We'd Still Be Friends

Seven years ago this Saturday, my life changed forever.

Earlier in that week of June 2000, my uncle's brother (my mother's sister's husband's brother) had a fatal heart attack while driving his daughter to softball practice. I knew Rich from various family get-togethers but most frequently from tailgating at KU football games. Rich was a real character; he was witty, funny, not shy in the least and yet he cared enough to remember the important things about a person.

On Friday, June 9, 2000, I drove to Salina, KS to attend the viewing before the funeral that was scheduled for Saturday. The viewing was held at his family's Catholic church which happened to be the same church I attended when growing up. I don't recall if the church held mass on the night of the viewing, but I do remember going to a small reception with his family at their house. Since my parent's live in Salina, I retired at their house for the night.

Saturday morning I woke up to the blistering central Kansas weather. The sun on my skin seemed hotter than normal and the humidity was high. I recall feeling odd and assumed it was in anticipation of Rich's funeral that day.

Around 9:00 in the morning, my parent's phone rang. The person on the other end of the line asked for me.

I don't exactly recall, but either my mom or dad handed me the phone. It was Jane. She said that my best friend's roommate, Sarah, had just called and said that my best friend, Cole, had been in a car accident on Friday evening. He was in the ICU at St. Luke's hospital in Kansas City. She didn't know much about what happened or much about his condition. I decided to try to reach a mutual high school friend of ours to let him know. Our friend, Micah, had recently moved to Florida and I didn't have his new contact information. Instead, I found his mother's number and called her. She provided Micah's phone number and I called to tell him what I knew about Cole.

A few minutes after I hung up, the phone rang again. It was Micah's mother. She had just spoken with Cole's mother who was at the hospital in Kansas City. She told me that the situation was much worse than Sarah knew. They didn't know if he was going to make it.

I talked to Jane and my parents about what I should do. Rich's funeral was set for that day and I had just received news that my best friend was in critical condition. Everyone told me that I should drive back to Kansas City and see Cole. I called my uncle and told him what had happened. I explained to him that it was a very difficult decision, but I was going to miss the funeral so that I could visit Cole. He was very nice and understanding and gave me no guilt.

It takes about 3 1/2 hours to get to Kansas City from Salina. I asked my sister if she wanted to come with me since it was a long drive and we were both in distress and could use each other's company. She agreed and we embarked on the journey. I don't remember much about that drive except that we both cried.

Cole was my best friend. I met him when I was in 5th grade. Although we were in the same school district and same grade, we didn't go to the same elementary school. I'd see him at events that brought the schools together. Since it was such a small school (31 in my graduating class), we saw each other often. In 7th grade, we both attended the same school. We became better friends and hung out during school and took many of the same classes. It wasn’t until we got our driving permits when we were 14 that we really became friends outside of school. Every day after school, we'd drive around and do teenage things in a small pack of about 5 or 6 friends.

Our friendship continued through high school. I had a four wheeler (ATV) and he had a dirt bike. I'd take my four wheeler out to his house in the country and we'd spend entire weekends running around pastures, county roads and rock quarries. We worked on projects and repairs together in each others garages and enjoyed a real friendship.

When it came time for college, we both applied for Kansas State University and Kansas University. Each of us was accepted at both colleges and decided on Kansas University. We lived all five years of college together. We started out in a dorm room and moved to various apartments throughout college.

After college, we both got jobs in the Kansas City area at different employers. We stayed in our Lawrence apartment for a couple of months after graduation and finally found a centrally located duplex in Kansas City in the summer of 1998. We moved in and had a great time. Every evening after work, we'd crack open the beers, make some dinner and listen to music with our friends. It seemed like every night was a big party.

One evening, early in the summer of 1999, Cole asked me if I wanted to go to a new pizza place that neither of us had tried. When we arrived, I was shocked to learn that Cole had called Jane and asked her to meet us. Jane and I had stopped seeing each other for the prior few months. Cole had set this up because he knew that we both missed each other. A month later, I asked Jane if she would marry me. We got married in November of 1999 and I moved out of the apartment. Cole found 2 people from his workplace that moved in and took over my portion of the rent. Jane and I moved to Lawrence in late December of 1999. I never lost touch with Cole and saw him quite often over the next few months. He would occasionally come down to Lawrence to have a beer and hang out on the patio with Jane and me.

Jane and I didn't have a real honeymoon after our wedding, so we booked a cruise for late May in 2000. While on the cruise, we purchased a couple of gifts for Cole and some of our other friends. When we got back, I called Cole and talked to him about the vacation. We decided that he would to come down to Lawrence for dinner on Friday, June 9 and we'd give him the gifts. I never got the chance to give him the gifts.

