My Hero

"Always remember there is nothing worth sharing like the love that let us share our names."

- - - The Avett Brothers, "Murder in the City" - - -

I had the joy, pleasure, and extreme misfortune of meeting this person upon my arrival of my first year at NC State University. In the middle of making lofted beds for my future roommate and I, a sandy haired zombie walked into my doorway. In my rush to build the groundwork for my future room, I didn't take note of the fact some people might have arrived the night before. I definitely didn't think that someone would be asleep. I certainly didn't think that I had awoken the sleeping giant that would soon become my best friend.

Chris Yoder was a man of many things. He was passionate about life, more so than I have ever seen replicated in anyone else I have been blessed enough to meet. He was ambitious and motivated. He was devoted to his loved ones.

Most importantly, he was devoted to the people with whom he surrounded himself every day: his friends.

To be in the pantheon that was his inner circle was no easy task. His friendship was certainly not given out freely, yet earned through the course of multiple interactions. Once you earned his respect, however, it was very tough for it to be lost. His loyalty to those closest to him was at a level higher than most. For that, I respect him.

Fast forward a couple years from outside the concrete dungeon that was Bowen Hall. Our friendship had grown to where he became one of my closest friends. We saw each other rarely but it was always a wonderful reunion whenever the time came. He always made the time to see you.

See the thing about my friend Yoder that makes him so heroic, to me, is his undying passion for life and the unrelenting desire to spend it with those closest to him. Is this a glorified tale of our relationship? Probably. Ours was not without days where I didn't want to see him, days he didn't want to see me, arguments that we had, fights we almost had, and some other rough patches along the way. But those days always got resolved in the simplest of ways: over a beer, like men.

When I look back though, I find solace in those times. Those were the times where I knew that our relationship transcended the normal boundaries of friendship. In a way, Chris Yoder was less a best friend and more a brother. He was definitely more of a man than I am to this day, and probably ever will be. For that, I admire him.

There were many times where our friendship has lead me to the innermost depths of my own consciousness. On different occasions it sent my entire existence cascading toward the brink of reality, careening into the boundary of this plane and the next, diving headlong into oblivion. Only, I'd never reach it. He was there, always there, to throw out the lifeline and reel me back in, right when I needed, in only ways that he could.

He had the unique ability to be above everything and never allowed himself to be caught up in the things that normal people would. He lusted after life and met the challenge of seizing each day and making it his own. For that, I am jealous. For that, I miss him.

"There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. A high-powered mutant of some kind, 

never even considered for mass production. To weird to live, and too rare to die."

- - - Hunter S. Thompson, "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" - - -

My last memory of my friend Yoder is one that I will cherish for the rest of my life. Most people when they lose a loved one rarely get the chance to have a decent good-bye or memory before it happens. 

We are standing in our usual meeting spot on the grounds of Centeroo. I am facing What Stage, he is facing This Tent. We look at each other. He sticks out his hand and says, "bobble head after Primus?" I raise my arm up, give him probably the most memorable high-five/handshake of our relationship and say, "bobble head after Primus." He turns and heads off into the crowd. 

It would be the last time I'd ever see my friend, my brother. On June 12, 2011, less than two days later, his journey in life ended.

I've thought long and hard about what life might be like had things gone differently that night. Rarely does a day pass by that I don't miss my best friend and brother. I find comfort in the fact that I know somewhere out there in the ether that surrounds us, he's chuckling, cracking that Charlie Brown mischievous smile of his and watching over his friends, making life hard on them to keep them humble, but also providing support on those days they need it most. For that, I love him.

Simply, he was always destined to go far in life, that much no one can deny. But in his determination to achieve his goals he simply covered the distance much faster than anyone, including he, could have expected. I had five years with him. To those of you reading this who had a lifetime of memories, I envy.

Christopher William Yoder taught me more about myself in those few short years than anyone else combined. More than that, he was by far one of the most admirable souls that I ever had the pleasure of meeting. He was caring. He was honest. He was one of the few people who refused to be tied down by societal woes, who seized life by the short hairs everyday and had his way with the world. He truly occupied his time here to the fullest and taught me to do the same. 

For that, I am grateful.

For that, he is my hero.

"You owe it to yourselves to not be cheated, or shortchanged, by believing merely the myth.

Understand that his road and his methods were his and only his. There are those of you who,

based on his journeys and the mad stories that surround his life and memory, the excess and

wild rantings of his lifestyle, might think that he was simply some hedonistic lunatic or, as he

always put it, "a dopeless hope fiend." I promise you, he was not. He was a southern gentleman,

all chivalry and charm. He was a hilarious and rascally little boy. A truth seeker. He was a

hypersensitive medium who miraculously channeled the underlying current of truth buried

in lies that we have become accustomed to believing.

He was without question the most loyal and present friend I have ever had the honor of knowing.

I am privileged to have belonged to the small fraternity of people in his life who were allowed

to see more than most. He was elegance personified. I miss him. I missed him when he was alive.

But, dear friend, I will see you again."

- - -  Johnny Depp, "A Pair of Deviant Bookends; an introduction on Hunter S. Thompson" - - -