Today, a friend on Facebook (and fellow high school classmate) posted a birthday message to another classmate, that I will call “Toby” for this post. Lots of people “liked” this post and left comments about how funny “Toby” was and how he was such a great guy. All this outpouring of love for this long dead guy angered me. I really had to resist the urge to post a blunt and unflattering comment (that surely would have gotten me condemned by everyone).
“Toby” was killed in 1993. He had become a North Carolina State Trooper after graduation. During a routine stop on the interstate his vehicle was plowed into from behind by a semi driven by a guy who was hopped up on drugs. Needless to say, he was killed … and then lionized because he was a trooper and was killed while on duty.
See … I remember “Toby” too. Only I don’t remember him as the “Funny Guy” or “Good Guy” or “Valiant State Trooper.”
He was the person I wanted to avoid every day of junior high and high school. I remember him as the guy who would call me names and say mean things. I remember him as the guy who occasionally would hit me for no reason. I remember him as the guy who would grab my things and not give them back or break them. “Toby” was the guy who bullied me. When we graduated, it was a great relief to know that I would never have to see or deal with him ever again.
Fast forward 20+ years and it’s still hard for me to feel that there was anything good or redeeming about him. It was tempting to tell people that today … to tell them that “the guy you remember so fondly was a mean person that did harm to others for no reason other than he could.”
I know people change and maybe he did. I sure hope he did and didn’t make life miserable for other people.
I hear you, Chaz. I have plenty of “Tobys” in my past. I’ve fantasized about approaching some of them to let them know what a living hell they made my life. But I never have and I likely never will. And even sympathetic friends can’t believe that I still drag some of that junk around with me today. I like to think that these bullies did wise up, and that they understand the effect their past behaviour has had and that they regret it. But they probably don’t and they likely never will. Take the high road, like you did by not posting your comments on Facebook for his family and friends to see, but also take some satisfaction in knowing that there are a lot of us out there who share the same experience.
Thanks, Dave … and BIG HUGS for you!
I’ve actually confronted two or three Tody’s in my adult life. It’s not considered cool to go all schadenfreude, but I do it anyway. It is ironic that no one want’s to tell the truth about the deceased. I’m glad you did.
Just today ran across this. And, too, know this late and un-great dipshit. Some people are born with defects of humanity, and he was indeed one of them. I am quite sure he became a Trooper because it allowed him a legal avenue to become an adult bully, and continue his defective life up until the karama-giggling end. I have little doubt that he was probably being a huge dick to whomever he had pulled over that day (simply because he knew he could be).
They say that people can change, but I doubt he ever had any reason or motivation to want to do so. And that’s just who he was.
The reason people heap praise on him after his death is simply that they are putting on a show of being nice or good, no matter what they thought of him in reality. And a great many of those folks probably found vicarious jollies in his being a bully and bastard. They probably too timid or self-aware (or maybe even, deep down, struggling to be a good person, and found his antics to be unsavory, but feared becoming a future target of his by standing up for what was right.)
So, no RIP needed. Some people are just 20 pounds of douche in a 10 pound bag. And, he is a prime example of karma never letting you off the hook.