Spring Break
Editorial: In remembrance
David Thill
Issue date: 6/4/09 Section: Opinions
I remember the first time I met Andrew Galo very clearly.
I walked into my friend Miles' apartment, as I had so many times before, and there on the couch sat this guy, wearing gigantic headphones over a wool cap simply bobbing his head up and down, contently wrapped up in his musical world, oblivious to the rest of the world around him.
Before I had the chance to even ask Miles the fellow's name, Andrew's eyes shot open, and he caught me looking at him oddly. Quickly he jumped up and yelled, "What's up, bro?" as though we had known each other our whole lives.
Over the next several months, Andrew, like myself, became a nearly nightly fixture in Miles' apartment.
I thought him to be odd at first. He spoke with an accent that was an odd blend of one who was born in the Ukraine and raised in a Chicago suburb.
His laugh was loud and infectious, his smile seemingly permanently fixed to his face. He was never to be seen without his trademark hooded-sweatshirt, beanie cap and hilariously large headphones.
He was a rabid fan of the Chicago White Sox and Bulls. When his beloved hockey team won, he could be heard screaming, "Hawks win!!!" virtually down the street.
As reported by The Daily Eastern News last week, Andrew died in a car accident near Waukegan.
He was my friend. He was a friend to anyone he met. I don't think I ever heard him even mention not liking someone.
And, just as it happens all-too-often to too many young people, he was gone.
I did not know Cameron Chana or Justin Sleezer, who passed away this past week, nor did I know the three foreign exchange students that died in an accident near St. Louis this past semester. Undoubtedly, though, they were all someone's friend, someone's son or daughter.
It is never easy when a life is cut tragically short. It isn't the way life is intended to be. Flowers aren't meant to be cut down before they blossom. 'The End' should be read at the end of the book, not right after the introduction.
But that is the painfully sad reality for Andrew, Cameron, Justin and so many others.
Those who knew them are forced to suddenly grow accustom to a life without them.
It is impossible to brace for the accidental death of a loved one. How can one prepare for something that comes flying around a blind corner? How do we cope, when one day we are talking to them about our plans for next week, next month, next year and they are suddenly no longer there?
We can only remember them and how they lived, never forgetting how important they are to us and knowing that no one can take memories away.
So, please, hug your loved ones. Give them a high-five or make sure you do that silly secret handshake only the two of you know. Make certain to make the most of your time with anyone and everyone you care about.
I'm going to put my headphones on, just like Andrew would, and wait for hockey season just so I can close my eyes and hear him again, as always and forever, screaming "Hawks win!"
David Thill is a senior journalism major. He can be reached at 581-7942 or at DENopinions@gmail.com.
I walked into my friend Miles' apartment, as I had so many times before, and there on the couch sat this guy, wearing gigantic headphones over a wool cap simply bobbing his head up and down, contently wrapped up in his musical world, oblivious to the rest of the world around him.
Before I had the chance to even ask Miles the fellow's name, Andrew's eyes shot open, and he caught me looking at him oddly. Quickly he jumped up and yelled, "What's up, bro?" as though we had known each other our whole lives.
Over the next several months, Andrew, like myself, became a nearly nightly fixture in Miles' apartment.
I thought him to be odd at first. He spoke with an accent that was an odd blend of one who was born in the Ukraine and raised in a Chicago suburb.
His laugh was loud and infectious, his smile seemingly permanently fixed to his face. He was never to be seen without his trademark hooded-sweatshirt, beanie cap and hilariously large headphones.
He was a rabid fan of the Chicago White Sox and Bulls. When his beloved hockey team won, he could be heard screaming, "Hawks win!!!" virtually down the street.
As reported by The Daily Eastern News last week, Andrew died in a car accident near Waukegan.
He was my friend. He was a friend to anyone he met. I don't think I ever heard him even mention not liking someone.
And, just as it happens all-too-often to too many young people, he was gone.
I did not know Cameron Chana or Justin Sleezer, who passed away this past week, nor did I know the three foreign exchange students that died in an accident near St. Louis this past semester. Undoubtedly, though, they were all someone's friend, someone's son or daughter.
It is never easy when a life is cut tragically short. It isn't the way life is intended to be. Flowers aren't meant to be cut down before they blossom. 'The End' should be read at the end of the book, not right after the introduction.
But that is the painfully sad reality for Andrew, Cameron, Justin and so many others.
Those who knew them are forced to suddenly grow accustom to a life without them.
It is impossible to brace for the accidental death of a loved one. How can one prepare for something that comes flying around a blind corner? How do we cope, when one day we are talking to them about our plans for next week, next month, next year and they are suddenly no longer there?
We can only remember them and how they lived, never forgetting how important they are to us and knowing that no one can take memories away.
So, please, hug your loved ones. Give them a high-five or make sure you do that silly secret handshake only the two of you know. Make certain to make the most of your time with anyone and everyone you care about.
I'm going to put my headphones on, just like Andrew would, and wait for hockey season just so I can close my eyes and hear him again, as always and forever, screaming "Hawks win!"
David Thill is a senior journalism major. He can be reached at 581-7942 or at DENopinions@gmail.com.
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