IV-
I opened my eyes in complete shock. The incident might not have even been as bad as I can recall but I can remember how shocked I was. Slowly loosening my 10:00-2:00 grip on the wheel I realized that this was a first: One of my prayers had been answered.
At the time I wasn't a religious person. I had assured myself it was a lucky coincidence. I hadn't gone to church in 5 years, why would God want to help me out?
I made it to Macie's house in one piece. Driving was supposed to be the easy part and I could barely do that. Now I had to walk into a house mostly full of people that I had never met. It didn't matter though we all shared one pain: The loss of Chris. I paid condolances to all of them making friends through tragedy seemed very ironic.
I finally got home at 5:15 AM and did what I always do when I lay in bed: think about what happened today, and what tomorrow and the next day could bring me. I cried, I tossed, I turned, I even tried praying again, just to see if I'm on a roll.
Seeing your first dead body is a life-changing experience. That should have been my great-grandma or a distant aunt, but even though there had been deaths-my dad, my uncle, my great-grandma, I had always been shunned from postlife activities. It shouldn't have been Peanut. It shouldn't have been when I was surrounded by my close friends, and everyday-smalltown-acquantances.
My senses were weakening as I waited in line reality suddenly kicked in when I saw Peanut's relatives, I couldn't imagine the pain that they were going through. With little sleep throughout the week everything from the crash until now seemed like a dream to me. This had really happened because I was now next in line to see him.
I took a quick glance at him and immediately remembered the night I gave him a chance. The night I threw out all the bull shit that dragged along with his name. We sat around and talked all night because we couldn't find a party. We played x-box and talked about everything until 5 in the morning. He wasn't what the town thought of him, I realized how dumb people can really be. I thought to myself, "This guy is a great guy, I don't care what people think he is my friend."
It was my turn. I had a lump the size of a golfball in my throat to go along with my rapid heart beat...
Showing posts with label Rough Draft. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rough Draft. Show all posts
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Memoir- Rough Draft Part III
I still remember that night vividly. It was a cold winter night, and we had a few snowstorms days before. I was driving around with Bryce Hasley, which was strange because we'd never done that without Chris. It was strange enough that Bryce and Chris weren't together, they were the best of friends.
I asked Bryce where Chris was, and he even called him but I can't remember if he answered. Bryce said we'd meet up with him later most likely. We went to McDonalds and someone had called about an accident near Victor and it looked pretty bad. We didn't think much of it, continued our trip to McDonalds, then we went to Victor. The one night I go to Victor. We were at Brian Schafbuch's house and many people, especially Chris, found the Schafbuch residence a second home. There were over a dozen kids there. In the midst of the commotion someone received a call and was told that Chris and a kid from Marengo were driving, swerved something, and ended up striking a house. We didn't believe it until Brian confirmed the news. Panick struck the entire room. Everyone was completely shocked. My first thought was Jake, my room mate and one of my best friends. I thought he was the kid from Marengo because he hung out with Chris a lot during wrestling season. It was bad enough that Chris had passed away but not knowing which one of my friends was in there with him was an unforgettingly painful feeling. We received another update informing us that it was Alex Slaymaker. This can't be real, my throat swelled shut and my head felt like it was about to erupt. Bryce called Chris' little sister Macie and we picked her up from her house. I couldn't imagine the pain she is feeling as she walked slowly with her head down towards my car. We all just sat there crying in the silence during the short trip back to Schafbuch's place. I dropped Bryce and Macie off, and told them I'd be back. It was around 11 o'clock by the time I got to my mom's house, which is 100 feet from Brian's. I woke up my mom and told her, then cried in her arms for a solid minute while muttering, "it's not fair, why them?"
The word spread around both towns very quickly. For some reason I just needed to drive. I couldn't really do anything else except drive. I was heading towards Marengo without an idea where I was going. I stopped and saw one of my best friends who I probably go back farthest with and she was also Chris' ex-girlfriend: Danelle. I walked into the room and everyone had either tears, make-up, or both running down their faces. I walked in gave hugs, sat down without saying much, then left. I made one more stop out at Brandon's dads farm. It was nice to all be at the same level in terms of knowing Chris and Alex. We talked about the times we had with them, but also looked at it much deeper. We hoped they were in a better place, but I was very skeptical. I hadn't attended church since I was confirmed in 8th grade. I wasn't an athiest by any means, I just wasn't hit with a sign yet.
