Blowing In The Wind
I got a letter from my high school yesterday. I usually get them once every month or so and it's either a note on what's going on in the lives of my classmates or begging for money. I generally don't read them for a couple of days because I usually end up throwing them out shortly thereafter. So, after we ate breakfast, I saw the letter and decided to open it.
It was an obtituary for one of my classmates. And one of my friends.
His name was Geroge Hung Wilkerson. He was the first interracial man and one of the most attractive men I've known. Dark tan skin, delicate features and the best sence of 80's style in the school. He was an original. He came up with several words that I still use of occasion today: delish (delicious), faboo (fabulous) and woogie (which is a general exclamation of excitement or agreement.) He is also one of the individuals responsible for the nickname I've used since high school. He was probably one of the more influential gentlemen in my teenage life.
And now he's dead. The obituary doesn't say the cause of death only where he finally passed away. He wasn't married (no one preceeded him in death and he's survived only by his family) so I don't know if his death was by accident or illness. I suspect the latter as he was living in Atlanta, GA but died in our hometown of Colorado Springs and accidents don't usually allow for people to relocate that far.
The odd part about all this is that I am so affected by it. Geroge and I were never really close. Sure we had the same circle of friends but that was more from circumstance than choise. We never talked, hung out or did anything that friends do. We just coexisted in the same space a lot and managed not to get on each other's nerves (most of the time.) Yet the report of his death hit me like a fastball on it's way out of the park.
George was always larger than life. Flamboyant and boisterous but never offensive and always polite. A bit chatty but never annoying. And, as I mentioned earlier, a very hansome man. All the women at school found him attractive and he was never at a loss for words or admiting onlookers. He had a wealth of intelligence and was a constant fashion plate. He was just a great guy.
And now he's dead.
And the world moves on just like it did when my great grandfather, my grandfather and my father died. Each of those deaths affected me in different ways but I think is the first that surprised me. I'm not going to say I expected him to live forever but I certainly didn't expect to see reports of his demise quite so soon.
Goodbye George. The world's a little darker place without you.
It was an obtituary for one of my classmates. And one of my friends.
His name was Geroge Hung Wilkerson. He was the first interracial man and one of the most attractive men I've known. Dark tan skin, delicate features and the best sence of 80's style in the school. He was an original. He came up with several words that I still use of occasion today: delish (delicious), faboo (fabulous) and woogie (which is a general exclamation of excitement or agreement.) He is also one of the individuals responsible for the nickname I've used since high school. He was probably one of the more influential gentlemen in my teenage life.
And now he's dead. The obituary doesn't say the cause of death only where he finally passed away. He wasn't married (no one preceeded him in death and he's survived only by his family) so I don't know if his death was by accident or illness. I suspect the latter as he was living in Atlanta, GA but died in our hometown of Colorado Springs and accidents don't usually allow for people to relocate that far.
The odd part about all this is that I am so affected by it. Geroge and I were never really close. Sure we had the same circle of friends but that was more from circumstance than choise. We never talked, hung out or did anything that friends do. We just coexisted in the same space a lot and managed not to get on each other's nerves (most of the time.) Yet the report of his death hit me like a fastball on it's way out of the park.
George was always larger than life. Flamboyant and boisterous but never offensive and always polite. A bit chatty but never annoying. And, as I mentioned earlier, a very hansome man. All the women at school found him attractive and he was never at a loss for words or admiting onlookers. He had a wealth of intelligence and was a constant fashion plate. He was just a great guy.
And now he's dead.
And the world moves on just like it did when my great grandfather, my grandfather and my father died. Each of those deaths affected me in different ways but I think is the first that surprised me. I'm not going to say I expected him to live forever but I certainly didn't expect to see reports of his demise quite so soon.
Goodbye George. The world's a little darker place without you.