"He Was Only 16" - Submission #38

I don't recall exactly why it happened. I don't remember if it was a singular event... a flashpoint... or if it developed over time. All I know is that the word on the street was that my former buddy, Rod was after me and was patiently awaiting the opportunity to fight me... to teach me a lesson of some sort. And he became very vocal about it. Everyone knew. He made sure of that.

I have never been one who has sought the spotlight. I've never enjoyed being the center of attention. I tried to avoid being that guy. It was particularly dreadful when my name was on the lips of many for all the wrong reasons. This was one of those times.

As horrible as this time was for me... how much worse would it have been if we had the social media that we have today? I can only imagine. It would have been brutal.

Rod and I were really good friends at one point. We hung out together all the time the summer

after 8th grade. We used to hike along some old, abandoned railroad tracks north of town, looking for the ideal spot to build a fort. We even drew up plans with sizes and dimensions. We searched for wood and other building materials and when we found some, we'd haul it out to our build site. This was going to be the coolest hangout spot ever.

We never built the fort. But that was okay. It was the fantasy and the planning that was fun and helped us forge that bond of friendship that summer.

In less than two years’ time, that friendship had not only eroded into nothing but had morphed into hostility. Violent hostility.

It was the tail end of my sophomore year of high school. 1975. The weather had warmed up after months of frigid temperatures, snow and a collective case of cabin fever for the teens of Madrid, Iowa. Outdoor activities had picked up for everyone... except me, it seemed. I was hiding out. Other than attending school, I was in total seclusion.

I went to school. I came home from school. And the routes I took were as stealth as I could make them. Avoid the busier streets, cut through the back yards as much as possible and

hide behind bushes until a street looked clear before crossing it.

Rod was a bit crazy, at least that was my perception and this is what concerned me. He didn't seem to have much discernment and discretion. I wasn't sure what he might be capable of. In retrospect... I'm sure I blew this out of proportion but nevertheless... this caused me great anxiety. I would fall asleep each night and wake up each morning... with him on my mind. It consumed me. It put me in a perpetual state of anxiety.

There was never any indication that my "friends" had my back. They were silent. I was an island. "Lonely" doesn't quite capture it. It was far, far beyond that.

Rod drove a royal blue, late model Nova. Nice set of wheels for a kid. I made it my number one priority to scan the landscape for that vehicle... no matter where I was and what I was doing. And it seems I saw it often. It was as if he was stalking me... which... he probably was.

Living on the main drag of town, there were times when I would walk out my front door... and there was that blue Nova... slowly driving by with the driver staring a hole through me. Sometimes he would turn onto the alley that ran behind my house and he would cruise by as though he were casing the joint.

To be clear, Rod was not the reason for all of my mental and emotional turmoil. He just helped create one more situation... among many... that made life miserable for me during that period of time. If every other aspect of my life would have been good… then I probably could have handled this squabble with Rod. But my existence was a dark cloud. My life sucked. I hated it. I REALLY hated it!

So, I'm just going to say this... I have never shared this with anyone for obvious reasons… I thought that ending my life might just be the best option available for me. Why not? Nobody would really care, right? Some might even be happy about it. That was my mindset and rationale.

 

I made a mental list of ways that I could carry it out... a gun to the head, a leap from the viaduct onto the railroad tracks, a bottle of pills. Strangely, I felt a sense of calm and peace as I contemplated these options. Anything that offered an escape from the misery gave me momentary solace.

I considered leaving these thoughts out of my writings. It's dark. It's highly personal. It's sensitive. It's embarrassing. But... it's the truth. It happened. If I leave it out, I'm not showing the transparency needed to paint an accurate picture of this period of time in my life. I was a mess.

Suicide is not the answer. It is never the answer. As I look back across the decades that have passed since this time in my life, the amazing wife, the tremendous children, the beautiful grandchildren that God has blessed me with... the precious friends, the momentous events, the multitude of undeserved blessings that God has bestowed upon me... I can tell you with the utmost confidence and conviction... to be patient... persevere... work through those dark seasons of your life... because God has a plan. Life will get better. You will be stronger. Do not rob your influence from the individuals who need you now and in the future.

Those are my thoughts now but they were not my thoughts then. My decision was made. I was really going to do it.

1959 – 1975

He had his whole life ahead of him.

He was only 16.