Death of a Friend

I have been both lucky and blessed in my life to have had a handful of good friends. I'm not talking about acquaintances, but friends. Two of them have passed. Both of them have had a profound affect on my life and helped shape me into the man that I believe I am. Their death left a gapping hole in my life. One was a man by the name of Mel Epstein, a boxing trainer by trade, who became like a grandfather to me and taught me all I know about boxing. The other was Steve Wallace who was a friend like no other. One has been gone 28 years, the other 8 years. They are still missed.

I give this four stars because of its importance as an event, not because it's special. When I reached my thirties, friends started to succumb to mortality occasionally, and now that I'm in my fifties its a little more frequent. Not that I'm attending a funeral a week or even every year, and I am by no means inured to them. With each death I feel a little more loss, as though a part of me has died with them. Celebrate the dead, but don't forget the living.

I guess the bitch of the Marines is somebody get killed in something resembling combat here and there. That's what happened with a friend of mine that I was stationed in Japan with. I called him Crunch since he had a sort of random destructive power that swirled about him. We talked of many things during our stint overseas since we didn't have much else to do, stuff as mundane as old cartoons we used to watch and as serious as the nature of God and the meaning of life. He was killed in Iraq less than a year after I got out. He was 24. Wherever you are this Memorial Day, drink a drink for Crunch, damnit, for Crunch drinks no more.

Back in high school I was friends with this girl and one day I asked her about why she didn't play soccer. She told me about her leg and we spent the rest of the class period just talking and bsing. The next day it was announced she died in a car crash. It was a massive shock to the entire school and me.

Well, I guess KJLloyd (46) will have something to say about this comment, but here goes. I turned 21 in Viet Nam with a few close friends. One, Stanley and I were very close. Had gone through flight school, jungle training, long nights on guard duty. We had talked of friends, love, and the what we'll do when we get "back to the world." We had had my 21st party in a bunker. Goodies from home, some wine from the PX, a small record player with Sgt. Peppers. Close to midnight we were going to midnight chow. Walking in a light breeze, I ducked behind a revetment to light a cigarette, I smoked in those days. A sudden rocket attack (122mm) and Standly was gone. Not enough to send home. It took over 20 years to get over and sometimes still haunts me. Now I have shared something I have not spoken of in a long time. So...have a ball with your comments...

It is sad to lose friends.I know 2 young ladies who have died recently.I went to high school with one.She had a bad heart.The other,though married,kind of liked me.I found out she died of cancer at the obscene age(to die) of 34.

I lost a close friend. A person whom I had tried to help. I loved him like a brother and he stayed with me for about two years before succumbing to the ravages of drug addiction. That was five years ago and I don't think those scars will ever go away.

I think the death of a friend is a life changing experience. Within the past few years I have lost 3 very close friends. You feel empty when this happens. I have had fellow firefighters killed in the line of duty and one who committed suicide. Again very sad and life changing. My best friend of all, my mother died at the age of 27. She was a great woman and I miss her dearly, I was only 5 when she died but I remember the vast love she had for myself and my brother and sister.

my best friend died when she was only 31. she left a great son and a beautiful baby daughter. lifes not fair as its always said. she had got her life together. she had went back to school and graduated from college and she had just become one of our hospitals top nurses working in the neurological unit with some of the most difficult and heartbreaking cases when one morning she came home from her graveyard shift and sat on a chair as her son was leaving for work and when he returned home that evening he could hear his baby sister just screaming and when he went inside my friend had died still sitting in the chair. it turned out that she had a very serious heart condition that if it had been found earlier she would have needed a transplant to try to save her.i look back now and i can see some of the signs that wasnt noticed at the time as anything serious. she was always seemed so strong and determined and other than the usual colds etc.. she never seemed ill.i know i miss her and i wis... Read more

In 2002 I lost two friends, Lesley and Paul, both of whom I had known for over 30 years. Lesley's death was totally unexpected and when I heard the news I felt as if I had been suckerpunched. I was numb inside for days. Paul's death was different. We became best friends from the moment we met in September 1967. It was Paul who gave me the nickname Flick based on the Jean Shepherd character and he was the kid who taught me my very first guitar chords. We were in garage bands together, hitchiked together (with our guitars), and there was a time when you never saw one without the other. In 1977 he was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis and over the course of the next 25 years it took his life piece by piece. By coincidence we both moved from New York to Florida, myself in the 1980s and Paul in the 1990s. He introduced me to a woman named Jill who has been one of my closest friends since 1991. Paul moved to another part of Florida in 1997 and we lost touch. In June 2002 Jill got a call from... Read more

This can be a hard one. I've lost a number of people I counted as 'casual' friends and I felt sadness but was not overwhelmed. Then I lost a close friend. She had been sick a long time, most of it was due to her drug use, and she told me that her doctor had said she was dying. She was in the hospital a lot, but she always pulled through. I suppose I thought she would continue to do so, but the day came when she did not. A mutual acquaintence gave me the news, and I went immediately to her son's house (with whom she lived) and he looked at me and saidYou heard. With those words I felt a horrible sense of loss, my friend was gone and I would not see her again. Time heals, but some pain always remains.