(no subject)
Kolski.
Kolski was my very first friend at IU. The weekend before classes
started freshman year, I was sitting in my dorm room playing on my
computer with the door open, and Kolski came and asked if I wanted to
go a party. He, Clint, Skiba, and I walked to his girlfriend's house
on 10th street. That night, I drank beer for the first time, played
(and won) my first games of beer pong, got drunk for the first time,
played my first game of Kings, and later threw up for the first time
from drinking. I remember Dave later telling me his first impression
of me: "Oh god another asshole freshman who doesn't know how to handle
his alcohol." I can't say he was wrong.
I imagine a lot of people have stories about Kolski like this. The
details will vary, but I think the gist of it totally describes what I
think of Kolski. He was just a genuinly friendly guy. He wanted to
be friends with everyone, and for that reason, the reverse was true.
When I think about, and especially reading people's comments on
facebook, it occured to me that people are proud to know. I don't
think this is a recent phenomenon. I somehow thought better of myself
because I knew Kolski so well, like it was a badge of honor of some
sort. The thing is, there were so many poeple who felt the same way,
and I think that is a consequence of his amazing personality.
He was such a fun guy. If he invited you to go do something, you knew
you were going to have a good time. And the opposite was true. It
didn't matter who you were, you could call him up and he would be
there. And while a lot of our stories involve parties and drinking
and debauchery, that wasn't nearly the whole story. Maybe it was the
most public, but I think anybody who knew him knew it wasn't that
simple.
I have a lot to be thankful to Kolski for. That first night freshman
year was only the beginning of a really great friendship. Just to
name a few quite memorable things: Kolski would often take us to Lake
Griffey to use a secret rope swing; Kolski, Clint and I went to a
haunted cemetary with a couple girls (I was the 5th wheel there, but
he didn't care); after a particular long night of drinking, he kept
his promise and ran the Hoosiers Outrun Cancer 5k. Even though he
threw-up while coming into the stadium, he never stopped, and I'm
pretty sure he beat a guy dressed as a hamburger, which he was quite
proud of. I can't possible list everything, partly because it would
take forever, but also because writing this is hard enough as it is.
Oh well, here goes.
On somewhat short notice, Kolski and I decided to drive nonstop to
Arizona to watch the IU football team play in the first bowl game in
who knows how many years. We got my cousin Alex to go, who was a meer
freshman (we were seniors at the time), and he didn't like beer yet.
That never mattered to Kolski, he was simply happy to have more people
along to have fun with. And the trip was awesome. Just a few guys
driving across the country and having fun.
The summer before my senior year, I talked Kolski into doing a 100
mile all-night relay (it didn't take much convincing, he was in as
soon as I told him about it). We started seriously training for it,
and there was one night that I'll always remember. We decided to run
the first 6 miles of the race round trip. At midnight. We started
near the soccer stadium and headed towards Lake Griffey and out into
these country roads with some ridiculous roads. Since it was after
midnight, Kolski had on his camping headlamp, and we both had bicycle
lights clipped onto the back of our shorts so cars could see us from
behind. At one point we went down this incredibly steep hill. It's
kind of clunky when running downhill, and both of our bicycle lights
fell off. The hill was so steep that they rolled down the hill faster
than we were running. That run was very, very difficult for both of
us, but one thing that helped was Kolski yelling cadences. I don't
know where her learned them, and honestly I thought it was a stupid
idea, but about halfway through I was asking Kolski to do them again.
At dinner tonight Amanda and I were telling each other stories about
Kolski. She told me how one time she has a really crappy day, and
Kolski said to get in the car and they'll just drive. They drove all
over Bloomington and then eventually parked and sat outside for a
while and talked. It was a side of Kolski she had never seen before,
a side where Kolski wasn't just a drinking buddy. He really cared
about all of us, and he could help in anyway he could.
The last couple days have been very difficult. I've cried, and I'm
sure I will some more. This morning I rode my bike to work, and it
was very strange. It was like I was floating on the trail; I kind of
recognized it while it was happening, and it was simply because my
mind was somewhere else. When I got to work, it didn't get any
better. I was distract all day while I frequently refreshed the
obituaries page of the Elkhart newspaper. I finally found a short
article that was based on the police report and Kolski's facebook
page, which obviously didn't do his life any justice. After reading
the short description of what happend, I regretted even looking for
it, but then I read it two or three more times hoping to pick up some
detail I didn't before. There was nothing. It's killing me to not
know about the circumstance around what happened, but I realize that
I'll have to be patient. That doesn't really make it easier. I
couldn't concentrat on anything at work. Somehow I managed to get
some work done, but by own estimate, it took me eight hours to do
something that normally would have taken two. I just tried to focus,
but I couldn't do it. As soon as I could leave I got out of there and
headed home.
It was on my ride home that I think this essay/journal entry started
to get written in my head. I'm hoping that it will help organize my
thoughts and feelings, but I found the more I thought about it the
sadder I got. It was about 90 degrees today, and as I wiped the
moisture from my face and my eyes, I honestly couldn't tell you how
much was sweat and how much was tears. On my way home, there are
three major hills that I have to go up, and the last one is the worst.
As I was riding up that final hill, it was like Kolski was with me
yelling cadences, helping me overcome this hill. It's not like this
was my first time doing it, but I felt like I really needed his help
today.
I sit at a desk all day, and usually I'll listen to my ipod. I've
notice before whenever someone dies, you become hypersensitive to
death in all kinds of media. Like you'll be watching a TV show and
someone will die. It hits you in your heart. It seemed like today,
every song I heard became relavant. I've never noticed it this bad
until today, and I think the immediacy of it all is the main reason.
In the past when my loved ones died, it was after a long battle with
an illness, or at least they were much older and lived a lifetime. I
think that's part of what makes this especially difficult.
After I ride my bike I take a bus the rest of the way home. On my
ipod, I listened to "I Will Follow You Into the Dark" by Death Cab for
Cutie. Now, it's an incredibly sad song to begin with, but it
reminded me of when I played this song with Kolski. I had learned how
to play it on guitar, and I got Kolski to come up with something on
cello to along with it. It was absolutely beautiful. We only played
it couple times, but I swear to God I still know how the cello parts
goes in the song.
Kolski was such a nice guy. Everybody will testify to that. He
really would do anything for you, and he did all the time. He is
responsible for so many of the things I got out of college: the
friends, the stories, the experiences. I've started to think of him
as the spokes of the wheel because of the way he connected me to many
other great people, to my best friends. He never wanted to hurt
anybody, and he was the heart of the atmosphere when we lived
together. I always was proud to know the people who came over, and
how we had fun just for the sake of having fun. We obviously drank a
lot, but always felt that our house was a safe house to do it in. You
never had to worry about any creeps. I think we can thank Kolski for
a big part of that.
So I don't know. I feel like I'm forgetting some things I wanted to
say, but that will come out at the funeral. I've found that I have a
hard time talking about Kolski without getting choked up. It's easier
for me to write it down; maybe I'll be able to handle it better later
on.
Kolski, I love you man, and I miss you.
I didn't proofread this or anything, so sorry for the mistakes. I don't plan on rereading it.