Postmaster General
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Truly United It is a cold February, in 2007. We meet on Wednesday at Eagle Heights Baptist Church for an orientation of an event called “United” and how the weekend will progress. There my friends and I meet up with a few newcomers and get ready to listen to a sermon from a guest preacher. Then on Friday, we meet again for the same routine. Afterwards, we gather our bags and pack into three cars, one of which happened to be my mom’s 2001 Grand Caravan. I sit in the middle along with one of the newcomers named Chris Carpenter, in back is my best friend Tyler next to Justin and Trae. We make introductions and head towards Andy’s house which is where we will be staying for the weekend. Once we meet up with the rest of the guys, we eat, socialize and talk about the photography scavenger hunt that will take place over the next couple of days. Chris calls his dad and has him bring Chris’s guitar over and we all get a sneak peek at just how talented Chris really is; a master at guitar and not a half bad singer. Our leader Mark shares a little bit about himself and where he comes from before strumming his own little ditty on the guitar. Once the singing comes to an end we look over the list and plan a strategy to get all the items in the most comical and original way we can. By then it is very late and we all turn in for the night. Andy’s room is a do-it-yourself remodel of half the garage, and very appealing to any guy in high school. Chris is the first one asleep and also happens to have the loudest snores that anyone has ever heard, ever. “Do you hear this?” Everyone said jokingly, “How are we supposed to sleep with this racket going on?” Some moved out into the garage, some into the living room. A few of us stayed in the room and decided to have a little fun with the unconscious snorer. We found a ball and stuck it on top of his mouth to try and mute the sound and noticed that he had headphones in, blaring away. No wonder he doesn’t wake himself up! I thought. After awhile we all either got used to the noise or relocated like the others. The next morning we ate donuts for breakfast and piled into our cars to meet up at the church again (I made sure to sit next to Chris) and share our stories of the first night, followed by another lengthy sermon and lunch. We decide to get a jumpstart on the scavenger hunt and speed away to the first destination. No matter what we try to get a picture of, Chris is trying to pull off some insane feat, weird pose, or funny face. Later that night, we return to the church for the final sermon of the day and a good rest back at Andy’s house. We all discuss the clever pictures we’ve taken with the whole group and the item in question. The next day, a Sunday, was the final day in the little retreat. We attend one more sermon, I’m not able to keep my eyes open after the last few days of all-nighters and fall asleep soon after the guest speaker starts. Once speech is over we head back to gather our bags and head home. The following Wednesday, we met back at our church to have a competition among the other groups and stage a vote to decide who has won the scavenger hunt. We win hands down and dance around while roaring with victory. Once everything is settled down we share revelations we had over the weekend. Chris, of course, is eager to tell everyone that he has decided to change his habits and accept Jesus into his heart. He hops up onto a chair and yells out the news. We all clap and congratulate him. My friends and I belong to a group we call the “Chocolate Squirrels” and after a little discussion we all agree that Chris would be a great addition to our posse. “EEEEEEKK” we all let out the scream we previously decided to be the official sound of the Squirrels. Chris gracefully accepts the induction and things just roll on from there. The 9th of April is Chris’s birthday, it happens to be a Wednesday just before then and a magician is in town doing a show at our church and we all go to watch. Tyler, Chris and I all sit together. During his performance he uses this odd puppet raccoon that he apparently sells along with other souvenirs. We all want one. Tyler buys Chris one for an early birthday present. Chris is extremely delighted. We spend the rest of the night playing with it. A couple of weeks later we are hanging out in a small group for discussion on what our youth pastor had been talking about. I just cannot control my laughter, neither can the guys. Not necessarily laughing at anything in particular, just laughing. Our small group leader, Dustin, is sick of it and separates us around the small room. Then Tyler lets out some bodily function and all hell breaks loose. There is no containing it. “That’s it! Get out of this room right now! I can’t deal with you any longer!” Dustin screams. Ironically enough, it wasn’t Tyler he was kicking out, but Chris, my friend Fred, and I. Can he really kick us out of church? It was the question on all of our minds. We decided to spend the rest of the time at church out at the newly built playground behind the church. We play on the swings and wrestle like elementary school children. “This is definitely more fun than any old discussion group!”After awhile Tyler came back out and told us that Dustin was going to go talk to our parents about how much of a distraction we were. “No biggie though, Wednesday is supposed to be the fun day anyways, Sunday is the serious day!” The next few weeks roll by and we meet up at the church for our Wednesday night worship. Most of the guys are in the church worship band and this naturally appeals to Chris. Soon he is in the band and a regular member of our church. Weeks go by and we grow closer together until soon summer rolls around. Church lightens up during the summer to allow for vacations and free time and becomes more of a recreational time than anything. Chris goes to spend the week with his mom and step-dad after getting in some trouble with his dad in Moore, so he