First thing, Wednesday morning, Mea got a phone call from her friend, R. R had called to tell her that two of their friends, who were brothers, had been in a wreck. The younger brother, Jacob, was dead, and the older one was in the hospital. As the day went on, it became apparent that the older brother, Keith, wasn't going to make it, either. He passed away Wednesday afternoon.
Mea has not really lost anyone to death, other than her grandmother. But her death was hardly a surprise. Mamaw had brain cancer, so we all knew that it was coming. At the end, she couldn't even talk, which hurt her and hurt us to watch.
The death of these two young men, though, was unexpected. They were young. They never got into any trouble. They didn't drink or even dance. They were what we all hope are children turn out to be. Their lives ended so unexpectedly and so quickly-- they were just out running around on the back roads. Keith was driving with one of his college friends in the front, while Jacob and another friend were riding in the back. (I cannot tell you how many times I've ridden in the back of a pickup.) Keith lost control of the pickup and it rolled several times.
And they died. On Tuesday they were here and yesterday they were gone.
Two of my colleagues had Keith in their comp classes this year. By their accounts, he was a smart, dedicated, hard-working kid. He was acting in a film that one of my friends is making for her thesis.
He leaves a hole in our college, our town, his church, and in the lives of his friends.
Jacob, Mea says, is a "great big puppy dog." A "Labrador retriever" she says. Always upbeat, kind, sweet. He was in band and his locker was near Mea's.
The funeral is Monday-- after school. School on Monday, though, will feel hollow.
I doubt Tuesday will be much better.
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