Macie called me and asked if I could come over, all the Victor kids were there and she wanted me to so I left Brandon's and headed to the Robert's household. The roads were still slick from the snowstorm, but that was the least of my worries at the time. I was so pissed off at life causing me to drive stupid, not a good combination when driving on slick gravel roads. I must have been in a daze and all of a sudden I saw a T-intersection and knew I was going too fast. I had no choice but to slam on the breaks, turn the wheel as far as I could, there wasn't much more to do after that, so I distinctively remember saying out loud, "I need some help up there" and shut my eyes.
To be continued...
I asked Bryce where Chris was, and he even called him but I can't remember if he answered. Bryce said we'd meet up with him later most likely. We went to McDonalds and someone had called about an accident near Victor and it looked pretty bad. We didn't think much of it, continued our trip to McDonalds, then we went to Victor. The one night I go to Victor. We were at Brian Schafbuch's house and many people, especially Chris, found the Schafbuch residence a second home. There were over a dozen kids there. In the midst of the commotion someone received a call and was told that Chris and a kid from Marengo were driving, swerved something, and ended up striking a house. We didn't believe it until Brian confirmed the news. Panick struck the entire room. Everyone was completely shocked. My first thought was Jake, my room mate and one of my best friends. I thought he was the kid from Marengo because he hung out with Chris a lot during wrestling season. It was bad enough that Chris had passed away but not knowing which one of my friends was in there with him was an unforgettingly painful feeling. We received another update informing us that it was Alex Slaymaker. This can't be real, my throat swelled shut and my head felt like it was about to erupt. Bryce called Chris' little sister Macie and we picked her up from her house. I couldn't imagine the pain she is feeling as she walked slowly with her head down towards my car. We all just sat there crying in the silence during the short trip back to Schafbuch's place. I dropped Bryce and Macie off, and told them I'd be back. It was around 11 o'clock by the time I got to my mom's house, which is 100 feet from Brian's. I woke up my mom and told her, then cried in her arms for a solid minute while muttering, "it's not fair, why them?"
The word spread around both towns very quickly. For some reason I just needed to drive. I couldn't really do anything else except drive. I was heading towards Marengo without an idea where I was going. I stopped and saw one of my best friends who I probably go back farthest with and she was also Chris' ex-girlfriend: Danelle. I walked into the room and everyone had either tears, make-up, or both running down their faces. I walked in gave hugs, sat down without saying much, then left. I made one more stop out at Brandon's dads farm. It was nice to all be at the same level in terms of knowing Chris and Alex. We talked about the times we had with them, but also looked at it much deeper. We hoped they were in a better place, but I was very skeptical. I hadn't attended church since I was confirmed in 8th grade. I wasn't an athiest by any means, I just wasn't hit with a sign yet.
Macie called me and asked if I could come over, all the Victor kids were there and she wanted me to so I left Brandon's and headed to the Robert's household. The roads were still slick from the snowstorm, but that was the least of my worries at the time. I was so pissed off at life causing me to drive stupid, not a good combination when driving on slick gravel roads. I must have been in a daze and all of a sudden I saw a T-intersection and knew I was going too fast. I had no choice but to slam on the breaks, turn the wheel as far as I could, there wasn't much more to do after that, so I distinctively remember saying out loud, "I need some help up there" and shut my eyes.
To be continued...
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Memoir- Rough Draft Part II.
II.
My right knee was pumping up and down from anticipation. She greeted Mr. Samuelson and I with a smile before she settled in. I told her what he said and she looked completely dumbfounded throughout the entire story. It turns out that there was no truth in my teachers lecture about "self-defense". I can remember mom starting off with, "Corey your dad was not a bad guy so don't you ever let anyone make you think differently. You know John Smith, his best friend?"
I nodded to her rhetorical question. "John's girlfriend was hit by the man who murdered your dad, so Chad, John, and another friend went looking for him to straighten things out. I won't lie to you Cor, someone was going to fight him, but that's how things were settled back then." "They went to his trailer court and Chad stepped out of the car and was shot."
