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06 December 2009 @ 09:42 pm
PLEASEDONT READ THIS. YOU WILL BE KISSED ON THE NEAREST POSSIBLE FRIDAY BYTHE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE.TOMMOROW WILL BE THE BEST DAY OF YOUR LIFE. NOWYOU'VE STARTED READING THIS. DON'T STOP. THIS IS SO FREAKY. 1. say yourname ten times. 2. say your mom's name five times. 3. say your crushesname three times. .........4. p...as.........t..................ethis.................. to four other groups. If you do this, your crushwill kiss you on the nearest Friday. But if you read this and do notpaste this, then you will have very bad luck. SEND THIS TO 5 GROUPS IN143 MINUTES. WHEN YOU'RE DONE PRESS F6 AND YOUR CRUSH'S NAME WILLAPPEAR IN BIG LETTERS ON THE SCREEN. THIS IS SO FREAKY BECAUSE ITACTUALLY WORKS
 
 
08 December 2008 @ 12:53 am
Natalie Nicole Sitton
1988-2005
Died in a car accident just 2 weeks after turning 17.
 
 
09 May 2007 @ 11:06 pm
I really miss you Boots.
You were a great friend.
I wear the tshirt I made for your memorial alot.
I got a tall tee just for you.

 
 
28 January 2007 @ 03:35 am
Hey Christine
I wish you where here seems like it has been forever. I just try to go on I know that is what you would want me to do, I just wish there was a way to stop this pain it is an I don’t want to go on any more pain. My heart just aches everyday. What hurts the most is the not knowing, my life every aspect of it would be or could be so different. I know I have 2 great kids, I know our kids would have been just as beautiful just as loving but they would not be the to I have now. I was listening to some music Toby Keith has a song “When we where in love” if I could invent a time machine maybe we could both be 17 again. There is not a day that goes by I don’t hurt so bad to just be able to go back, some people come into your life for just a blink of an eye and leave you the rest of your life to figure out why. I know I will never will I know it was the greatest blink of an eye I have ever had, my friend Anna said she thinks your still watching over me, I don’t know there are a lot of things I don’t know. I know that some strange things have been going on that I can’t really explain. It is nice just to think you are there with me more then just in my memory. She said that is the way it should be. I know sometimes if I turn my head I catch a glimpse of someone looking over my shoulder it feels so warm with you their god knows that there are so many I have left dead a warm smile is a welcome change from what I normally see. I know one day you will slow down just for a minuet and I will get to see your face again and maybe an embrace. Well love its that time I must go I try so hard to have my dreams be just of you and I. Chris I want you to know I treasure every memory I have of you. I love you and miss you but you know that but I still like to tell you once in a wile. See you tomorrow yours forever.

I have been having a blog at http://www.hoverspot.com/calvin2 please feel free to come by and leave any comments
it just turned into more than a one page thing
 
