A tribute to Chris

Fifth period junior English during the 2001-2002 school year was the BEST way to end the day. I cannot remember a time when we didn't laugh for most of the hour. Twenty boys and three or four girls greeted me right after lunch with smiles and relentless banter every day. I loved that class and every student in it.

There were the wrestlers and the basketball players. The wrestlers, who were on top of the state that year, loved to heckle the basketball players who marked the calendar when they won a game. Occasionally, I'd have to ask the wrestlers to just lay off because the basketball players felt bad enough about their dismal record.

Magdalena, the grammar queen from Romania, sat smack dab in the middle of the room and wowed everyone else with her superior knowledge of the English language. There were also a few quiet students----very few---who simply sat and took it all in as we marched through American literature, grammar and prepared for the Idaho Writing Proficiency test.

Every single day we learned vocabulary, and they all LOVED the word of the day. Anyone who could answer key questions, such as naming all the parts of speech in the vocabulary sentence, was rewarded with a Nestle's chocolate treasure.

That was when I learned that Chris Reynolds was allergic to peanuts. One day, he refused his piece of candy, offering it to someone else. I don't know if that's why Chris died, but his shocking obituary in this morning's paper said "natural causes." So, I'll just have to guess.

Chris, a nice-looking young man with curly black hair, rarely stopped fidgeting. I'm guessing that had a lot to do with the fact that he was a musician. Music was his life. He played in the jazz band. He wrote music, and he reportedly played a wild guitar. He told me once about his band that had traveled around the country the summer before. They were looking forward to some big gigs the next summer.

There were moments in class when I'd look back there at Chris. He'd be staring toward the floor with arms and legs bouncing quietly in rhythm. It was clear that his mind was deep in song. And that was okay! Nobody ever heckled him about his musical success.

The last time I saw Chris was about a year ago when he drove past my house and threw me a big wave and a smile. Good looking. Fun. Impish. Talented. A nice young man with a great future in music.

I'm sure all my students in our wacky and warm fifth-period community will be stunned to learn of his passing. What a sad loss!

I have no doubts, however, that Chris is up there strumming in Heaven.