2005-09-26 - 12:21 a.m.
Let me tell you a story. It began about 25 years ago.
When we first moved to Arizona, I had absolutley no friends. We were new in the area and my father had just finished his training/ apprentiship for the boilermakers.
The first real friend I made was a son of one of my dads coworkers. His name was Jonas. Now we lived 25 miles apart, and to me today that is nothing, I can drive that distance in about 20 minutes, and in fact I have had friends who lived much further away than that, but to a 7 year old, 25 miles is a world a way.
We would get together on the weekends when our parents would get together. My weeks were just a set up until the weekend when I could see my best friend. We lived at each others houses on the weekends, going on friday after class, and staying until sunday night. His mom was mine, and my mom was his. We called each other brother, and I was honored to be another of that family, and he was tickled to be a Jones. We trick or treated together (even getting mugged for candy), we rode bikes together, played football together, and played against each other on pop warner. He had the most intense blue eyes I have ever seen (until I met my children), and white blonde hair. I was the chubby kid, he was the skinny gangly one.
We went to different high schools, and so as people do in high school we drifted apart some, but 6 years of being best friends is hard to forget.
We had patched up our friendship in my senior year (his junior because he flunked a year, part of our disagreements) and I was supposed to go to a concert with him. Guns and roses, metallica, and one other big band (can't remember the name). I had a job, and I had to work. I remember him coming by my work to see if he could get me to quit and come with them. I was so close. I ached to just say "f* it" and go, but I was also trying to support myself, and I can't ever quit anything. That feels wrong. So I stayed.
That previous week it had been raining very heavily, and the location of the concert was perfect. It was at a international race way, meaning it could hold up to 100,000 people for the concert. The only problem is there are only 2 ways in, and one of them was flooded. Now this isn't a big deal in the daylight because you can see, and step your way across the river. This is what Jonas and his other friends did.
It is very different after a 4 hour long concert, in the dark with people. The girl that jonas was there with was swept into the river, and he dove in after her. He pushed her out of the river, and never came out himself.
I worked a 16 hour shift that day, and slept in the next because I was feeling sorry for myself. I had not seen the news, and did not find out until the second day of searching for his body. I went with my mom to my other mom's home in shock, and I was there when they discovered the body.
I was so racked with guilt that I did not go with, I kept thinking I could have saved him. It wasn't until his older brother gave me a bear hug and told me he was glad I didn't go because they would have fished out 2 bodies from the river that day, that I realized I would have gone in with him, after him, because I would not have let him die alone.
I bring this up today because my wife gave me a wonderful present for my birthday today. A small, skinny, white haired kitten, and she named him Jonas. In honor of my friend who I will always love, and never forget. I have tried to live my life for both of us, and at times I think I can hear his laugh, or see his cocky grin, but for now I can see his namesake, even if it is a cat. who knows, it might even be him.
Will
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