Mark Andrew Crawshaw
March 23, 2014
Today I wanna tell you about my best friend Mark. My two best friends coming out of college were my freshman year roommate Jim and our other buddy Mark. Mark lived upstairs from us freshman year but considering the amount of time he spent in our room, he might as well have been our 3rd roommate. Whatever rules Jim & I had about people invading our space, Mark pretty much ignored them all. After a while (and because frankly Mark was pretty damned funny about it), Jim & I just gave up. We accepted that Mark would show up whenever he damn well pleased - even if it was 1130am on a Sunday morning, he was gonna pound on our door until we opened it and he didn't really care what we thought. Eventually it sort of became a thing. He'd show up the morning after some very late night drunken debauchery, cook Ramen noodles in our microwave, then stand on the ladder to our loft eating them and rehashing the previous night's activities. That should tell you all you need to know about the relationship Mark, Jim, and I had.
From pretty much November of freshman year all the way up through graduation, we were inseparable. It's funny how quickly 3 guys pursuing different careers, from different backgrounds and different parts of the country can very quickly become like brothers. But that's what's so great about college, right? We took vacations together, got to know each other's families, saw each other through breakups, and of course there was all the usual dumb college shit. But we always did it together. And as someone who didn't really have friends like that growing up or even in high school, Jim and Mark were as close to me as my actual brother.
After we graduated, Mark went west with his then fiancee while Jim and I stayed back in the northeast. Though we didn't see each other as often as we wanted (growing up always blows), we all still talked a lot. And we did manage for the 3 of us to get together at least twice a year to re-live some of our college days. It sucked being farther away from each other but we knew how strong our friendship was so the times we did get to hang out together were that much more fun.
Cut to 2006...our beloved alma mater - Bucknell University - had qualified for the NCAA March Madness tournament. Being a small school we were a 14 seed and we drew the mighty national powerhouse University of Kansas, a 3 seed, in the first round. There was no way we were winning this game. But sure enough, there our team was hanging tough with the mighty Jayhawks. It was late on a Friday night but with about 3 minutes left to go in the game, I called Jim on my cell phone and Mark on my house phone. I was the biggest sports fan of the 3 of us, but I knew they were both watching the game on TV. We couldn't believe what was happening and I knew I wanted to "watch" the end of the game with my 2 best friends. Against all odds, Bucknell took a late lead and held on for the upset victory. As the buzzer sounded all 3 of us simultaneously screamed at each other over the phone. It was one hell of a moment & to this day remains one of the biggest tournament upsets of the last decade.
That Sunday Bucknell lost it's second game and was eliminated from the tournament. After it was over I called Mark just to check in and bs about what happened. It was a quick conversation but we both agreed that had our team been better while we were still in college we definitely would've gone to more games. He had a big week coming up so I wished him well and told him I would check in with him later in the week.
That was 8 years ago. I can't believe how quickly that time has passed. I mention it because 8 years ago today I got the phone call that Mark had died. Suddenly and tragically. They say nothing prepares you for one of "those" phone calls. And "they" are right. What truly sucks is that while there are TONS of memories of Mark that have faded, I distinctly remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when I found out he died. It was a Thursday. I actually missed the initial call because I was in the shower. Only after I got dressed did I notice that I had a missed call from Mark's cell phone.
It struck me as odd for several reasons but the biggest one being that it was like 745 in the morning. We never talked that early in the morning and for him to be calling at that hour I knew something was up. But when I listened to the voicemail it wasn't Mark's voice - it was his mother's. I listened intently to her message as she asked me to give her a call. On Mark's cell phone no less. Panicking, I had pretty much only one thought in rolling around in my brain as I called her back - "please don't be dead." It sounds morbid, but it's true. I kept saying that to myself over and over again as I called Mark's mom.
Unfortunately, my greatest fears were realized the second she answered the phone. I could hear the sadness in her voice and I immediately knew what had happened. I don't remember much of the conversation itself other than telling her that Jim and I would be on our way as soon as possible. After we hung up, I remember sitting in my apartment literally paralyzed with what to do. I called Jim. We were speechless. I told him I would be at his house that afternoon and he should leave work. Next I called my parents and told them what happened. I was a mess. At that point in my life I hadn't even lost a grandparent. And now out of the blue I lost one of my 2 best friends. Two months shy of his 27th birthday.
Obviously that became the worst week of my life. 8 years on and I still miss him. Time heals all wounds, right? And sure time's passage helps make it sting a little less. But if I'm truly honest? I'm pissed at time. Stupid, I know. But the downside of time's passage is that I feel like I'm losing more and more memories of him. Of course the big ones won't go anywhere, but things like the way he laughed or his impression of Cartman from South Park get a little harder to remember every day. And that blows. Because I want to hold on to those memories. Those are what I want most - not the memory of him lying in his coffin or of the voicemail his mom left me asking me to call her (which I can't bring myself to delete for some reason).
As I sit here typing this I think one of the things that burns me most is the amount of cool shit he's missed in the intervening years. Though we never discussed it, I always just assumed the three of us would be each other's best men at our weddings. So when Jim got married in 2010, I had to give the best man's speech alone. Without Mark that was really hard. Plus it was the first time all 3 of our families were in the same place together since he passed so that made it extra emotional. He would've made a great uncle/godfather to Jim's daughters as well. My last post on here talked about how much they mean to me and I can only imagine how much fun they'd have had climbing all over him.
I think about the dumb things that he would've gotten a kick out of were he still with us. Like Twitter. He would've loved Twitter and he'd have been a great follow. He always had a killer sense of humor and I have no doubt his tweets would've reflected that. He probably would've had his account suspended once or twice too for putting his foot in his mouth but that was just part of his charm. He would've loved Game of Thrones, I know that. He'd have been a big fan of all the superhero movies. At least he hasn't missed a Buffalo Bills Super Bowl win. (he'd be super pissed about that)
Music...he'd probably have the biggest iTunes library of anybody I know. His affinity for music and his willingness to go to the ends of the earth for bizarre recordings would've been reflected on his computer. While his massive tape collection of live Phish & .Moe shows would've been somewhat obsolete, I'm sure by now he'd have transferred them all to a digital format and sent them to anybody who wanted them for free. He was that kind of guy.
I'm gonna wrap up with one last thought. While certain memories may be fading, every once in a while an old memory will spring back up. That happened just the other day in fact. I remembered back to freshman year. Mark, Jim, another friend & I piled into my giant Oldsmobile and drove from Pennsylvania to Florida for a Spring Break cruise. We drove pretty much non-stop the whole way (save for food/gas) and our only rule was that the guy in shotgun had to stay awake with the driver to keep him company. We crossed the Florida border at like 3 in the morning and Mark took over as driver with me in shotgun. I know for a fact I dozed on and off a bit and Mark didn't hold it against me. But around 6am or so he forced me to wake up because he wanted me to pay attention to something. See the sun had started to rise and he wanted at least one of us to share it with him. I remember very clearly that sunrise. I looked over at Mark. There he was - cigarette in his left hand, wearing plaid pajama pants (which he'd been wearing for almost 2 days straight at that point), a t-shirt, and his beat-up old Birkenstocks (which somehow survived long enough to be placed in his coffin with him). It's as perfect an image of Mark as I can think of. Window down, sun coming up, smoking, quietly singing along with his music, and a huge smile on his face...
RIP my sir.
I miss you.
-SDR
Me, Mark, Jim (& our cat PIper) the night we threw our first big off campus party at our house Senior year.