My Phone Doesn’t Ring As Much Anymore

The year was 2003.

I was turning 22 years old on September 10th, and I had no idea how memorable it was about to become. The day had come and gone, and I couldn’t even tell you what I did, how I felt, or my general mood of feeling about how my birthday had gone that day. It was probably a day like any other. But aronud 8:45pm, that changed.

My cell phone rang, and it was a number not stored in my phone from an area code I did not recognize. Hesitantly, I answered:

“Hello?”
“Hi can I speak to Jason?”
“This is Jason.”
“Oh hey! I just wanted to call and wish you a happy birthday man.”
“Thanks….who is this?”
“I gotta go. Bye!”
-click-

I was baffled. I called the number back but it went to voicemail and I didn’t recognize the name in the greeting. I went to my desktop computer (this was a time before the prevalence of smart phones, but not before Yahoo search was hot on the scene) and searched for the area code. Somewhere in New York. I don’t know anyone in New York. Before I could finish my investigation, my phone rings again. Different area code, somewhere new.

“Hello?”
“Hey Jason happy birthday!”
“Who is this and how did you know it’s my birthday?
-click-

Area code shows up in Yahoo as Seattle, Washington. Phone rings again.

“Hello?”
“Happy birthday man!”
“Who are you and where are you calling from?

I managed to keep this one on the phone a bit longer but he still managed to dodge my questions. While we were talking, another number tries to call, and I let it go to voicemail. I give up on that call and go to listen to my voicemail. While I’m listening to another birthday wish, another call beeps in so I take it. I become immediately overwhelmed and overrun with phone calls and voicemails. My phone battery, which is usually a trooper, starts to slip to the bottom of the barrel. I’m forced to plug it in next to my bed and I’m glued to the wall as I try my best to keep up with the flood of calls coming in. At the peak of this endeavor, I have a total of 7 voicemails and 23 missed calls on my phone. It seemed like it was never going to end. I clamored to get tidbits of information from each caller to figure out what set off this avalanche of phone explosion I can’t seem to escape.

Finally, one reveals:

“How did you get my number?” (I asked through broken laughter.)
“Your brother loves you a lot, man.”
“Nick did this?!!”
“I said too much! I gotta go!”

Finally, I have a source! My older brother, who was in his second year at the US Naval Academy as a midshipman, had gone into wherever students were hanging out and put my phone on a bulletin board with instructions to call me and wish me a happy birthday.

I called him immediately and he tried for about 2 seconds to deny it. It was hilarious. I’ll never forget that night. It stuck with me forever, and each birthday, I remember how loved I felt at that moment.

Nick had a way of doing that for people, making them feel loved. It was remarkable.

On June 7, 2010, I received another phone call. This time it was from Nick’s wife, informing the family that he had just been in a terrible accident, and the U-Haul truck he was driving had a tire blow out, and the vehicle flipped across the median on the interstate and struck another vehicle traveling in the opposite direction. Nick didn’t make it.

The toughest pill to swallow was the notion of Nick not being invincible. He had just come home 6 months earlier from his second combat deployment as a Marine Corps Infantry Officer, and his second tour was the most dangerous deployment the Marine Corps had experienced since the Vietnam War. His battalion suffered a casualty rate of over 60% during that 7-month deployment, and he was lucky to be alive. He always seemed so unstoppable to me.

My phone doesn’t ring as much anymore. Sometimes it feels a little empty without him, and days like today I remember what a gift it was to have him so close to me in my life for 27 years. My life wouldn’t have been the same without him in it. And I know there are many others that could say the same.