Written by Ivy
|
04 February 2012
George Esper
1932 - 2012
There's a line in a Green Day song I've never understood… until yesterday. The line reads "blinded by the silence of a thousand broken hearts." In an instant it became the beautiful phrase I've ever heard.
My afternoon started with a Facebook message on my phone. The message made my heart skip a beat.
"Ivy, did you hear about George? I just received a message from a reporter at the Uniontown paper that he had passed."
I slowly laid my iPad down on the counter and then dropped the floor. This moment was one I knew was coming but didn't expect quite yet.
"God no! God no! Please no! God no! No! No! No!" I yelled through tears.
I couldn't even look to the sky. It was as it my strength and will were both ripped from my soul at the same time. I took a deep breath and kicked into reporter mode. I had to confirm this for myself. Until I hear it from his son, I wouldn't believe it. George, the man known for his reporting skills and ability to find the truth, wouldn't want me to believe it until I knew for sure.
My phone started chiming. Message after message on twitter, Facebook, email.
"Ivy what do you know?"
"Please tell me this is just a rumor."
"Ivy. I just heard…"
"George! No, this just can't be true!"
As soon as I logged onto my Facebook news feed, I saw post after post reporting the news. I posted that I had heard, but I was trying to confirm it myself.
"I won't believe it until I hear it from his son Tom," I wrote.
I sat at my computer and watched the news feed roll by. I can't actually tell you I saw much more than the words "George" and "dead" and "passed away."
"Dead. George. Those words do not belong in the same sentence," I said to myself.
I picked up the phone and called him. It was the third time I had tried to reach him in less than 24 hours.
"George, it's Ivy," I said through tears. I was trying to be strong, because I knew he was going to hear the message then yell at me for being so sad. "George, I need you to call me back. I'm hearing very bad things and I need to know they aren't true. I love you George. I just need you to call me back."
Time seemed to both stand still and fly by. Eventually, and somehow instantly, I received a message from George's son Tom:
"Hi Ivy, I'm sure you've heard the news but my Dad passed away last night at home. He hadn't been feeling too well and his heart finally gave out."
I felt the floor crumbling under my feet. I could no longer pretend this news wasn't true.
George Esper… my hero… my mentor… my best friend… was no longer here. There would be no more nightly phone calls. There would be no more laughs. There were would be no more dreaming of what was to come.
What remained in this moment were tears. Tears of sorrow. Tears of heartbreak. Tears of memories that suddenly became "long gone."
George changed my life the moment he walked into it. He was a person I admired from afar, but would turn out to be a person who hunted me down to say hello. He was a professor at my alma mater West Virginia University. He quickly took me under his wings, wings so wide that they never ran out of room. He was friend and mentor to many, some I would now come to find out never even got the chance to meet him. He taught me how to tell a story, but even more importantly taught me how to love people. He was even beginning to teach me how to love myself.
I included his official obituary from the Associated Press at the end of this post, so you can read all about his life. When I met George Esper he was the famous Associated Press war correspondent, but very soon that title would disappear and I would know him as friend.
In this moment, I am focused on the things I regret. I regret never having the chance to go see him in Boston one last time. I regret the days in the last two years when I didn't pick up the phone. I regret not being strong enough these last few days to pray more than a few sentences for his health. I regret that I couldn't give him back even a fraction of the love he gave me. Honestly, I'm not sure a dozen lifetimes would even scratch the surface on the amount of the love he gave me from the very first moment we met. George was love. He loved everyone who crossed his path. He had a special ability of making you feel like the most important person in the room, when in fact he himself deserved that title.
George's last words to me were "I love you so much. Good night."
It seems fitting that he then died in his sleep. I am trying to remember those words, but right now all I can remember is not wanting to hang up the phone. I knew he was tired, but I didn't want to hang up the phone.
Last night, I was glued to my iPad. I longed to see every message written about my dear friend. Before I knew it, "George Esper" was trending on Twitter. The man, who I often picked on about his special skill of figuring out how to derail any computer he touched, was now trending on twitter. A man who didn't even know what how to send a tweet or log onto Facebook was now trending on twitter. My dear friend, my best friend, was being remember all over the world online and in the hearts of thousands.
Often the words were few, but the messages spoke so loudly.
"The man who changed my life passed away today. RIP George Esper"
"I'm forever grateful for you George Esper."
"George Esper has died."
As tears filled my eyes, I realized I had just been blinded by the silence of a thousand broken hearts. I watched as the messages filled the screen. We all were one in this moment of brokenness... blinded by the silence of a thousand broken hearts.
* * *
George, I love you so much. I will never, ever forget all of the things you have done for me over the years. I am so honored to call you friend. My life changed forever when you came into it. And my life is changed forever now that you are gone. I'm a better person just for knowing you, George. I'm a better person because you loved me. I don't know how I'm going to move forward, but I know I will because of you. You once told me the hardest words to write are the first. I now know the hardest words to say are the last…
My last words to you were "I love you! I will talk to you soon." Good night dear friend. I love you so much. I can't wait to talk to you again soon!
* * *
See: George's Official obit here.
