Irrelevant Cheetah

I left my last job in February of this year because, to put it simply, the evil, greedy, soul-sucking Corporation had decided that my position was no longer necessary. It wasn’t as much of a blow as you’d think, since I was trying desperately to leave anyway, and I never held any ill-will towards my fellow workers. Even my boss, Jim, (whom I once sold on eBay) was ultimately only following the directions of the shareholders to cut costs and make more money.

As time went on, I kept planning to go visit my previous workplace and see everybody, some of whom I had, after three years, gotten to be pretty good friends with. But, of course, everyday life got in the way, and I still haven’t made it back there to visit.  

Yesterday afternoon I got a call from a former co-worker, who was laid off a few months before I was. She has kept in better contact with our former workplace, and she had some news for me.

It seems Jim (my previous boss) and his wife attended a party this past Saturday night. Among the people there was a man named Tony, who has worked with Jim for over ten years. Apparently, Tony has always had a bit of an anger problem, and these issues are exacerbated when he’s drinking.

About 1:00 Sunday morning, Tony expressed a desire to drive home. Jim, however, told Tony that it was a bad idea, since Tony had been drinking heavily. Tony didn’t like that, and he and Jim got into a heated argument in the kitchen, which then turned into a full blown fight. At some point, Tony put Jim into a choke-hold, and the two of them crashed through the railing on the back porch and landed in the yard.

They finally managed to peel Tony off of Jim, and Jim hit the ground, no longer breathing. While his wife called the police, another party-goer performed CPR, but was unable to revive him. Jim was pronounced dead at 2:00 Sunday morning.

He left behind a wife and four children, and he died because he was trying to do the right thing.

I can’t eulogize him; nor would I presume to try. I didn’t know him well enough. Rather, I’m sitting here in this shell of silent shock that normally surrounds people after they hear of a death, and I’m trying to gauge my own reaction. It’s a hodgepodge of thoughts that don’t really seem to follow any particular thread.

Was it senseless? Sure.

His wife watched him die, and now she’s probably trying to figure out how to spend the rest of her life without him.

He was well-liked, and he will be missed.

I never got around to see him in the past seven months, and though we weren’t close friends, his death still bothers me quite a bit.

Funerals are no fun.

Another friend of mine was murdered several years ago, and after that experience, I thought, “Well, that’ll never happen again.” Ha!

I wish I had some moral to the story or some gem of wisdom to share, but I don’t. It just sucks.