The one thing I remember most about John was that sophomore year through senior year we shared homeroom. I also remember the rumor about John and the Page Pirates stadium. He was fun loving and a great person to know. We will miss him.
John and I swam on the Starmount Swim team together for years. He was a good friend. Funny as hell. His life, like Mike, Ashley, Crystal & Stephanie Badgett too, was too short.
John milked every situation for every ounce of humor. From Kiser and Grimsley to FBC, the guy loved to laugh, was funny as hell, and never ceased to make the most of it. The Junior yearbook group photos with the guys in all the club pictures posed with hands over hearts or on chins still crack me up. I remember thinking when he passed away that future reunions wouldn't be the same without him.
The same can be said for all our missing classmates.
I have thought about posting something here for a while, but didn’t really know if I could say anything that would be sufficient. John was my best friend in high school. He and I did practically everything together- we played basketball, searched for hookers on Greensboro’s mean streets, painted Page, and a few other things that the statute of limitations may not have run out on yet. We talked about life, relationships, the future, sports, and even who should get the last can of Coke at each other’s homes (It was decided that the visitor should. It wasn’t always honored, though).
While the stories of his outlandish behavior and fun-loving nature are legend, few people knew that he was a caring and thoughtful friend. The example that sticks in my mind is the night of our graduation. I had cut class and goofed off so much that I didn’t even get to walk. At the time, I thought it was a really big deal. I was miserable. John came straight from the ceremony to my house and insisted that I join him and others at Colin Moran’s house to celebrate. I would have rather completed an entire year’s worth of Larry Williamson’s dreaded history ID’s than have gone to that party. But John (and Susan Weber’s) kindness that evening provided a memory for me more cherished than any cap and gown event.
After his death, I read every book on grieving that I could find. I thought most of it was BS (maybe I was just in the anger stage, who knows). The one thing I read that made sense to me was this- losing someone really close to you is like losing an arm or a leg. You never really get over it, you just learn to adjust. At most large, and sometimes small, events in my life, I find myself wishing John could be there. Regardless of where our next meeting might take place, the last Coke will be his.
I feel compelled to put something in this section of our website, although, like Bubba, I doubt anything I could write would be remotely sufficient. As I have looked through old boxes in the attic, finding pictures and letters and yearbooks from my time at Grimsley in anticipation of our reunion, I have found myself doing much laughing and crying (my kids and my wonderful husband think I am finally going over the edge...which the kids would be OK with as long as there were still juice boxes in the fridge).
John is on almost every page of my high school photo album, and of course I saved just about every note he ever wrote. I have found words like "fresh," and phrases like "I'm the Daddy" echoing in my head in a voice I have not heard in years. I still wonder what he would be doing and where he would be, and I still miss his caustic humor and ability to make me laugh. He was also sweet, and tender, and (believe it or not) a really good listener. I know he would have gone on (like so many of our classmates have) and done some amazing things. He was a unique person with many gifts to offer, and I wish he could be here for our twentieth reunion (although you know he and Bubba would be sitting to the side cracking on most of us...).
He wrote me a letter once (while he was exiled in ISS - can't remember what for) saying that he would really have liked to hang out with Caesar (because Caesar sounded like he was so 'fresh'). I like to think that John is somewhere happily carousing with Caesar and any others he has deemed cool enough to hang out with him!
My friendship with John started with some yellow watermelon. I'd never eaten or much less heard of yellow watermelon, but then again I'd never met anyone quite like John. Starting Grimsley, I'd known John for years without really getting to know him. Then John moved just around the corner from me. One random weekend afternoon I was driving home and on a whim I decided to pull into his driveway and knock on the door. John was there with a few friends about to watch some pro wrestling and eat yellow watermelon. John invited me to join them and since I was half the size of most of the guys there I obliged by allowing myself to be piledriven mercilessly for the rest of the evening. Ah, the makings of a fast friendship. Before I left, John had anointed me "Stinger" and I wore the nickname as a badge of honor throughout my high school years. That for me was the magic that John possessed - the ability to create a movement (see "Freshness", "The Horsemen", using a high-pitched voice to indicate sarcasm, et al) with just a simple turn of phrase. John had one of those rare "contagious" personalities that just made an immediate impression. It was impossible not to notice much less to forget who he was. He stood out in the crowd not because of his height, his loud voice, or his madcap antics. John stood out because people knew that there was an implicit meaning to his madness in that he wanted YOU to be part of it. It wasn't about him getting noticed or clamoring for attention. It was about us, his desire to inspire the people around him to live and laugh and enjoy each moment, and that's why we remember John so fondly.
John had a significant impact on my life and I think of him often. I know that, to most, John was a gregarious, high energy guy; a person who made you laugh. For me, John was the boy who challenged me in English class - the boy who said "you cannot possibly believe THAT!" when we talked about religious beliefs and transcendentalism as I acted out my teenage angst. He made me think - made me defend my positions. I respected him and he respected me. I miss him - I often wish I could have gotten to know him as an adult. I am sure we would have been friends.
John, I hope you are enjoying challenging those Latin and Greek philosophers...