 
Current Location: home
Current Mood: very sad
Current Music: Kenny Chesney
 
 
06 January 2007 @ 11:55 pm

Wow I finally got up enough nerve to check this place out did some reading before I sat to write seems like most here are young that wont include me I am a battle hardened Police Officer / Fire Fighter Paramedic of 18 years. I spent too many of them years just sucked it up and looken for the worm in the bottom of my bottle. See when I started on the trip through life it was not cool to talked about stuff that bothered you. I would rather chase an armed thug through a dark alley that let anything out and it worked for a while then just as all good things end so did my keeping it locked up. I don’t really even know how to start I have never had anything hurt this much or stay with me this long, It started in the winter of1979 I was a real popular kid at school,,,,, wile I was not running to the library or the office to keep from getting my ass kicked as all good little nerds did I took a class that was as far from being me as anything could have been drama yea cool a nerd in acting class, well I soon learned that I was not the only one in the class and I also being on stage was a small part of it there where props to make and wires to be run. That was where I met her it was her final year of school and I had 2 more. She kind of just kept an eye on me let me know I was not alone. We did 2 productions a year one in fall and one in spring well the fall production went with out a problem. I felt a bit more part of something it was the stage crew that stuck together and the actors well they had there own little thing. Springtime came and it was time for another play. It went well no, it went great! Everyone was so jazzed about how it went. The people left the actors and actresses got their flowers and the stage crew sat and took a breather then it was brake down time as we worked late into the evening. Chris she did the lighting she was good to she was always up in the lighting booth so we did not see much of each other during the performance. As things ended I was walking to the front of the auditorium she yelled down to me and as I looked up she tossed me down a long stem red rose and even as dark as it was the light of her smile was as though the spot light was on just me. We just looked at each other. I did not know that would be the last time I would ever see her again. She was killed in a car accident the very next day. Well it was a motorcycle accident a person turned in front of her. She was killed a few blocks from my house god this is ripping my heart out see back then they did not clean the road after like they do today I just sat there for hours and cried. This was 27 years ago and it seems like yesterday. I have never really been able to find words for my loss, but Kenney Chesney was able to he did a song called who you’d be today. The first time I heard it she came too me and I knew it would that song. I still cry as hard for her today as I did those 27 long years ago. They tell me there are just some things you don’t get over. Chris i will love you forever and miss you everyday.

 
 
Current Location: home
Current Mood: crushed
Current Music: bob seger kenny chesney
 
 
 
05 October 2006 @ 05:11 pm
Under the cut is an optional format for your posts in this community. You do not have to use this format, but if you are unsure of how to post in this community, this may be of help.

Optional dead_classmates post formatCollapse )
 
 
18 July 2006 @ 11:51 pm
Hi Everyone,

I just joined, so here's an intro post:

I'm a senior in college right now; however, when I was in high school I knew way to many people who died. To be more specific, 6 people who were in school with me at the time died between my junior and senior year and only two of them were in the same incident. One of these people happened to be one of my best friends. Well, he used to be, actually. We had gotten into a huge fight a few months before he died. We weren't talking at the time. This post is about him


Name: Marcus

Bio: He was a small person. Nerdy. Obsessive. Had so much in common with me. Loved martial arts and was great at it. Loved basketball. Loved friends and fun and adventure. Had so many plans for the future. He wasn't the best student, but he was smart. He had a younger brother who was his "mini me." He had a deep voice and it was so distinctive, I can still remember what it sounded like. He loved women and he hated the skinny stereotype of women, he wanted them to be full and curvy. He was happy most of the time. He was dramatic. And he was a loyal friend.

What happened: He was 17 years old, two days away from his 18th birthday. He was playing basketball after school in one of the gyms. He colapsed. An ambulance was called, they took him to the ER, where he was pronounced dead. It turns out that he had had a heart condition that had never been detected. A rare condition that I don't know much about and forgot the name of, but needless to say, his heart just stoped one day while he was playing basketball. And aparently, this condition has few to no symptoms, so there was no reason for anyone to detect it.

Obituaries and other news articles: Because it happened a few years ago, I don't have much online that I can post in terms of articles. This site

http://www.oakparkjournal.com/Stories2002/Henderson-Death-OPRFHS-Oct-28-2002-7-30pm.html

is from a local newspaper about the incident. I have newpaper articles too, but no scanner, so I can't post them here.

Your thoughts: How I feel, huh? Well, he and I were BEST friends through 8th grade and most of high school. He fell in love with me and I happened to be dating his best friend. Same old love triangle story, huh? Marcus and I never dated and we remained quite close even after he told me he was in love with me. He said he would never stop loving me. Eventually, our friendship got in the way of my relationship with his best friend. We fought, a lot. I chose the boyfriend over the friend. And then he died before I had the chance to rectify what I had done. I'm not with that boyfriend anymore. And I lost a wonderful friend.
 