I was relieved and felt one-hundred percent better. We weren't finished though, because our principal wanted to sit down and talk with the teacher, mom, and myself. He apologized, and I accepted it right away but I asked for one thing: to tell the truth tomorrow. He said sorry to me the next day at school, but never apologized for spreading gossip. What he did was wrong and something I will never forget, but I do forgive him. He helped me figure out a lot that day, and finally mom and I could talk about him instead of avoiding the subject.
This incident at school was near the time I was living at my grandparents house, instead of Victor. My grandma and grandpa are huge influences on my life, and I couldn't have made it this far without them. To this day they have always been there for me whether I needed a helping hand, or an open bed. I can remember what my grandmother wrote on my graduation card, "We are so proud of you, the door is ALWAYS open for you." It's also easy growing up when everyone that surrounded me was willing to help me out. I'm rarely in a situation where I have no one to turn to, and I'm very grateful of that. Even though I always had a place to stay, I could never find a true home once we moved from Marengo.
My senior year went by too fast. My favorite Christmas present was given to me that year. My mom planned a vacation to Florida for the two of us during Spring Break. The trip was something we both needed, because we were beginning to grow farther and farther apart from each other since the move. Her and I could talk for hours about how far we had come, and how unbelievable it really was once we took a step back and looked at it. We took it day-by-day, cherishing everything we were thankful for, but keeping our guard up and taking on any obstacle the world would happen to bring us. We traveled thousands of miles to Florida from Iowa, but we didn't do anything except relax, and that's why we get along so well. It didn't matter how much Florida had to offer, all we did was eat, talk, and lounge. We came upon the subject of me getting a tattoo, and she loved the idea. The problem was, I didn't know what I wanted to get. We came up with corny ideas, and finally I asked one of my good buddies Luis what I should get. I told him about possibly honoring my dad, and he text messaged me, "How about, 'Chad Lives'."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The idea seemed perfect, and I didn't think twice. I had no problem knowing that it would be on my left wrist for eternity. Most of my friends couldn't relate to what I went through so it was hard to find someone to talk to, so I wanted to show everyone I wasn't afraid of the subject anymore. My tattoo means that he lives within me, and no matter what I do and do not accomplish, he's along for the ride.
The trip to Florida with my mom was unforgettable, but so were the confrontations that followed. I felt that when we moved I was replaced, as if she didn't need me anymore. I never stayed in Victor and we became more and more distant. Everything seemed so perfect, just the three of us and didn't understand why she wanted this. Finally I called her out on it one day and we got into our first big fight. I asked her if she was happy splitting us up and told her I hated her and didn't need her anymore. She hung up and the next thing I knew my cell phone was deactivated. I was worried she would never talk to me again so I rushed to the medical clinic and saw her sitting alone outside on the phone. She hung up the phone as I approached her and I saw something I hadn't seen before: Mom had tears running down her cheeks. I felt like a monster, I didn't think anything could make her cry. She told me she had enough and couldn't do this anymore. I cried and told her I was sorry, but I really wasn't.
I now know that I was selfish. My mom loves Jamie and he's going to be there for her until the very end. I've grown up and realized I don't want my mom living alone, and I'm really happy that they're together. I love my family now and am glad they still love me, thanks for being so patient with me.
I went to Kirkwood my freshman year and surprisingly loved school. I was on the deans list my first semester (3.25), which surprised everyone considering my GPA at the end of highschool ended up being a 2.5. Of course I still had fun outside of class and went to parties. There is one party that will stick out in my mind forever.
My friends had a little get-together at their house so Jake, Peanut (Alex Slaymaker), Taylor, Chris, and I went together. We were playing beer pong in the garage and everyone was having a great time until a strange looking couple walked into the door. They both looked gothic, but it was near Halloween so they were probably dressed in costumes. No one seemed to recognize them so I asked who they were. They said they came to the wrong house, but I asked if they'd like to hang and have a few beers. The request was declined and they walked out the door. We continued our party as if nothing happened but we heard someone yell and the next thing we knew we were all covered in beer.