makes the trip down to Ada. Meanwhile, life goes on as normal back in Moore. Tyler gets ready for a family vacation to San Antonio, Texas where he spent much of his time on the beach. It’s Friday, June 8th; I go to work and have to clean dishes for the night. I get a call from Andy but there is no time to answer it so I let him go to voicemail. After work I check the message. “Chris Carpenter spent the night in the hospital, he’s dead.” I laugh. There is no way this is true. On the drive home from work I hit a curb. I get home and park my car. My hand reaches for my cell phone and I call Andy. “You’re kidding right?” I asked, hoping for a yes, not even believing the answer could be no. “No it’s no joke. His mom called Scott, (our youth pastor) and he called all of us.” “Oh my god. I need to go.” “Yea I need to go to, I gotta try to stop crying.” The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. I couldn’t believe this. I walk into my house through the laundry room. My mom is there to greet me. “Mom, you remember Chris right?” “Yea, why?” “Andy just called and told me that he …..” I trail off in sobs. Talking about it makes it even more real. I spend the next couple of days in front of my computer on MySpace. Chris’s profile is on the screen with the song “Jesus Christ” by Brand New playing over, and over again. The initial police report, I find out, is that his parents were playing around with a knife and accidentally stabbed him. His step-father, an ex-highway patrolman, rushed him to the hospital but it was too late. I mourn for the next few days. Later on I find out that his mother’s statement is false and that they were actually having an argument and she pulled out the knife to go at Chris’s dad. My heart is filled with contempt. I want her to spend the rest of her life in prison. My mom and I go to the store to buy clothes for the funeral. Tyler sits on the beach in San Antonio, not able to enjoy the scenery or be with us during this time of great sadness. The 12th rolls around. It is 10 a.m. My mom and I get in the car and drive to the church. The whole ride is silent. We get to the church and I meet up with my friends who, in memorial, shaved their heads to match Chris’s recent haircut. We stand in a circle and share funny stories we’ve had. Ms. Merrel, Chris’s dad’s girlfriend, approaches us. “It’s great that ya’ll showed up for this. It would have really meant a lot to him.” It comes time for us to all enter the church, filling up the pews as we go. I get separated from my friends and end up sitting next to two people I don’t really know. Chris’s family enters and we all stand up to pay respects to the family. They all sit down and Scott proceeds. He says a few words and then sits down and a slide show commences. There are pictures that I recognize as well as some I don’t, slides pass of Chris as a baby. Tears start to form in the corners of my eyes. Then a friend of his stands up and sings “If I saw you in heaven”. Once the song is over, Scott expresses his sorrow for the family and explains to the entire group how just recently the family also lost their grandparents and that this tragedy is just part of a series that they have had to suffer recently. He then opens the floor to anyone who wants to speak about Chris. A couple of his friends from school stand up and tell about how great he was and how he was such a good friend. Then Ms. Merrel stands up and addresses the family. “I was so blessed to have been able to meet your son.” She muttered, hardly able to squeeze out any intelligible words through her sobs. After she is finished, Chris’s cousin stands up and approaches the microphone. Unable to contain his grief he breaks down and backs away to try and gather himself before speaking. A few more people speak before he is able to try again. He speaks about being kids and making mischief with Chris and always having fun no matter what they did. His brother gets up and describes their relationship. “While I was in training for the army, we used to talk on the phone. Chris would be so excited about learning a new song on the guitar and tried to prop the phone up to the guitar so I could hear. That’s just the close relationship that we had. But I think I will always regret not being nice enough to him.” A few more people stand up and share and then Scott stands up and ends the service. Two ushers stand up and open the casket in front. I see Chris there, arms crossed, wearing a blue and purple-striped, button-up shirt and a baseball cap. Seeing him laying there brings the realization that there is no way that he is coming back. For the first time, I realize that Chris really has passed. I have lost my friend at such a young age. Row by row, we stand up and form a procession, walking by the casket we take turns looking down on Chris and saying our final goodbyes. My turn comes by; as soon as I lay eyes up close I see the work the funeral home had to do on him to make him presentable. It seems so ungodly. I break down. My reserve finally falls apart and I can’t help but cry my heart out. I exit the main hall and meet up with my friends again. I see Mark there. It’s great that he is able to make the drive down to Claremore to say goodbye. I find my mom and tell her I can’t take it anymore. It’s time to go home. It is June 8th, 2008. I visit Chris’s grave. The tombstone has a picture of Chris in the middle, a younger Chris than I knew. He has braces but that same hat he was buried with. I sit next to that rock and weep for an unknown amount of time. I hear that his mother recently got out of jail. I no longer feel contempt for her. This has to be so much harder for her than it is for me. Now days, I try to spend my time on earth like he would. I try to take advantage of the time I have and live to the fullest. This loss comes as a realization that although most teens think they are invincible, they are not. Rest in Peace Christopher Scott Carpenter, April 9th 1990-June 8th 2007.
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