 
Current Mood: calm
 
 
07 July 2006 @ 09:33 pm
Will  
My cousin Will was a spark in family activities, in a dull school day, and in any type of wildlife.  His mom used to babysit me sometimes, and he'd come play.  Being a year and a week older than me (which made his death hit me hard...we were so close in age, it didn't seem right), we'd always stand back-to-back and compare our heights.  When I was in 4th grade and he was in 5th, I'd pass him on my way back to class after lunch.  His class had recess at our lunch time, and every day he'd be standing outside when I passed.  "Hi Jessie," he'd say.  I remember once, my best friend said "Oooh, Jessica's got a boyfriend!" and I had to explain that I didn't, that he was my cousin.  I remember countless times where he'd ride the wrong bus home from school to sit with my younger brother and come home and play for a bit.  We only lived a few streets apart, but because of our big elementary school, we had more than one bus for our neighborhood.  Will also loved to hunt with his dad, race dirt bikes, and ride any type of motorized vehicle.
 
It was Will's love for nature that played the part in his death.  I figure that if he had to die, it's good that he was doing something he loved.
 
April 14, 2000, Will got home from school and went to pick up his older sister Jenna from her bus stop on his three-wheeler.  Once Jenna was home, Will again left the house, this time with a friend.  They rode down the street to ride along a large canal in our neighborhood.  It had been a rainy day, so puddles were all along the path.  Will's ATV hit a puddle and flipped on him.  His friend, fortunately, fell off the back and wasn't crushed by the vehicle.  His friend brought back my aunt, who performed CPR until my uncle and the ambulances Jenna called arrived.  My aunt and uncle performed CPR, as did those with the ambulance.  They called in the Traumahawk to air-lift my cousin to St. Mary's Medical Center.  He passed away there later that night.
 
It didn't make sense.  Will was a great kid, a great cousin.  Why did he have to die?  I remember blaming God the night he died, but that was only out of immature frustration.  The open-casket viewing was very sad.  I went with my parents, and my brother stayed at home, being several years too young to understand.  I said my goodbyes with my family, but I didn't shed a tear.  My mother was proud of my strength.  At the Memorial Service, I teared up a bit, but I didn't cry.
 
I don't let my dad so much as joke about mini bikes, motorcycles, ATVs, or anything related.  Once he joked that he would get my brother a mini bike.  I bawled for over an hour, and my mom had to explain to him that I hated the subject.  When he starts to bring it up, I give him a warning look and leave the room.  I don't like the idea of dangerous things like that.  He died a week before Easter that year, and I got a Guardian Angel pin in my Easter basket.  I wore it every single day for a year until I lost it on the playground in school.  I was torn apart, and my mom and I went shopping for a new one.  I haven't worn one since middle school, and I stopped wearing it constantly sometime between 5th and 6th grade.  Now that I'm driving, though, I have a Guardian Angel visor clip for my car.
 
Each year since his death on his birthday (September 26, 1988), Jenna has thrown him a birthday party.  She invites his old friends and the cousins old enough to walk out to his cross memorial on the canal in which he crashed.  She always gets enough balloons to let off into the sky and send to Will.  Throughout the years, the crowd gets smaller and smaller, and it's sad.  It's a nice way to remember him and tell him Happy Birthday.  Whenever I need someone to talk to, I always pray to him, as if he's my own special angel.  My aunt made bumper stickers and stickers and got a tattoo, all of butterflies, for him.  That's his unofficial symbol.  Every time I see one, I smile.  Our elementary school had built a new pavilion, and there's a plaque on it, dedicating it to him.  There's also a special bench in the Butterfly Garden with a plaque with his name on it.  I vaguely remember a star being dedicated for him as well.  It's great to know how much people love and care for him.
 
He's been gone for 6 years, but Will will always be with me.  He's my cousin, my angel, my butterfly.
 
And, please, if you're ever a driver/passenger on an ATV/motorcycle/related object, be careful.
 
 
Current Mood: melancholy
 
 
03 July 2006 @ 09:09 am
My private middle school was very small, and the public high school that I currently go to is very large. I knew I was going to have trouble adjusting. The very first day, in Japanese class, I met Amy, and we fast became friends. I was able to adjust to my new school better because of this.

