Collin

Modest Mouse’s Missed the Boat used to play most often on Collin Gordon’s iPod.

“Looking towards the future
We were begging for the past
Well we knew we had the good things
But those never seemed to last.”

That, of course, was years before he joined ISIS. And years before he died.

I don’t know what Collin’s favourite song was because we were close friends–we weren’t. But for much of my life, I wished we were. Until I learned how Collin had changed in early 2014, I admired him.

I first had a conversation with Collin in the fall of 2005, when we were both playing for the SAIT Trojans volleyball team in Calgary. He easily made the team as one of our strongest left side players. I worked hard in tryouts and barely made the final cut as the team’s back-up libero.

He had probably never heard of me before our freshman year on the Trojans, but I was well aware of who he was. I had shaken his hand after numerous high school and club volleyball games. Guys who watched him play back then would often comment on his impressive vertical. Girls who watched him play would often comment on his good looks. There was something very likeable about him. My memories of Collin are disjointed, but positive. He recognized my hard work on the volleyball court even though I was one of the weakest players on the team. He invited me to parties that were a level beyond my popularity. There was a lot to like.

After my only year of college volleyball, I didn’t really see or hear from Collin until 2008. Coincidentally, both of us began studying at Thompson Rivers University in Kamloops, B.C. that year. As sports editor of TRU’s student newspaper, The Omega, I decided to run a section of TRU WolfPack player bios. Since Collin was on the volleyball team, I figured it would be easy to ask him the series of questions I asked several other athletes that year: Who is your favourite athlete? What song plays most often on your iPod? What is your favourite sport (other than the sport you play)? What is your dream car? If you could be anywhere in the world, where would it be?

And that is when I learned Missed the Boat played most often on his iPod. Actually, in his words, it was a tie between Missed the Boat and Electric Feel by MGMT. Through that brief interview with Collin, I also learned that he dreamed of driving a Lamborghini Gallardo and living in a small town outside of LA.

I never spoke to Collin from 2010 to 2014. I had gone off to England to study abroad and finish my Journalism degree. Studying abroad wasn’t initially part of my plans. But, in 2009, I fell in love with a girl who was on a student exchange in Kamloops and happened to be in a few of my classes. That relationship, which is still going strong, took us across three continents. I was busy during those four-and-a-half years, and Collin and I were never that close anyway–we didn’t have much of a reason to stay in touch. But his Facebook posts often landed in my newsfeed, so my finger didn’t ever completely leave the pulse of Collin’s life. I remember Collin posting his favourite music and upcoming events early on. But at some point a transition happened. It wasn’t until early 2014 that I noticed his contribution to my newsfeed change from the latest remixes to text-heavy posts referencing Islam. At that point, I wasn’t concerned about my former teammate. Though he referenced the Islamic State, I had no idea what ISIS was back then. Many of his posts quoted the Quran, which also didn’t bother me. I’ve lived in the Middle East. My girlfriend is Muslim. I believed then, as I do now, that it’s a peaceful religion.

But as time went on Collin’s posts grew more aggressive in nature. And as more of his Facebook friends connected the dots, realizing he was singing the praises of a terrorist group that was gaining news coverage, heated debates began to unfold in the comments sections of his statuses. Some of those who commented warned Collin he was getting involved with a dangerous organization. Others cursed at him. A few said they were praying for the old Collin to return. Most were confused and didn’t understand what had changed in his life.

I, too, was confused, so I reached out to Collin via a personal Facebook message on May 11, 2014.

Hi Collin, I’ve noticed the stream of comments on your Facebook timeline. I understand you’ve made quite the lifestyle switch. I’m not messaging you to judge, or inject my own opinion; rather, I find it interesting that you’ve made this change, and, being a journalist, I’m curious if you’d be open for an interview? Let me know if this is something you’re interested in. Wade

He wrote back the next day.

Wade, I will think about what you said. Before making decisions of importance in Islam we are encouraged to pray upon it for divine guidance and finally take council with our brothers.

Over the next 24 hours, we sent a few short messages back and forth, from Canada to Syria, via Facebook. Collin wanted to understand what my intent was for writing the article. “It’s the tradition of Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him, that before one enters an agreement they agree that there should be no deceit between us,” he wrote. I assured him that I would do my best to write an objective piece. My plan was to talk to him, then conduct further interviews with university professors who study religion, friends/former acquaintances of Collin’s and possibly even other journalists who were covering events unfolding in the Middle East. “Bottom line intent of writing this: I think there is a fascinating story to be told,” I wrote back to him.

On May 13, Collin wrote back again. He explained that he had five conditions that would have to be met before he agreed to an interview. First, he wanted my research to include all of the Facebook Notes he had written about the Islamic State. Second, he asked I watch a video called Under the Shade of the Sharia. Third, he requested I donate 2.5 per cent of my profits to a Muslim mosque, with specific instructions to them that they are to put it to aid Muslim Orphans. Fourth, he said I could use any material from his social media accounts; however, he would only agree to an interview after he saw my initial work and the tone it had taken. “Also, I will do the refuting of the lies and slander that is protested by people who don’t give the full truth, rather than having them add lies upon the truth,” he wrote. Finally, he wanted the story to link to both his Facebook and Twitter accounts.

I responded the same day.

Hi Collin, Thanks for, once again, getting back to me. I think we’re on different pages in terms of what a balanced feature story would look like. I’m guessing this probably won’t work, as there are certain terms we each have that the other clearly has issues with. 1 — I’d be happy to read all of your notes as part of my research. But I wouldn’t limit myself to that. Your viewpoint is one of many. I would take information from multiple sources. 2 — Watching the video you have suggested isn’t a problem, I’d be willing to do that. 3 — I’m not opposed to giving part of my profits to a charitable cause, but limiting it to specifically a Muslim mosque takes the balance and credibility out of a story. I’d be willing to donate to a neutral cause, which takes religion out of the picture. 4 — As a journalist, I never let those who I interview see and/or make edits to the stories I write. In this profession, that completely takes away the credibility and objectiveness of an article. Also, as the reporter, I’d give you the chance to rebut statements. But I’d also give others a chance to rebut statements you make, in order to be fair. 5 — I’d be happy to link your Facebook page and Twitter account to the published article. Once again, it sounds like we’re pretty far apart on this, but I do want to thank you for your consideration. I know it took time out of your day to consider this, and I appreciate it. Thanks, Wade

Collin’s choice to decline the interview on May 14, 2014 was the last time I communicated with him. About three months later, several media outlets picked up on the fact a former SAIT and TRU volleyball player was fighting for ISIS. After the initial wave of news stories, I chose to delete Collin from my list of Facebook friends. Though I hoped he would somehow change his mind, my faith was dwindling. His posts even managed to affect my emotions, so I decided to disconnect.

In January 2015, while visiting my girlfriend’s family in England, I Googled Collin’s name and came across a CTV article suggesting he and his brother were killed in Syria on Christmas Eve.