Written for PAL-MEL Production Inc.   

Submitted March 1st, 2025

Second grade at Holy Innocents’ feels like a lifetime ago. Most of it blurs together—Friday Fun Days on the South Campus turf, launching Beyblades at lunch, racing to see who could swing the highest on the playground. But some moments ~stick, and one of those was the day Gene came to visit.

I don’t remember exactly why he was there. Maybe to talk about success, just to bring a little magic to a room full of kids who barely knew who he was. But I remember how the air in the room changed when he walked in. Teachers smiled a little wider. Kids sat up a little straighter. Even if we didn’t fully understand his legacy, we could feel that he was someone important. But to me, he wasn’t just a famous guest—he was family.

Standing next to me that day was my best friend, Jack O’Kelley. If you knew us back then, we were mostly together. Beyblades spun across the ground and mini plastic arenas (it was very popular), tackling each other on the turf, laughing so hard we could barely breathe. But if there was one thing Jack and our friends took seriously, it was footraces.

Racing on the south campus turf was more than electric. That competitive drive, that pure, unfiltered joy of being a kid—that was Jack. He made everything feel like a game, like something worth pushing yourself for.

There’s a picture from that day—Gene, Jack, and me. I still have it. It’s one of those photos that means more as time goes on. Back then, it was just a snapshot of a random school day. Now, it’s something else entirely. Jack is gone. Fentanyl took him too soon, and the weight of that is something I still struggle to wrap my head around.

When I look at that picture now, I don’t just see three people smiling for a camera, I see what it represents. Friendship. Family. The people who shape you. The people you think will always be there. It’s a reminder that life moves fast, that nothing is guaranteed, and that the moments we take for granted are the ones we end up holding onto the tightest.

If that day taught me anything, it’s this: appreciate the people you love while they’re here. Because in the end, the memories you make with them are what last.