We were very similar people. We both loved books, we both disliked movie adaptations of books. We both liked things that many people in our class didn't (musicals for her, comic books for me). We both were very stubborn and opinionated people, and tended not to give up an argument until the other person backed down, which meant that our own debates often didn't go anywhere. Our other friend, Lorraine, said that she was sometimes afraid of jumping in, for fear of being overwhelmed.

Her fifteenth birthday was last April. I met her parents for the first time at the party. We ended up standing around their piano singing while her dad played show tunes. They were all unbelievably nice people.

Late last May, on Memorial Day weekend, they flew up (her dad was a pilot) to spend time in the mountains. I returned to school on Tuesday ready to discuss the events of the weekend with Amy. The latest X-Men movie, our new car, her trip. I was pulled out of my first class by Lorraine and one of our other friends, Elizabeth. They took me to another classroom where our student counselor informed me that Amy and her parents' plane had hit turbulence and crashed into the mountains. All three of them died. I didn't even know her a year.

They didn't deserve it. They were great people. Amy was only fifteen. We were going to go to Six Flags together this summer. I'm still having some trouble dealing. It's easier for me to forget about it all, but I know that's not the right way. I don't know how I'll start sophomore year this September. I'm not really sure how to finish this up, so I'll just stop here, I guess.
 
 
21 June 2006 @ 02:12 pm
There were 11 of us. We grew up together in Brooklyn in the 80s. 11 boys of varying nationalities that were thrown together because they tested well and were "gifted."

We got through elementary school by sticking together. 11 geeks, dealing with bullies as a group, studying together, making birthdays and holidays an event where parents dreaded what came to be known as the "geek horde."

Junior high was the same. Though we had been scattered to different classes, the curriculum was the same, and we all went to the same school. So we still helped one another in our own strong subjects. We even chatted up girls in tandem. Too nervous to do anything but really kiss, the "horde" was a well oiled machine. "Our own future leaders of the world" our teachers called us. Times were good. We were brothers, sharing stories on how to deal with everything from algebra to parents who didn't speak english very well. Comparing notes on all manner of things from Social sciences class to what to do since the earth science teacher was absent to what a certain girl liked in guys.

High School saw us go different ways. Some stayed local, I got moved to the suburbs with my family. The contact was less frequent, but for that, it was all the more intense. Girlfriends had to be approved (or at least met) because they were often "told SO much about you guys!!" Weekend camping trips, clubs, our first forays into drinking and partying. The horde was in it for the long haul.

College saw us get even more distant. Jeremy left for Kalamzoo. I stayed in the city. Others went to MIT, Cal Tech, Harvard. Thankfully, through the internet and summer vacations, we still got together. Mostly playing catch-up and sharing advice on jobs and our majors.

Summer of 1998, I got the call. We all did. Jeremy called all ten of us from his office on a conference. He was getting married!!! I (being oldest) was to be best man, and the rest of them groomsmen. It was gonna be a big party. The rest of the horde had finished college and just returned home. Jeremy was staying out there with his fiance. This was the start of the end, and we all knew it. Soon, life would take its course and we'd all be married and have our own families, spread out all over the country (if not the world) with little chance of hanging like we used to.

"SO be it!!!" My friend Warren screamed. He had just got a honda for a graduation present. He decided to drive there. "ROAD TRIP!!" Kris yelled. He had a license. He rented a van for the other six of us. So, it was decided. With walkie talkies between cars, we were making a summer trip to drive to Michigan from New York, party one last time together, and come back.

The trip there was great. Singing old songs, remeniscing about girls and teachers and commiserating about college. We hit town like sailors on leave. No bar left unturned. By the end, bartenders and owners alike were sad to see us leave. We got all dressed up and after a two-day bachelor party stood for Jeremy's wedding.

It was gorgeous. His wife was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen that day. And the wedding and celebration after was the most fun the horde had since we almost set fire to a Jersey park.

The day after, we knew it was time to go home. Most of us had jobs waiting to start. I had grad school. So we piled into the car and the van. I stepped up into the passenger side of the van, thinking I would sleep most of the way back like I did on the way in. "Oh no, I want to sleep to." Stefan said. "OK, I'll flip you for it."

