Eliot Scott
It seems like it is too early to be writing something like this. I only heard an hour ago. Is there a minimum amount of time you are supposed to wait? But I can't stop thinking about what I want to write here. So I am.
My friend Eliot Scott died today. Eliot Scott enlisted in the army right out of high school and subsequently went to the war in Iraq. He enlisted for four years but was not allowed to leave (as far as I understand) until two days ago. Most of you readers will not know Eliot Scott. He isn't someone I talked about often, if at all, but he was definitely in my thoughts. He was my face to the Iraq war. But he wasn't a soldier to me.
I have known Eliot for many many years. I first met him on the Alameda Cheetahs in 3rd or 4th grade. We didn't really get to know each other until freshman year of high school when we were both on the Freshman Soccer team. We both played defense and were quite competitive with each other. The next year we were on the JV team again. This is how I knew Eliot, as a teammate. We hung out a few times outside of that. Playing truth or dare at my 18th birthday party. I remember my dad coming in to the living room with a bunch of us with our shirts off asking what the hell was going on. After I went to college, I saw him three times, once at my 1st (and only) annual Christmas ginger bread party when he was home on leave. Then after I came home for the summer freshman year. We went slacklining in Laurelhurst Park. The last time was at a welcome home party a few years ago.
Eliot and I traveled in slightly different circles, both in high school and after. But he was always one of my favorite people. To me, we had a special bond. We were teammates. Even after he went on to play on Varsity (while I was on JV and then the bench) he was my teammate. When I think about soccer at Grant High School, the happy memories always have Eliot Scott. I felt like when we saw each other we were both very excited, even if we didn't know how to show it.
I have been getting emails for the last few years with updates from his mom on how he is doing in the war. I followed eagerly the news of his return home for good this summer. I got the email that his redeployment ceremony two days ago went great and that it was "full of smiles." I thought to myself how much I wanted to see him, but I wasn't sure what we would do together. I wondered if he would still be interested in slack lining.
Last night he was out celebrating with some friends and went to the car to get something. When he didn't come back his friends went looking for him. He was lying on the ground seizing. He was taken to tho hospital. He died from internal bleeding today.
How can someone make it through the war and die two days after he gets home? I could tell you about his hopes and his dreams. How he was enrolled in college in Boston. But it just doesn't seem fair to think about what he is missing.
I will just concentrate on what I am missing.
It is hard for me to describe Eliot. He was competitive. He was confident. He was fun. I think when it really comes down to it I didn't know him very well. He hung out with a lot of other people more than he ever hung out with me. I think when people describe their lost ones, they want you to understand how much they lost. They want to share their grief. I guess it is enough for me that I know he was my friend and that I have lost something.
I don't think of this as a political thing. I think I could but I don't. I am not angry at the Army, or the government or President Bush (as I see it, the face of the war) or anyone. I am only sad that war was all he knew for the last five years.
I am angry that randomness like this can happen. I am angry that the world is so meaningless. You are here and then you aren't. That's it.
Death is a strange thing. It happens all the time and is probably one of the most common things on the planet. You hear about people dying. And it is like, "oh that's too bad." But it is never the same when it happens to you.
I can think of three deaths that have really hit me. Eliot is the third. How could this happen? How is this fair?
I guess the answer is: It isn't. Get used to it.
I am sad I won't get to see my friend again.
13 October 2007 09:45pm UTC • 536 views • 0 comments
Tagged with death, friend, eliotscott
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