I sat on my computer in the newsroom, with my childhood friend’s face staring back at me, the first time I had seen it practically since the 8th grade. There he was dead at 25, one of 49 who died during the assault of the Pulse gay nightclub in Orlando this weekend.
It was a lot to take. I closed my eyes and my mind wandered. I last saw him laughing and walking down the hallway on the 8th grade hall with his parents as we left our middle school graduation ceremony. That too was an emotional moment. Friends said goodbye and the excitement of high school hung near. Tevin Crosby and I had a brief nod to each and parted ways, rarely seeing him again, unfortunately, until this weekend.
He died in that hate-filled assault in Florida, the most successful Islamic terror attack on U.S. soil since September 11, 2001.
As the news continued to swirl, I saw more memories of Tevin, in my mind and on social media. One thing was consistent: he was smiling. Friends from my small hometown of Statesville, N.C., shared similar memories. One friend, who worked with Tevin at McDonald’s in high school recalled him as the “sweetest person ever.” As news spread on social media, other friends remembered Tevin in different ways: his wit, his friendliness, his loyalty. All of these rang true.
I finally got enough of a grip to tell a few close friends. We agreed that this world is sometimes too small to avoid these sorts of tragedies — even on the floor of a dance club, where friends and lovers gather.
Rest in peace, Tevin. You are already missed.
