I just got done reading a book, and I want to tell you a story about someone I knew in college. His name was Will and he was devastatingly handsome. He was also incredibly funny and smart. Will was working on his Master’s Degree, I am not sure in what, it seems like it was soils but I think I had him in a basic soils class so that could not have been it. I remember him mixing chemicals in an Erlenmeyer Flask, and he made a comment about it being like mixing martinis.

 

I took a fall semester off of college to work. When I came back to school there was a framed photo of Will in the hall. A memorial. He had died that summer in a drunk driving accident on the Reservation. It still makes me feel awful.

 

My first summer in college I had lived on this reservation; working for a farmer. I knew the tiny town Will had lived in, I knew the roads, I immediately knew which curve he was on when he had died.

 

I just finished Sherman Alexie’s The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian. It has been a long time since I laughed and cried so hard over a book. Probably it was Red Sky at Morning by Bradford. It just reminded me of Will. I don’t know how many people from college think about Will, but I still do from time to time.

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