Peanut led us outside to figure out what this guys problem was. He must have taken my invitation as sarcasm, because he pointed to me and said he wanted to beat the shit out of me. Before I could even respond, Peanut fired back, "If you even touch Corey, I will beat the shit out of you". Everything seemed to happen so fast so the next thing I knew there was a brawl in the middle of the cul-de-sac. Peanut manhandled him, and won the fight with ease. I patted him on the back and offered him a beer, but I didn't say thank-you. I never got to thank him, because he and my other friend Chris Roberts died in an automobile accident a few months after the fight.
(Continue to Part III below)...
My right knee was pumping up and down from anticipation. She greeted Mr. Samuelson and I with a smile before she settled in. I told her what he said and she looked completely dumbfounded throughout the entire story. It turns out that there was no truth in my teachers lecture about "self-defense". I can remember mom starting off with, "Corey your dad was not a bad guy so don't you ever let anyone make you think differently. You know John Smith, his best friend?"
I nodded to her rhetorical question. "John's girlfriend was hit by the man who murdered your dad, so Chad, John, and another friend went looking for him to straighten things out. I won't lie to you Cor, someone was going to fight him, but that's how things were settled back then." "They went to his trailer court and Chad stepped out of the car and was shot."
I was relieved and felt one-hundred percent better. We weren't finished though, because our principal wanted to sit down and talk with the teacher, mom, and myself. He apologized, and I accepted it right away but I asked for one thing: to tell the truth tomorrow. He said sorry to me the next day at school, but never apologized for spreading gossip. What he did was wrong and something I will never forget, but I do forgive him. He helped me figure out a lot that day, and finally mom and I could talk about him instead of avoiding the subject.
This incident at school was near the time I was living at my grandparents house, instead of Victor. My grandma and grandpa are huge influences on my life, and I couldn't have made it this far without them. To this day they have always been there for me whether I needed a helping hand, or an open bed. I can remember what my grandmother wrote on my graduation card, "We are so proud of you, the door is ALWAYS open for you." It's also easy growing up when everyone that surrounded me was willing to help me out. I'm rarely in a situation where I have no one to turn to, and I'm very grateful of that. Even though I always had a place to stay, I could never find a true home once we moved from Marengo.
My senior year went by too fast. My favorite Christmas present was given to me that year. My mom planned a vacation to Florida for the two of us during Spring Break. The trip was something we both needed, because we were beginning to grow farther and farther apart from each other since the move. Her and I could talk for hours about how far we had come, and how unbelievable it really was once we took a step back and looked at it. We took it day-by-day, cherishing everything we were thankful for, but keeping our guard up and taking on any obstacle the world would happen to bring us. We traveled thousands of miles to Florida from Iowa, but we didn't do anything except relax, and that's why we get along so well. It didn't matter how much Florida had to offer, all we did was eat, talk, and lounge. We came upon the subject of me getting a tattoo, and she loved the idea. The problem was, I didn't know what I wanted to get. We came up with corny ideas, and finally I asked one of my good buddies Luis what I should get. I told him about possibly honoring my dad, and he text messaged me, "How about, 'Chad Lives'."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The idea seemed perfect, and I didn't think twice. I had no problem knowing that it would be on my left wrist for eternity. Most of my friends couldn't relate to what I went through so it was hard to find someone to talk to, so I wanted to show everyone I wasn't afraid of the subject anymore. My tattoo means that he lives within me, and no matter what I do and do not accomplish, he's along for the ride.
The trip to Florida with my mom was unforgettable, but so were the confrontations that followed. I felt that when we moved I was replaced, as if she didn't need me anymore. I never stayed in Victor and we became more and more distant. Everything seemed so perfect, just the three of us and didn't understand why she wanted this. Finally I called her out on it one day and we got into our first big fight. I asked her if she was happy splitting us up and told her I hated her and didn't need her anymore. She hung up and the next thing I knew my cell phone was deactivated. I was worried she would never talk to me again so I rushed to the medical clinic and saw her sitting alone outside on the phone. She hung up the phone as I approached her and I saw something I hadn't seen before: Mom had tears running down her cheeks. I felt like a monster, I didn't think anything could make her cry. She told me she had enough and couldn't do this anymore. I cried and told her I was sorry, but I really wasn't.
I now know that I was selfish. My mom loves Jamie and he's going to be there for her until the very end. I've grown up and realized I don't want my mom living alone, and I'm really happy that they're together. I love my family now and am glad they still love me, thanks for being so patient with me.
