Friday afternoon, my weekend outlook was "top down." I had made it through a long week at work after being off for a fabulous beach vacation, GP had arrived home safely from business travel, and the forecast called for Minnesota perfect weather. The cleaning lady had been to the house on Friday morning so I knew there weren't even any chores waiting for me when I got home Friday after work. Gary and I were looking forward to doing a few things together on Saturday, Saturday night some friends were coming over, and Sunday we'd relax around the house and do some cooking, a favorite weekend activity.
Saturday morning we headed out early -- top down -- to the Minneapolis Farmers Market. Summer got off to a late start here in the Midwest, but finally the crops were producing and I'd been looking forward all week to roaming the aisles of the farmers market for the first time this season. We never made it to the farmers market.
Gary yelled as he saw the other driver run the red light....Thank goodness no one was hurt. We went about the rest of our day with a feeling of gratefulness that we were able to do so. Our friends came over at 7:00 as planned. Drinks were poured, and we'd just sat down around the fire pit on the patio when the phone rang.
The US Military Academy at West Point doesn't have fraternities and sororities like most universities; instead, cadets are assigned to a "company" made up about about 40 per class. Gary was a B3 Bandit, and even after almost 30 years since his West Point graduation, the Bandits are close "brothers." When they get together they fall into step even though military service, deployments, wars, careers, and distance have kept most of them apart for 30 years. One Bandit has been one of Gary's two best friends since they met in college; he and Kenny roomed together at West Point and served together in Germany. His wife Terie is my friend, and our children are the same age; we've had lots of family fun together, including tailgating at West Point football games and vacationing at the Jersey Shore. Ken had a distinguished military career, retiring last year as an Army Colonel after 25 years of service.
It was Gary's other best friend Rob, also a Bandit, who called last night with the devastating news that Ken died suddenly yesterday. He was out for a morning jog and collapsed. Quick rewind: earlier yesterday Gary had a call from Ken. Gary answered with his usual "Hey Carrick what's up?" But Ken wasn't on the phone. Gary figured he'd picked up too late. I'll call him later, Gary said, since we were about to eat dinner. As it turns out, it had been Ken's son calling to deliver the news: in the morning Ken had gone out for a jog and collapsed.
Ken and Terie married just after West Point graduation. Their daughter Samantha, a school teacher in Nashville, is engaged to be married this November, to an Army serviceman. Their son Chance is entering his senior year at West Point. Their son Corey is entering his senior year at Monmouth University, where he plays on the golf team. Ken and Terie both would have turned 50 in 2014. He was jogging yesterday because it's on Terie's bucket list to run the Army 10 Mile for her 50th birthday. Ken loved Terie, loved his kids, loved the Army, loved golf and loved boating with his family (the last 3 not necessarily in that order all the time!)
So many are grieving for this inexplicable loss. My heart aches for Ken's wife and children. And I grieve with Gary, who is struggling to comprehend the loss of his dear friend. It was not surprising to me that within minutes of receiving the news last night, Gary was in touch with many of his Bandit brothers, giving and receiving comfort. I know the Bandits will be there for each other, and for Terie and her kids not only the in the coming days, but always. That's just how it is with this group. Special friendships born out of a special place.
My weekend began full of "top down" anticipation. Someone made a careless mistake, ran a red light and changed the course of my day. I was thankful no one was hurt, but did lament that my beautiful A5 silver convertible was likely totaled or would never be the same. Twelve hours later all I could think about was our B3 friend, and how life would never be the same.
Rest in peace Colonel Carrick. You will live on in the hears and memories of many forever.
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