Thoughts in the (Sleepless) Night, a Haunting

Sometimes I seriously wonder how my mind works. Last night, out of the blue, I started to think about Andy McQueen. He was among my oldest brother's best friends. I believe it was a target pistol he used to end his life in 1965, but frankly I think he would have found some way to kill himself that day. He suffered severe depression (and in my opinion he was probably bipolar).

When Andy was around it was OK for a 12 year old to hang out with the older boys. After he left to go home it was time for me to disappear into my own room. He was the first person I met that had genuine charisma, everyone liked Andy. Like my brothers and me he was a member of Explorer Post 20. We specialized in running rivers. In 1965 we ran the Middle Fork of the Salmon River. But the McQueens had just moved to the valley and needed Andy's help to settle the family in their new home. So he could not join us.

The Middle Fork is in Idaho. It took us 3 days to drive up in our World War Two era bus and 2 &1/2 ton army surplus truck. After we ran the river (an eight day adventure) "Stretch", an adult advisor, called home to say we had run the river safely. After the call the advisers had a conference and announced that we were going to drive home via Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons. As we approached Jackson Hole, Wyoming we turned to drive east on a rugged road to a church in the middle of nowhere, a minor tourist destination in itself. The church had a huge picture window with a fabulous view of the Grand Tetons.

As we got out of the bus the advisers told us about the suicide. Among the 25 or so boys there were three general reactions: anger, sorrow, and bewilderment, which was my reaction. (I have to admit suicide still bewilders me, even though I have known about a dozen people personally that have made that "choice".) I am sure there was not a dry eye among the boys. We spent about an hour at the little church with each boy consumed with his own thoughts. The rest of the trip was very quiet.

But this is really about a haunting. Every so often his suicide invades my mind and I can not get rid of it for weeks. And of course, I replay each and every other suicide of people I have known. But the only other one I would blog about, was the father of a good high school friend of mine. What makes that one so interesting is that her mother remarried about 5 years later to the mayor of Albuquerque. I will never blog about Scott's suicide because I do not plan on ever forgiving him. Welcome to my haunting.