I went to Kirkwood my freshman year and surprisingly loved school. I was on the deans list my first semester (3.25), which surprised everyone considering my GPA at the end of highschool ended up being a 2.5. Of course I still had fun outside of class and went to parties. There is one party that will stick out in my mind forever.
My friends had a little get-together at their house so Jake, Peanut (Alex Slaymaker), Taylor, Chris, and I went together. We were playing beer pong in the garage and everyone was having a great time until a strange looking couple walked into the door. They both looked gothic, but it was near Halloween so they were probably dressed in costumes. No one seemed to recognize them so I asked who they were. They said they came to the wrong house, but I asked if they'd like to hang and have a few beers. The request was declined and they walked out the door. We continued our party as if nothing happened but we heard someone yell and the next thing we knew we were all covered in beer.
Peanut led us outside to figure out what this guys problem was. He must have taken my invitation as sarcasm, because he pointed to me and said he wanted to beat the shit out of me. Before I could even respond, Peanut fired back, "If you even touch Corey, I will beat the shit out of you". Everything seemed to happen so fast so the next thing I knew there was a brawl in the middle of the cul-de-sac. Peanut manhandled him, and won the fight with ease. I patted him on the back and offered him a beer, but I didn't say thank-you. I never got to thank him, because he and my other friend Chris Roberts died in an automobile accident a few months after the fight.
(Continue to Part III below)...
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Memoir- Rough Draft
I.
Most people don't enjoy others life stories, which is why I've been hesitant to write this in the first place. For those that are still reading I believe my story needs to be revealed. If you "know" me its a 99% chance that you really have no idea who I am, but I'm willing to expand that 1% by taking you along on my journey.
I'm twenty and I go to a community college near my home town and work as a supervisor at the mall. Mix in being an actual college kid and that leaves little time for what I want and will do for life: write. I love the feeling of transferring my emotions into words whether I'm in the best or worst mood it always seems to help. I've always tried staying positive, no matter what each day throws at me. Many can't imagine what I've gone through, but I truly wouldn't change who I am, so this story isn't about sympathy. Its about life shaping you into who you really are and no matter what tries to get in your way you never give up.
I grew up never really knowing what happened to my father. After I was told a variety of different reasons i eventually figured out he wasn't on vacation or that he wrestled so much he broke all of his bones. It turns out he was shot and killed in a trailer court. I was 4 years old so I barely even remember him. To be honest I never once thought it was hard growing up without a dad, thanks to my amazing mother and best friend. She was a better mom than most moms and a better dad than many of the dads I knew. I played catch with her every day once the snow melted until the snow started to fall. She would do anything for me, I was the luckiest kid in the world.
I just turned six and my baby brother was just a month away. If you do the math its obvious that he should be classified as a half brother. His dads name is Joel and he disappeared once my brother was born. I raised Cullen when Mom was working 40 hours at the university of iowa hospital while going back to school to get her nursing degree. I would get my brother up and going for preschool when I was 11 and I began realizing I was the man of the house, a responsibility most 11 year olds never experience.
If there was one thing I knew about my father when I was younger it was that he was a legend at Iowa Valley High School. He was a two-time state wrestling champion at Iowa Valley and they made sure no one would forget his name. In the trophey room there's a plaque with the big picture of him after winning state, and his name is on the wrestling mats. My dads brother Tracy was also a very good wrestler. I don't know much about him other than he died of cancer a few years after my father passed.
I began wrestling in second grade but I only competed in meets that didn't keep score. I remember going to a tournament in North English with my mom, my older cousin Wade and my Uncle Vince. They all assured me that they wouldn't be keeping score, that it was just for fun. I ended up getting first place and began enjoying wrestling a little more as long as I won. The enjoyment quickly ended at the Chad and Tracy Dietze wrestling tournament in Marengo. There was a picture in the town paper where they set up me pinning my friend Nick Schmuecker to advertise the event. It felt like all eyes were on me when I walked on the mat that memorialized my dad and uncle. I got third place out of four in that tournament, and never wrestled again.
