All We Have Are Distant Memories
It was elementary school when we met. 4th grade, Mr. Sommer’s class? I forgot when. But if Joraver met you in the 4th grade, I probably did too. That makes sense. Remember the G.A.T.E. program with Ms. Billington? Yeah. That was the year when we played the stock market. TWAG. Remember? Toys R Us, Wrigley, And Gap. It was me, you, and Danny in that group. Haha.
Things got even better in the 5th grade, Mrs. Dauer’s class. At the beginning of the year, we both joined Mrs. Rivas’s music program. We were in the percussion section. Dang, man. You were so good at drumming. I looked up to you. My best memory of that was when you taught me how to subdivide 8ths into 16ths for the first time. It blew my mind. Haha.
6th grade, Mr. B’s class, was awesome too. Remember when we would play football on that small strip of land next to the brick wall during recess? We had Carl, Danny, Ricky, Hastings, Carson, Joraver, Kyle, both Jordans and a bunch of other guys playing. Still wish they let us play tackle. And remember when the grass was wet, there would be contests to see who could slide the farthest? Remember when we were throwing rocks over that metal shade thing? Remember when we also played basketball? Remember the camping trip to Sonora? Haha…
But in middle school, we lost contact. Different class schedules. Different groups of friends. Different clubs. You joined a sport. I continued with band. We would see each other from time to time, but that was it. I heard about you and your girlfriend. I was happy for you. But we were already strangers.
I don’t think I saw you in high school. I think you stayed at West campus while I went to East campus. That’s probably the reason why. But Senior year, at graduation practice, I’m pretty sure I saw you when I was making my speech and walking down that aisle. When I saw you, I thought to myself, “Hey. It’s Justin. I’m happy to have become friends with that person.”
I didn’t think the next time I would hear about you would be when you died.
When I saw the Facebook posts, I was shocked. I didn’t think something like that would happen to you, especially in that new apartment complex. It was supposed to be a safe neighborhood. You died just down the street from my house. Why didn’t we hear the gunshots last night?
At first, I didn’t cry. We became strangers. But then I remembered all those memories that I had of you. I relived them in my mind. Then reality hit. You are gone. The tears came.
We may have become strangers, but we are also old friends.
This is the first time a good, old friend of mine has died. I wish there was more I could do other than to say rest in peace, to give condolences, and to hope that they catch whoever did this.
Justin Hesketh, 18, died on Tuesday, December 20, 2011, at approximately 6:00 p.m. at the cross streets of Polk and Herndon at the Palo Alto apartment complex.
