Friend's death hard to handle

It's just not the way you want to be reunited with some high school buddies. Not when you have to say good-bye to a friend taken from us way too soon.

More than 11 years had passed since the Joliet Catholic Class of 1993 gathered in St. Raymond's Cathedral. On that day, Jason Shelton received his diploma. On Nov. 29, 2004, Jason was laid to rest.

As the result of a fatal work accident the day before Thanksgiving, Jason left this world that he made better by being here. I had lost touch with him through the years, but from the tears shed by hundreds paying their last respects and compilations of pictures, I soon remembered the person he was and the lives he so positively affected.

I won't pretend that I suffered the same loss as did Jason's closest friends and my classmates, like Joe Furlane, Josh Vallera, Tom Lopez, Jason Hill, Bob Dockendorf, Joe Butscher and John Delrose. I didn't think the first time I would see that group together again would be with tears running down our faces, tears I'd never seen from them before.

They were among his best friends who evolved from thrill-seeking teenagers into grown men with new families, careers and homes, sharing in each other's joys and successes. But even the toughest athlete or strongest man can't hold back sorrow when a genuinely good person leaves us.

Like John Delrose said to me, "He (Jason) never said a bad word about anyone."

John went on to tell me that some friends had planned on gathering at Jason's house the night before Thanksgiving. Instead of gathering at a bar, Jason had invited his friends to his home.

"We still went there after we found out. There were drinks and food all ready for us," Delrose said.

Even up until the very end, Jason had taken care of his friends.

Often, people claim to understand what others go through when they suffer the tragic loss of a loved one. But unless we've truly experienced something this unfortunate, we can't relate. I've never lost someone very close to me aside from elderly friends or family or others who were quite ill. My deepest sympathies and prayers go out to all of Jason's friends and family.

Seeing Jason's young wife, Melissa, his bride of just more than two years, struggling to simply stand in the midst of his passing is something for which you can't prepare.

As Pastor Gavin said in his reflection of Jason, "We all wonder why."

Why someone so young, just 29 years old, with a bright future? No theologian or anyone else has the answers.

My memories of Jason are of his infectious laugh. It always seemed to come at just the right time. When silence would fall, Jason's boyish giggle would radiate and serve as a chain reaction for whoever was around. I imagine he kept up his sense of humor as he got older, while also remaining close with the people he made laugh his entire life.

Since I was useless when it came to cars and electronics, barely figuring out how to pop the hood and turn on a Walk-man, in high school, Jason and Joe Furlane helped install a stereo and huge speakers in my car, a 1988 Pontiac Lemans.

Looking back, I did more standing around than helping, I guess. Jason and Joe tried showing me what to do in case I might have wanted to try it on my own some day, but they knew such a phenomenon would never happen.

A week or so after Jason's services, I received a card from his wife, Melissa, thanking me for my love and support during their trying time. I didn't talk with her at the wake, for she was overcome with sorrow and despair of which I still can't fathom; but Melissa gathered herself enough to write and tell me, someone she'd never met, thank you.

You're so very welcome, Melissa. And thank you for being in Jason's life.

Scott Deininger is a stand-up comedian from Shorewood. His work can be found via his Web site, www.ShaveYourHead.com

01/16/05