I grew up having a love for playing sports, especially baseball. I played football and ran track until my sophomore year, the same year I dropped band and my grades began to slip. I ended up sticking through basketball where I could only play when a team ran a 2-3 zone (I was only good at shooting three point shots) and baseball. I was much smaller and undeveloped which is a big disadvantage in all sports, except wrestling. People said some awful things about me but never once did I let it get to me, I always gave 110%. Someone told my grandma that I had no business being on the basketball court, that I was too small. I played varsity baseball in 8th grade and would play when we either needed a walk, or if we were winning by ten runs. When I went up to the plate one game a lady from the stands asked why the bat boy was hitting. I was always told, "You're too small to play basketball you should wrestle, it's in your blood." Most people who said that were friends, fellow wrestlers, and coaches of my dad. If I let all of those people down it only makes sense that I let my dad down too, so I'm sorry for not carrying tradition.
However, none of the people that pressured me into wrestling didn't care what I went through. They have no idea what it's like being 9 years old and getting pinned twice at the tournament dedicated to their father and uncle.
My childhood was amazing up until my junior year. My mom began dating again, and to my surprise she fell in love. To this day I do like Jamie and his two kids and I wish I would have been more open to them. Once we moved from the town I lived in and loved my entire life things seemed to be going downhill. My grades went from merely perfect to barely passing and my attitude was beginning to shift for the worse. There is one day out of that year that I will never, ever forget.
I was sitting in 2nd period criminal justice class and we came upon the subject of self-defense. My teacher then began telling a story: "This group of boys were bullying this other kid all day and told him they were going to beat him up after school. Well once school was out this group of boys went searching for him and went to the trailer court he lived in. These boys were physically fit and great athletes at this school, so once he saw the car full of guys he was scared for his life so he grabbed a gun. Once the driver came out of the car BOOM! He shot him from the door of his trailer. He was threatened, his life was in danger he was defending himself, so it was a case of self-defense.
In my head I was thinking, "Yeah if they were threatening to kill him, the guy probably deserved it." My thought process was interrupted by my teacher continuing his lecture,
"I think many of you know who this was". Everyone shook their head no, making this story new to the entire class. "Chad Dietze".
My heart pumped so fast, up to this point I didn't hear the entire story but I never thought my dad was the bad guy. Everyone was silent, like God pressed the pause button for a good 10 seconds. He said sorry and ended the lecture. I sat there in disbelief, not saying a word praying for the bell to hurry up and ring so I could get out of that room and breathe. My head was clouded with all these different things I've heard about my dads death and I broke down and cried in front of my entire class and left the room. I went to the guidance counselors office to let him know what was bothering me, and he asked if I'd like my mom to come clear up any confusion I had about the situation. I was ready to hear it, the true story and nothing more so I called her asking to come to the school. She must have sensed something in my voice and didn't ask a single question, instead she replied, "I'll be there in 5 minutes".
Sure enough less than five minutes passed and she walked in with her nursing scrubs, ready to tell me the untold truth..
(continued below)
Most people don't enjoy others life stories, which is why I've been hesitant to write this in the first place. For those that are still reading I believe my story needs to be revealed. If you "know" me its a 99% chance that you really have no idea who I am, but I'm willing to expand that 1% by taking you along on my journey.
I'm twenty and I go to a community college near my home town and work as a supervisor at the mall. Mix in being an actual college kid and that leaves little time for what I want and will do for life: write. I love the feeling of transferring my emotions into words whether I'm in the best or worst mood it always seems to help. I've always tried staying positive, no matter what each day throws at me. Many can't imagine what I've gone through, but I truly wouldn't change who I am, so this story isn't about sympathy. Its about life shaping you into who you really are and no matter what tries to get in your way you never give up.
I grew up never really knowing what happened to my father. After I was told a variety of different reasons i eventually figured out he wasn't on vacation or that he wrestled so much he broke all of his bones. It turns out he was shot and killed in a trailer court. I was 4 years old so I barely even remember him. To be honest I never once thought it was hard growing up without a dad, thanks to my amazing mother and best friend. She was a better mom than most moms and a better dad than many of the dads I knew. I played catch with her every day once the snow melted until the snow started to fall. She would do anything for me, I was the luckiest kid in the world.
