Mark Smith

I remember vividly Mike Hartley's funeral. The grieving family was stunned by his unpredictable, handgun suicide. HIs mother made a terribly emotional scene when she threw herself over the casket as they were trying to roll it back into the wall of the D.O. McComb Funeral Home on Lake Avenue. As officers from Mike's Junior class at South Side High School, we were shocked by the horrible anguish of a mother's refusal to let go of her son.The  sounds of her sobbing must still fill that room.

We were amazed that death had claimed one of our own, someone we had been friends with since Harrison Hill Elementary School. Mike had seemed happy in his home on Indiana Avenue. Suddenly, he was gone. We couldn't imagine why he had taken his own life. Sure, school was a social and academic obstacle course. We were all having trouble fitting in. But life was fun and the summer of love was about to change everything.

His death left each of us a little less invincible.

And then there was another suicide funeral to attend.