I’m not in the throes of grief or anything. I hadn’t spoken to him or really even thought of him in 23 years. Hadn’t seen him since the day we graduated high school. Even the word "friend’ might be too much. Perhaps “guy I knew” would be better.
I went to a new school to start 3rd grade. One of the few things I remember from the start of that school year is that the other kids were making fun of this one kid, Jim. Apparently, the year before, he had stuck a bean of some sort in his ear or nose (I can’t remember which) and couldn’t get it out. Major 2nd grade scandal. Enough to get teased after an entire summer. It didn’t bother him. He just smiled at everything they said.
At the end of fourth grade, a long time 4th grade teacher retired. They had an assembly in her honor. They brought back one kid from every year she taught. Jim was selected to represent us, her final class. Every past student gave her a rose. Jim did too, of course, but he also leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. We were all suitably stunned and in agreement that Jim was gay or something.
In the 5th grade we became altar boys together. We served together a few times. We were probably the two best altar boys. I don’t know why I was able to excel as an altar boy, but Jim already had the reputation of a high quality individual. Good student. Friendly to the nerds and dorks. Teachers liked him, etc.
We went to the same high school. It was a private Catholic school in DC, about 45 minutes from where we lived. It was a military school. Yes, we wore military uniforms. From the beginning, I was a tremendous slacker and screw up. Jim was a superstar. He was “gung ho” which is what we called the kids who were really into the military aspect. In his senior year, he was named “cadet colonel” which is the highest rank you can achieve in the school’s military program. He was the student leader of the military corps. A very big honor. He admonished me once because my collar wasn’t buttoned properly, and my tie wasn’t pulled up. His service in the high school JROTC, coupled with his grades and all around excellence earned him an appointment to West Point.
So, we graduate and we all move on with our lives. I never see him again. Rarely think of him. My mom calls me today. She remembered Jim as that nice altar boy I went to high school with. She was a little fuzzy on how she heard about it, but apparently Jim and his family attended the same church as a friend of hers or something. They announced it in church.
I google LTC James J. Walton. He died on Saturday in Kandahar Afghanistan. In a hummer. An “improvised explosive device” and “small arms fire.” I don’t know if he had any children. I would assume he did. He was a good Catholic boy. It also would have been good for his career, I assume.
I’ve been against the war from the beginning. Still am. And even though I hadn’t spoken to Jim in 23 years, I kinda want some revenge. Isn’t that odd? Strangely, I kind of hope that he was in favor of the war. At least then his death wouldn’t be some sort of cosmic “fuck you”, you know?