I just turned six and my baby brother was just a month away. If you do the math its obvious that he should be classified as a half brother. His dads name is Joel and he disappeared once my brother was born. I raised Cullen when Mom was working 40 hours at the university of iowa hospital while going back to school to get her nursing degree. I would get my brother up and going for preschool when I was 11 and I began realizing I was the man of the house, a responsibility most 11 year olds never experience.
If there was one thing I knew about my father when I was younger it was that he was a legend at Iowa Valley High School. He was a two-time state wrestling champion at Iowa Valley and they made sure no one would forget his name. In the trophey room there's a plaque with the big picture of him after winning state, and his name is on the wrestling mats. My dads brother Tracy was also a very good wrestler. I don't know much about him other than he died of cancer a few years after my father passed.
I began wrestling in second grade but I only competed in meets that didn't keep score. I remember going to a tournament in North English with my mom, my older cousin Wade and my Uncle Vince. They all assured me that they wouldn't be keeping score, that it was just for fun. I ended up getting first place and began enjoying wrestling a little more as long as I won. The enjoyment quickly ended at the Chad and Tracy Dietze wrestling tournament in Marengo. There was a picture in the town paper where they set up me pinning my friend Nick Schmuecker to advertise the event. It felt like all eyes were on me when I walked on the mat that memorialized my dad and uncle. I got third place out of four in that tournament, and never wrestled again.
I grew up having a love for playing sports, especially baseball. I played football and ran track until my sophomore year, the same year I dropped band and my grades began to slip. I ended up sticking through basketball where I could only play when a team ran a 2-3 zone (I was only good at shooting three point shots) and baseball. I was much smaller and undeveloped which is a big disadvantage in all sports, except wrestling. People said some awful things about me but never once did I let it get to me, I always gave 110%. Someone told my grandma that I had no business being on the basketball court, that I was too small. I played varsity baseball in 8th grade and would play when we either needed a walk, or if we were winning by ten runs. When I went up to the plate one game a lady from the stands asked why the bat boy was hitting. I was always told, "You're too small to play basketball you should wrestle, it's in your blood." Most people who said that were friends, fellow wrestlers, and coaches of my dad. If I let all of those people down it only makes sense that I let my dad down too, so I'm sorry for not carrying tradition.
However, none of the people that pressured me into wrestling didn't care what I went through. They have no idea what it's like being 9 years old and getting pinned twice at the tournament dedicated to their father and uncle.
My childhood was amazing up until my junior year. My mom began dating again, and to my surprise she fell in love. To this day I do like Jamie and his two kids and I wish I would have been more open to them. Once we moved from the town I lived in and loved my entire life things seemed to be going downhill. My grades went from merely perfect to barely passing and my attitude was beginning to shift for the worse. There is one day out of that year that I will never, ever forget.
I was sitting in 2nd period criminal justice class and we came upon the subject of self-defense. My teacher then began telling a story: "This group of boys were bullying this other kid all day and told him they were going to beat him up after school. Well once school was out this group of boys went searching for him and went to the trailer court he lived in. These boys were physically fit and great athletes at this school, so once he saw the car full of guys he was scared for his life so he grabbed a gun. Once the driver came out of the car BOOM! He shot him from the door of his trailer. He was threatened, his life was in danger he was defending himself, so it was a case of self-defense.
In my head I was thinking, "Yeah if they were threatening to kill him, the guy probably deserved it." My thought process was interrupted by my teacher continuing his lecture,
"I think many of you know who this was". Everyone shook their head no, making this story new to the entire class. "Chad Dietze".
My heart pumped so fast, up to this point I didn't hear the entire story but I never thought my dad was the bad guy. Everyone was silent, like God pressed the pause button for a good 10 seconds. He said sorry and ended the lecture. I sat there in disbelief, not saying a word praying for the bell to hurry up and ring so I could get out of that room and breathe. My head was clouded with all these different things I've heard about my dads death and I broke down and cried in front of my entire class and left the room. I went to the guidance counselors office to let him know what was bothering me, and he asked if I'd like my mom to come clear up any confusion I had about the situation. I was ready to hear it, the true story and nothing more so I called her asking to come to the school. She must have sensed something in my voice and didn't ask a single question, instead she replied, "I'll be there in 5 minutes".
Sure enough less than five minutes passed and she walked in with her nursing scrubs, ready to tell me the untold truth..
(continued below)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
