There is Beauty in Tragedy
One of my closet friends was taken away from me in the middle of the night. A horrible mix of alcohol and someone being behind the wheel of a car at 4am caused his death. It was one of the most heartbreaking things I’ve ever experienced in my life. It’s funny how your mind sometimes tries to block things out when you search for clarity on such a tragic moment in time. The pain I experienced on the night of his death is still easily one of the most haunting memories I can recall at a moments notice.
I remember the police saying that the driver was at one point driving with their knees, going 70mph through twists and turns out in the gloomy, wooded roads 30 minutes from our house. Unfortunately, this late night drive ended up costing my best friend his life, along with a couple other people I knew. The vehicle had spun out of control flipping onto it’s side, and one of my friends flew through the windshield hitting a tree dead on, crushing his skull. He died on impact. My other friend, Jason, had been flung from the vehicle as it barrel-rolled into the woods. As the car rolled, it ended up on top of my friend, Marcus, crushing his chest, and pushing the blood flow to his brain keeping him conscious and alive. If you’ve ever seen the movie Signs you’ll understand exactly what I’m talking about. It’s the scene where Mel Gibson’s wife is pinned to a tree, but once they remove the car she dies. Just like the movie, the medics watched hopelessly. Once they lifted the car off of Marcus the blood would leave his brain and he would pass on. There was nothing that could be done. Nothing could save my best friend.
The Day We Met
Marcus and I first met on the street between our houses where he was selling candy bars for a fundraiser. We connected instantly and were pretty much inseparable from that point on (or so I thought). His family quickly became mine and vice versa. I’d never had an older brother, and to be honest, I always wanted one. Marcus was the guy who even taught me how to play basketball (to this day I’m not very good, however). Most nights we would spend hours having dunking contests or gaming hard on whatever Madden video game was out that particular year.
The day I remember the most, though, was when I discovered Marcus was a real friend. Not one of those fair-weather friends we all seem to have. He ended up beating down my nemesis, a middle-school bully named James in my front yard. At that moment in time, it was the ultimate dis. James had come to my house asking to borrow a basketball. I had been standing on the front porch, but had the sinking suspiscion that something was going to get way out of hand. Often times James would pick on me before and after class. I happened to be a short, scrawny kid and didn’t know how to handle bullies. James would make fun of my height, my weight, or would pick on the clothes I wore. My family didn’t have a lot of money to buy clothes, but my mom did the best she could, so most of my attire consisted of Wal-Mart, Bugle Boy, and Everlast. Because he had teased me relentlessly (even making me cry once in class), I wasn’t fond on the idea of giving him my basketball that day. This quickly lead to him belittling me. Marcus happened to overhear James running his mouth, though, and came to defend me. As James continued trash talking, Marcus stormed outside to confront him. James and Marcus ended up doing that scene, where, before a fight two people are practically touching noses and staring intently at one another. Naturally, one of them snapped, and as quick as a trigger, James pushed Marcus. “Is this really happening?” I thought. Because as luck would have it, Marcus was a bigger and stronger. Marcus’s calm demeanor broke, and he grabbed James by the shirt and threw him into my trash cans. James tried to retaliate, but Marcus landed a hell of a doozy on his right cheek sending him into my recycling bins this time. Not wanting to appear weak, James ended up back to his feet, but awkwardly backed away from my house while he spit out threats of gang members coming to beat us up. It never happened, and James never came back to try and steal or kick my ass.
That was the day I realized Marcus was the real deal.
I was forever grateful to have a friend like him. He was the first to teach me how to stick up for myself, and also how to honor your work and never leave a job unfinished. He invested countless hours into my life and I often looked at him as a father figure, since my dad was missing from the picture. These memories still cling to my heart and remind me that he’s gone but not forgotten.
The last time I saw Marcus was a few weeks prior to the accident. We were sitting on my trampoline talking about how smiliar we were. How we liked to stay out on the streets playing ball until late night. We even discussed something as simple as his new pair of glasses (I had never seen him in glasses before. Funny how that sticks with you). He looked nothing like himself and in a way he was growing up and becoming a man. I’m glad I got to see that part of him.
I ended up writing a song entitled Beauty in Tragedy as a dedication to his life on earth. I know from fans replies that it has moved and encouraged many of them to seek healing of those they have lost. Marcus’ morals and values are branded on my heart and he will always be a legend in my eyes. He was a huge inspiration because of the time and sweat he invested in my life. For those reading this that have lost someone close to you, please dwell on the good they brought to your life, even if theirs was tragically cut short. Appreciate the memories you had with that person, and cherish the ones you make now with others. We don’t have all the time in the world, and we never know when that will run out. Invest your time in those that you love; that brother or sister you adore and make it your goal to be their Marcus. Be the type of person who speaks love and breathes life. Be the one who is willing to throw a punch to defend someone from a bully, or willing to teach a trade. We need each other more than we think. We need to pursue one another, because at the end of the day all that this earth has to offer will wither and die. But the lessons and love our friends pass on can always be retained as a letter enscribed on our heart.
You’re missed Marcus, but not forgotten.. and live on in the songs we sing.
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