My sister and I arrived at the hospital early in the afternoon. The weather was completely different there than in Salina. It was cloudy, cooler and a light rain was falling. We crossed the parking lot and street and entered the hospital. We were directed to the ICU. I think we had to go down stairs or take an elevator, but I don't exactly recall. I can still see the white linoleum floor tiles and the fluorescent lights illuminating the hallway. We turned right at a sign that read "Intensive Care Unit". Several people I knew were sitting on the floor in the hallway. Some of them came up and hugged me. I could tell by their faces that there wasn't any hope of Cole surviving.

I learned that Cole was driving home from work in his 1984 Corvette. He had a friend in the passenger seat. Cole was always a reckless driver. He drove really fast and never wore a seatbelt. I remember telling him over the years that driving isn't a race. His Corvette had a targa top which is like T-tops except that there is no dividing bar. He had removed the targa top in the morning and left it in the garage since it was a nice day. Evidently, he was rounding a curve on Interstate 35 when he swerved to avoid someone changing lanes. His car went off the road and flipped. Cole and his friend were both ejected out of the open top of the car. His friend hit the side of an oncoming tractor-trailer and broke his arm and collar bone. He suffered a few cuts and scrapes. Cole was not so lucky. The back of his head hit the pavement hard.

Someone pointed me to the curtain that provided privacy to the ICU bay and indicated that Cole was in there. I pulled the curtain to the side and entered. Cole was laying on a bed, with the head of the bed partially elevated. His face and eyelids were very swollen. He had a little scrape on the back of his hand. Otherwise, he looked normal. I talked to him for a minute or so telling him what a dumbass he was. I told him that he should have worn a seatbelt. I told him that when we get through this, maybe he'll be smarter about driving. I wasn’t being mean - there was no hint of anger, aggression or belittlement in my voice. I just didn’t know what else to say.

Suddenly, it seemed absurd to talk to him. I looked at him again and I knew he wasn't there. His body was in front of me, but something told me that it was just a body. I stayed in the curtained room in silence for a few more minutes and then went back in the hall to talk with the other people that were there.

A woman dressed in slacks and a shirt walked into the area and asked if someone named "my real name" was here. I confirmed and she told me that Cole's parents had asked for me. They were in a room on the main floor and wanted to talk with me. Emotion seemed to leave me. I felt hyper-aware. My mind was very clear and I wasn't upset.

I stepped into the main hallway and learned that this woman was with the organ donation group. She explained to me that since Cole only suffered a head injury, that the rest of his body was in excellent condition for donation. Cole had not signed anything stating his desire, so the decision was up to his parents. This is why they wanted to talk with me. The woman led me to a dim but comfortably lit room. Cole's mom saw me first and fell towards me into a crushing hug. We both broke down immediately. After this long hug, I turned to see Cole's dad sitting in a chair. He looked shocked and depressed. The woman closed the door and left the room. Cole's mom and I sat down in silence. A short amount of time passed and then his mom started to ask me about Cole's intent with regard organ donation. They asked if we had ever talked about it. I told her that we both had discussed it various times. There was never a time when he blatantly stated "When I die, make sure they donate my organs." He did, however, talk about organ donation in a positive light and indicated that he wouldn't care what happened to him if he died.

I think we all wanted something good to come out of this situation so we all leaned towards donation. Cole's dad seemed a little reluctant and was had a difficult time making any decision. I stayed with them a few more minutes and then left the room to allow them to decide. His parents chose donation.

We all went back down to the ICU. His mom and dad went into the curtained room for one last time and only spent a few minutes there. They were tired and Cole's outcome was now certain. His parents made the 4 hour drive back home that night. I left too and went to my house in Lawrence.

I had dreams about Cole every night for months and months. In these dreams, I always saw his face but never heard him talk nor did I talk to him. After about a year, these dreams lessened in frequency, although they still occur occasionally. Jane was my crutch to lean on during this, the hardest time of my life so far. Cole and I were only 25 at the time and had no experience with an event of this magnitude. I don't think it occurred to either of us that one of us might die at this age. Jane was always there for me and understood how I felt.

Cole was the glue that held our group of high school friends together. Since the memorial service that was held a few weeks after his death, I have not seen a single one of them in person. I talked to Micah on the phone about a year ago, but I've really lost touch with them.

Because I am a naturally introverted person and because Cole and I had become such good friends, I had never put any effort into finding other friends. Lacking this skill, I don’t have a best friend to this day that isn't related to me in some way. There are plenty of times when I am riding in my truck or sitting around at home where I wish I could call Cole and talk to him. I don't really have anything specific to say, it would just be nice to talk to him again.

We still have Cole's gift in the upper left drawer of our dresser along side a check he wrote to me that I'll never cash. I think those items will be with me forever as my last material connections to Cole.

I sure do miss him.