing.
Goodbye Joey. You will be missed more than you knew.
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