"goin fishin after school"

I got the news today that Jacob had died. 17 year-old reflexes, a 4800 pound SUV, and a split-second decision intersected resulting in irreversible consequences and grieving families. My first reaction was, “Oh man, not again.” It seems too common for the young to leave us - unrealized potential, unfulfilled dreams. With tears I struggled through questions and immediately a memory surfaced, crystal clear, of my first “real” encounter with Jacob.

It was November 2002 and we were at the Sportsmen for Christ Thanksgiving Turkey Shoot. I noticed him as soon as he got out of his dad’s car. Nine, maybe ten years old, he was about to bust with excitement. Excited to be there with his Daddy, excited to be “one of the guys,” excited about the gun case containing HIS .410, excited to win the big prize. I liked him already!

He sort of reminded me of a banty rooster. I’m not sure if Jacob had fired a gun before but he knew, knew, KNEW that he was going to win. He walked up to the line, took careful aim, breathed a deep breath and squeezed the trigger. The barrel of his little .410 barked and a load of #7’s pelted the target. He turned around with a smug, no, it was more dopey than smug, grin on his face and strutted, yes “strutted,” back over to his daddy. I really like that kid!

Several other people shot and I walked down to view the results. Sure enough, the target in lane 1, Jacob’s target, had the best score and he won round one.

We proceeded through three rounds. Jacob would walk up to the line, shoulder his shotgun, peer down the barrel at the site and shoot. Each time he finished at or near the top of the heap. At the end of the day Jacob claimed 1st place. The memory of him, smile larger than life, hefting that turkey, nearly as big as him will forever be burned in my mind. I loved that kid!

After I heard the news I logged onto Facebook and checked out Jacob’s page. His last entry said, “…goin fishing after school.” He never made it to the lake on Friday….

RIP JFN!