Angela Morene (Calloway)
The one thing I remember most about John was that sophomore year through senior year we shared homeroom. I also remember the rumor about John and the Page Pirates stadium. He was fun loving and a great person to know. We will miss him.Regan Forman
John and I swam on the Starmount Swim team together for years. He was a good friend. Funny as hell. His life, like Mike, Ashley, Crystal & Stephanie Badgett too, was too short.Hilary Karen Wilson (Wilson)
John milked every situation for every ounce of humor. From Kiser and Grimsley to FBC, the guy loved to laugh, was funny as hell, and never ceased to make the most of it. The Junior yearbook group photos with the guys in all the club pictures posed with hands over hearts or on chins still crack me up. I remember thinking when he passed away that future reunions wouldn't be the same without him.The same can be said for all our missing classmates.
Will Sykes
I have thought about posting something here for a while, but didn’t really know if I could say anything that would be sufficient. John was my best friend in high school. He and I did practically everything together- we played basketball, searched for hookers on Greensboro’s mean streets, painted Page, and a few other things that the statute of limitations may not have run out on yet. We talked about life, relationships, the future, sports, and even who should get the last can of Coke at each other’s homes (It was decided that the visitor should. It wasn’t always honored, though).While the stories of his outlandish behavior and fun-loving nature are legend, few people knew that he was a caring and thoughtful friend. The example that sticks in my mind is the night of our graduation. I had cut class and goofed off so much that I didn’t even get to walk. At the time, I thought it was a really big deal. I was miserable. John came straight from the ceremony to my house and insisted that I join him and others at Colin Moran’s house to celebrate. I would have rather completed an entire year’s worth of Larry Williamson’s dreaded history ID’s than have gone to that party. But John (and Susan Weber’s) kindness that evening provided a memory for me more cherished than any cap and gown event.
After his death, I read every book on grieving that I could find. I thought most of it was BS (maybe I was just in the anger stage, who knows). The one thing I read that made sense to me was this- losing someone really close to you is like losing an arm or a leg. You never really get over it, you just learn to adjust. At most large, and sometimes small, events in my life, I find myself wishing John could be there. Regardless of where our next meeting might take place, the last Coke will be his.
Susan Weber (Keller)
I feel compelled to put something in this section of our website, although, like Bubba, I doubt anything I could write would be remotely sufficient. As I have looked through old boxes in the attic, finding pictures and letters and yearbooks from my time at Grimsley in anticipation of our reunion, I have found myself doing much laughing and crying (my kids and my wonderful husband think I am finally going over the edge...which the kids would be OK with as long as there were still juice boxes in the fridge).John is on almost every page of my high school photo album, and of course I saved just about every note he ever wrote. I have found words like "fresh," and phrases like "I'm the Daddy" echoing in my head in a voice I have not heard in years. I still wonder what he would be doing and where he would be, and I still miss his caustic humor and ability to make me laugh. He was also sweet, and tender, and (believe it or not) a really good listener. I know he would have gone on (like so many of our classmates have) and done some amazing things. He was a unique person with many gifts to offer, and I wish he could be here for our twentieth reunion (although you know he and Bubba would be sitting to the side cracking on most of us...).
He wrote me a letter once (while he was exiled in ISS - can't remember what for) saying that he would really have liked to hang out with Caesar (because Caesar sounded like he was so 'fresh'). I like to think that John is somewhere happily carousing with Caesar and any others he has deemed cool enough to hang out with him!
Brian Kaiser
My friendship with John started with some yellow watermelon. I'd never eaten or much less heard of yellow watermelon, but then again I'd never met anyone quite like John. Starting Grimsley, I'd known John for years without really getting to know him. Then John moved just around the corner from me. One random weekend afternoon I was driving home and on a whim I decided to pull into his driveway and knock on the door. John was there with a few friends about to watch some pro wrestling and eat yellow watermelon. John invited me to join them and since I was half the size of most of the guys there I obliged by allowing myself to be piledriven mercilessly for the rest of the evening. Ah, the makings of a fast friendship. Before I left, John had anointed me "Stinger" and I wore the nickname as a badge of honor throughout my high school years. That for me was the magic that John possessed - the ability to create a movement (see "Freshness", "The Horsemen", using a high-pitched voice to indicate sarcasm, et al) with just a simple turn of phrase. John had one of those rare "contagious" personalities that just made an immediate impression. It was impossible not to notice much less to forget who he was. He stood out in the crowd not because of his height, his loud voice, or his madcap antics. John stood out because people knew that there was an implicit meaning to his madness in that he wanted YOU to be part of it. It wasn't about him getting noticed or clamoring for attention. It was about us, his desire to inspire the people around him to live and laugh and enjoy each moment, and that's why we remember John so fondly.Eleanor Blair Benson
John had a significant impact on my life and I think of him often. I know that, to most, John was a gregarious, high energy guy; a person who made you laugh. For me, John was the boy who challenged me in English class - the boy who said "you cannot possibly believe THAT!" when we talked about religious beliefs and transcendentalism as I acted out my teenage angst. He made me think - made me defend my positions. I respected him and he respected me. I miss him - I often wish I could have gotten to know him as an adult. I am sure we would have been friends.John, I hope you are enjoying challenging those Latin and Greek philosophers...