For the next few years my best friend continued to land himself in jail numerous times.

I got used to accepting collect calls on the holidays and my birthday from him.

Letters arrived in the mailbox every other day of the week.

I however, continued to stand by his side and be there for him when he needed me.

He was in and out for various reasons.

A drug charge here, theft and even burglary.

But there I was, right by his side every damn time.

When he dropped out of high school……there I was.

I think the reason I stood by him through it all was because I knew I was the only one who really was there for him.

His parents were anything but a positive role model.  If they weren’t sitting there smoking dope with him, they were doing it by themselves or trying to find a way to score some.

Not only were his parents having a negative impact on him, his older brother was doing just the same.

I knew I was all he really had after hearing his mother yell at him over and over and over again for getting into trouble and how he was useless.

I heard her blame him every time he screwed up and never once apologize to him for not being a parent to him.

There was no way I could walk away from him.

He needed to know that someone, anyone was going to be there to help pick him back up when he needed it.

I was determined to be that person.

In between his stints in jail, we would spend time together when we could.

Whenever I had a car available, I would drive the 20 minutes to go see him.

Towards the end of Summer in 1997, a friend of his and his family let him move in with them in hopes to help him get on the right path.

We continued to spend time together and I was happy that he was finally making a life for himself.

He had a roof over his head.

A ‘family’ that loved him.

A job.

Great friends.

And me.

Things were going great.

That all changed with one phone call on October 20,1997.