Cory Salem, 1987-2008

Update 09/11/2008

Jenny and I returned from Cory's funeral yesterday. It was a really rough trip - about 20 hours spent in my Honda Fit over a 36 hour period - but months from now we would have deeply regretted not making the effort had we decided it was too far to attend. It was comforting to see such a great number of people attend - there weren't enough seats for everyone at the church. Rose-Hulman filled two buses, and there must have been at least another thirty cars in the procession. I think it touched, maybe even overwhelmed, his family to see how many people really cared for Cory.

And I have a little anecdote. As we all (should) know, a funeral procession trumps everything but an emergency vehicle. Jenny and I drove the second-to-last car in the procession. In driving to the graveyard, we passed some minor accident which required a cop to control (but not necessarily direct) traffic as our side of the road was reduced from two lanes to one. Well some chick in the right lane must've grown impatient as a line of 30+ vehicles cut in front of her, and so she edged slowly forward and... cut me off. She cut off a funeral procession. Bitch! But what was I to do? flip her off? lay on my horn? Didn't seem appropriate, especially next to an accident. Fortunately, the cop witness this skankosity and stepped into the slow-moving traffic and pointed at the chick, "You! Stop!" A car of Pikes were in between the action and must've gotten confused, because they stopped; and the cop said "Oh no, you go ahead. But YOU!" pointing at the girl, "You pull into that parking lot right now! You just cut into a funeral procession!" and the girl reluctantly pulled into some restaurant's lot. It's one of the few times I thoroughly enjoyed seeing a traffic cop yell at somebody.

Original 09/04/2008

Last I saw Cory was at dinner before the Pike Indy bar crawl, and we sat across from one another; and he was so excited (relative even to his own personality) because he just bought a motorcycle - and he went on and on about it. Later, I asked when would he be turning twenty-one, and he told me the day before school begins, and we talked about how exciting it is to turn twenty-one. Now, not two months later, I learn that he died in a motorcycle accident? on his twenty-first birthday? Perhaps it isn’t irony, but I can’t relinquish this uncanny feeling - that the topics of our last conversation are also circumstances of his untimely death. The only condolence I receive from this tragedy is that he was experiencing the motorcycle he enjoyed so much, and he reached the birthday he waited so long for. And I am glad that we just so happened to sit across from one other at that dinner in July.

Seldom does one meet a person with the charisma and energy that Cory possesses, and seldom still does one get to befriend such people. As with every man he had his faults, but Cory was a good man and a good friend. He brought joy to this world, and to my own life. He had great humor and even greater character. We were looking forward to having a drink out together at homecoming, which is now not too far away; but it seems, if there be a life after death, we’ll have to wait much longer for that drink.

I keep remembering the “Oh my gosh! It’s George Mills!” that Cory would shout so enthusiastically every time I visited last year, or the neon sign I helped hang in his room - probably because those are memories only the two of us share. I’ll miss you and remember you, Cory Salem. May you rest in peace.