Remembering a school, a classmate, a life lost

There was something very special about my high school. It began in the mid-’60s and pulled students from several different areas that were narrowly defined as economically diverse. It was the combustible energy that forged unification, led by a strong leadership team and competent staff and students eager to have a go at creating a new school.

Recently, in The Baltimore Sun, there was an article about the murder of a homeless man (“‘He was somebody’: Friends of homeless man shot to death in Essex last week remember his life,” Nov. 17). So typical of Baltimore’s daily news, it was hard to discern if it was just another obituary, crime feature or an expression of the endearing and lasting relationships with friends. The victim was a graduate of my high school. His mother had died of cancer while he was in school and his father had a fatal heart attack at her funeral. A tragic life followed, but so did the friendships he had formed in those high school years so long ago.

While so many of the social programs designed to support the downtrodden failed, the friendships were a sustaining force that accompanied him through the perils of his life. Neighbors of the homeless man gathered on the street corner to honor him along with an intrepid group of high school friends who wanted to honor the memory of a young friend who loved music, playing pool in his basement and gathering with friends. His life had meaning and it was up to them to acknowledge it.

— Jane Gordon, Timonium