Circa 1967

A Letter to My Young Self

Dear Dan,

I hope this letter gets to you in time, Dan. I need you to do something that could change history. There is a crisis looming at your school and only you can prevent this tragedy.  In class tomorrow you’ll notice that Charlie doesn’t have a book and you’ll tell him “Hey Charlie, I know where you can get a used math book cheap!”

He’ll reply “Nah, that’s OK”  You’ll turn around in your seat and those will be your last words to him.

You see, tomorrow he’s going to park his van, take out a ’45 and blow his brains out. The bullet will not only rip through HIS brain but wound all that knew him. His mother and father will be numb. Time will heal their hearts some but only the grave or God can erase the gaping hole he left. Your classmates will mourn him and attend his funeral, but you are 18 and invincible! The next Friday you will be at the football game screaming for the team and enjoying the energy that is youth. The teenage angst that killed Charlie, the same you all feel, suppressed for awhile.

This virus (or angst) is carried by every teen. For some it is a cold or flu that lasts awhile and is gone. For others it is a nagging allergy that persists for life, and for some like Charlie it is fatal. There is no known cure but time.

This is what I want you to do, give him time! After class, look him straight in the eye and tell him you know what he is thinking! Tell him of the pain left behind and the waste of LIVES he has scorned! Reason with him! TELL HIM, DAN! TELL…. HIM!