Theo

I don't remember Theo before the accident.  They say he was completely different.  Bright.  Pleasant.  Talented. He had graduated college and played drums in a local band.

Late one night someone had run a stop sign out on 317 and t-boned him.  They weren't sure he would make it.  There were several surgeries, some brain damage, but Theo pulled through.

He was never right after that.  It left him with a significant speech impediment and at least some minor mental issues.  The family tried to get him on disability, but he must have had one ass of a doctor.  He refused to sign off on it, saying, "If he can hold a broom, he can find a job."

Theo had a job.  He was news director and host of the mid-day show on the small AM radio station I began working for my senior year of high school.  Fortunately, Theo's father was the station owner/sales manager, so he was able to keep his job.

When I came to know him, Theo was irritable, a bit of a smart-aleck, and generally unhappy.  We got along well enough, as I worked for an hour in the morning before school and on weekends so I wasn't around him much.

Then there was the speech problem.  About the worst issue you could wish for working in radio.  Sometimes it made him sound like he was mentally challenged.  Other times it was like speaking to a child.

Sometime after the accident -- I don't recall how long -- his wife divorced him.  I'm sure this only made him grow a little more bitter.

The owner of the station applied for and was granted an FM frequency and I wound up transitioning to full-time and worked there for several years.  About a year after I left, he sold the stations.  The new owner eventually changed formats and within a year everyone I had worked with was let go, including Theo.

I saw him twice after that.   

My Dad was in a local band that played mostly country along with some 70's rock.  Theo was filling in on drums for them once and someone requested a gospel song, which they would occasionally do.  Theo refused to play and walked out. He didn't want to have anything to do with a God that had allowed him to wind up in the shape he was in.

I heard Theo got a job reading meters for the utility company.  I thought about the "hold a broom" line.  The last time I saw him was at his father's funeral.  He remembered me, shook my hand, and thanked me for coming.

A couple of years ago Dad called and told me Theo had passed away.  I scanned the obituary and guestbook comments.  They spoke of how talented he was, a killer drummer.  

One person mentioned that Theo auditioned for a band in Florida when he was sixteen.  He got the gig but ultimately left the band to stay in school.  

One of his teachers talked about his creativity and acting talent in high school plays.  And then, "He always wore a smile."

I wish I had known that Theo.  It's difficult for me not to feel like the system failed him somehow.  It's impossible for me not to feel sad for him, and I suppose for anyone to not wonder "What if?"

The obituary mentioned Theo's children.  I was able to look them up on Facebook.  Three good-looking young men.  I saw Theo's eyes.

There were also grandkids.  At least four of them.  I hoped Theo had found happiness in them in his later years.  I hoped he had become a little less bitter.  

And who knows, maybe he had even come to sing a couple of gospel songs.