You know what they say about not actually appreciating something until you've lost it? I think the same can be said for people. As much as we take our friends and family for granted and expect to wake up the next morning and know they're fine, it's not always a safe assumption.

I got a call last Monday night from my editorand he said that one of our photographers, Randy, had died committed suicide. It didn't hit me hard that night. I was shocked and upset, but nothing serious. Actually, that's not the right way to say it. It was serious, but I don't think that it had truly hit me the way it did a lot of people.

I'm not an emotional guy when it comes to things like that. One of my buddy's best friends killed himself about five years ago. Before that, two friends I had in school were killed seperately. My entire family is dead from some cause or another. So I'm not shocked by death as much as some people.

Going to work the next day, things were extremely awkward to say the least. No one really knew what to say or how to approach the subject. So we all kind of talked around the issue. For a bunch of people who's job involved communication, we were doing the opposite. Our newspaper staff is so tight that we're almost like a family. When something as tragic and shocking as this happens, it's hard to adjust and cope with it.

I almost felt like the callice one of the whole bunch. I had known Randy for close to five years. He helped me get the job I have and really went to bat for me numerous times. And I was walking around fairly stoic about the whole situation. I didn't talk much about what I felt because I really didn't feel anything.

I walked back to the photo lab the day after everyone found out and everything was sitting at his desk like it was normal. I could almost picture him sitting there looking on the Internet for something to do in between assignments. Nothing had been touched. It was kind of serene actually.

But what do you do in a situation like that? It's just so damn awkward for everyone involved that you don't know what to say. "It'll be okay." "We'll move past this." "He was a good man." All of these things can be said, but what do they mean? It's like we're going through the motions. We all knew what kind of a guy he was. At times, he was a pain to work with and you felt like punching him in the face. And other times, you would do anything he asked. There was no one like him up there.

About a day after I found out was when it really began to hit me. I finally began to realize that I would go upstairs every morning, expecting his laughter and his jokes, and he wouldn't be there. And the business can't stop. News doesn't stop for no person, so we had to move on. So we were all talking about how to divide up his assignments. And that's when it finally sunk in that he was gone.

Since then, I haven't slept at night very well. And it's not one thing in particular. But there's just that feeling hanging over my head. And to tell you the truth, I've never had this problem before. I've dealt with death before. But it's never been like this.

But I know Randy would not want any of us sitting around feeling sorry for ourselves or for him. He'd want us out therer doing what we do best. And in a way, writing this is kind of my measure of peace. It's been more than a week since everything happened. It is time to move on. But there was something I had to do before I could. I'm not one to talk about my feelings in a situation like that. But talking about it on here will hopefully let me move on.

Thanks Randy for the great times and the wonderful advice.