I lost.

I got the back seat in the honda, and we were off. It was quiet, and the second day on the road we were rested, so the talk went back and forth between cars. We stopped for food, and to use the facilities a couple times. Things were winding down, and we kept up the banter as we all looked down the road at what life was to become without the horde.

Somewhere in Pennsyvania, I had nodded off. I was woken by a loud >BANG< which was quickly followed by screeching tires and a crash that set my teeth to grating. Warren picked up the walkie, and he yelled into it, "I hope you guys are ahead of that!! It sounds like they'll be fixing that for hours!" and then we noticed that there was no one behind us.

"Hello??? Kris? Don't fuck with me man. Answer!!"

"HELLO!!! CHRIS!!! STEF?!?!?! NICK!!!! Y-Y-Y-YOU GUYS QUIT FUCKING AROUND!!! THIS ISN'T FUNNY!!! ANY OF YOU!!!"

I thought they had taken the joke too far now, so as the "older brother", I took the walkie. "OK guys, you've had your fun. We're swinging back, nobody's behind us anyways. How far back are you?"

no answer.

Warren did a U-turn and we went back to the crash. A semi had blown the front right tire and sent it into something. The cab was wrecked. The driver was lying on the ground unconscious. We could see that the cab hit SOMETHING, but didn't know what.

We walked off to the shoulder, looked down a ditch towards a farm. There was a bit of blue we could see. It was the right color. Warren and Jaime couldn't go any further. I had to. I had to know. I walked to the van, and there were police there already. I checked the plates, and I couldn't be sure it was the right van.

Warren's voice, coming from inside the van, "I hope that you're not what he's looking at. We don't need this now. PLEASE guys, answer me!!!"

I had to run, so I did. I ran back to the highway, hunched over the honda, and threw up. Wretching, I managed to whisper, "It's them." Warren and Jean started to cry. Tony fainted. None of us thought this would happen. What do we do now?

Hope.

Hope came a few minutes later when we saw an ambulance. It pulled up to the edge of the shoulder and we thought "Hey, they wouldn't call one if the guys are all gone!!" I don't remember how, but the doors were gone, and they started going in, and one by one, six of our friends, our brothers, were pulled from what was left. Similarly, one by one, their faces were covered.

At the end of that week, we had gotten faxes from their parents letting us claim the bodies and send them home. Tony spoke Spanish, I speak Chinese, Warren: Korean, and Jean spoke tagalog. Each of us contacted and talked for hours with our friend's families, explaining the situation. As brothers in spirit and heart, we had them sent home and set up their funerals. One for each day of the week, except for Sunday. Tony and Jean were devout catholics, so they said we should lay them all to rest and leave that one day because even god had a day of rest.

We would find out later that the truck hit the van (obviously) and sent it rolling off the highway. Crushing those inside. If the damage to their bodies weren't bad enough and they survived, their brains would have been severely compromised in function.

After laying the last one to rest, the last of us. The four remaining, secluded ourselves in Warren's basement for 2 1/2 weeks to drown our sorrows. After that, we came to decide that their lives meant something even more to us. They were our family. Somtimes even more than blood. We had to honor them.

We chose tattoos. A black band around the bicep. Like you wear when your family member has died. To remember them, we got "brother" was left in relief in our native languages. "Life is hard, and painful." Tony said. So we got them done ta-tau. The old fashioned way with bamboo sticks that had sharpened teeth. Each of us taking four hours to get it done.

It's been eight years, and whenever I look at my arm, all the memories come back. And I can feel them again. The joy of getting a date, the happiness of passing an exam, even the pain of an arguement with the parents.

I feel their loss even now, God only knows what would have happened had such great minds been left here on earth. Maybe that's why they're gone. He needed some intelligent conversation. I dunno. I'm just glad they didn't suffer.
 
 
Current Mood: sad
Current Music: God Gave Rock -N- Roll To You --KISS