Tonight I went to a bar. With my mom. Before you say “ew,” allow me to explain.
Back in the ancient days, when I was in high school, a kid named Sid Ronk became my friend through the drama department at W.E. Boswell high school. Sid was at the time a big guy who could act well. For my birthday, he gave me an atlas. I don’t fully understand why, but he did. I liked him as a friend, but afterwards, when I went off to college, I lost track of him.
It turns out he had a rough-and-tumble time of it after high school, but he did okay. He worked as a bartender and as security for a couple of Ft. Worth bars, lastly and most notably Billy Bob’s, where I went with my mom this evening.
It was for a memorial gathering for Sid. He passed away on the 15th. There are rumors about what caused his death, but I’ve got nothing to substantiate them. I don’t know why he died, but he did. I think it’s out of guilt that I went, because off and on he’d been on my mind as someone I should try to catch up with. However, I didn’t. I didn’t make that effort. I didn’t take the time. And now I can’t.
I heard stories from friends, co-workers, former girlfriends…. everyone extolled the virtues of Sid. Even Donnie Franks stopped by to pay some “yaknowhaImsayin” respects. Sid cared, and I missed that part of his life.
Why, oh why, does it take a death for us to remember to live?
Sid was a great kid when I knew him in high school. I was a senior when he was a freshman and I remember him as a gentle giant. My fondest memory of him was him and I spending a week in SAC (in school suspension) for alcohol on campus for a Valentine’s Day dance in the FAC. From what I understand he passed away from diabetes. It’s a sad day in the world without someone like Sid. He will be missed.