Facebook is My High School Obituary Section Now

RIP

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I logged onto Facebook the other day and saw that Big Joe died.

Big Joe was a high school friend. I hadn’t talked to him in years, but he just so happened to reach out to me a few weeks ago. We chatted on Messenger - nothing big, just saying what’s up, sharing life updates. And a few weeks later, he’s dead. I found out by people from high school posting late 90s/early 00s photos of Big Joe and the crew. Blurry photos of kids in baggy jeans, holding cigarettes and cans of Bud Ice. Suburban Dallas circa early 2000s - you had to be there.

This scenario has happened several times in the past few years. Someone from high school dies. People from high school post those photos. It seems I’m the only one who doesn’t have any of those photos. And they’re always just a little blurry, as memories should be.

It gives the impression that almost everyone from high school is dead. But that’s not true - it’s just that I have more close friends from high school who are dead than I have close friends from adult life who are alive. Such is life.

I did the morbid count of how many high school friends died before Big Joe. After David died last year, I counted eight. So Big Joe made nine. Damn.

I was taken aback by David because he got out of prison about three years prior and seemed to be doing well. Had a job, shared photos of him and his daughter pretty often, posted interesting philosophical views about religion and the occult. I’d comment on those posts, and it was like a little throwback to when we were kids and got high talking about similar subjects, not knowing what we were talking about, but pretending we did.

And then one day, I log onto Facebook and he’s dead.

“Sad news,” his sister wrote in a post. “David passed away. We will miss him so much. He was a loving father, son, brother, and friend.”

I scroll down and several of the next posts are people from high school sharing old high school photos, always similar, like all we did was smoke cigarettes and drink Bud Ices at people’s houses. I guess that’s not far from the truth.

Maybe I was more taken aback by David because only two months before him, Peter died. That was a really quick 1-2. Peter also had gotten out of prison fairly recently, but didn’t post much. His brother Paulie did, though, and that’s how I had an idea about what he was up to - construction gigs and a tattoo side hustle. And then one day, I log onto Facebook and he’s dead.

“RIP to my big bro,” Paulie posted. “I know we had our differences, but it was nothing but love. I love you, bro.”

More posts with more old photos from various people. I feel like I’m the only one without a stash of those photos somewhere. I save the ones I’m in and feel kind of narcissistic for that.

Why so much death? Kind of an old story lately. I have a high school friend I am still in touch with in real life and who is still in touch with everyone else in real life too. He’s my go-to guy for these questions. I asked him what happened to Peter, and then to David. Both times he told me the same thing: Fentanyl, man.

Again.

The year before David and Peter, Karl died. As is the social media custom, he appeared to be doing well, too. He had a few kids, posted his artwork, seemed to be in shape and happy. And then one day, I log onto Facebook and see those blurry photos. I didn’t have to read the remembrance posts.

I asked my friend on the inside what happened: Fentanyl, man.

But it hasn’t always been fentanyl. During the very beginning of the Covid lockdowns, Harris was shot to death while breaking into somebody’s house. He was a softy, and might have changed some since I knew him, but I doubt it. He was just in a bad frame of mind and made a stupid decision.

His ex-wife, whom he had two kids with, made the announcement.

“Harry was a beautiful person in so many ways….”

More old photos. He always looked younger than he was.

Jenna died from alcohol poisoning. She was beautiful and wasn’t a big partier in high school, so I was surprised when I saw that.

Her best friend broke the news.

“I will miss you so so sooooo much…”

More old photos. Some of them were from an outdoor music festival we went to that I hadn’t thought about in years.

Katie died from cancer. That one came with warning, but to see someone so young go like that just shocks. She had a statement ready and it came from her account.

“I’m at peace. Thank you for your love…”

More old photos. I forgot how tall she was.

Scott was murdered in a drug deal that went sideways - made the local news and the assailants were convicted but got a suspiciously light sentence. He was one of the smartest and funniest in our group, so to see him go like that was utterly strange and out of character. I’m friends with his mom on Facebook and she posts old photos of him regularly. The mourning will never end.

“Until I see you again…”

Every year on his birthday, the old photos get shared. And every year, it seems there are new old photos. Everybody loved him.

There have been more. Lisa died in a car accident. Dirk decided it was his time to go. Maurice OD’d, not fentanyl-related.

All were announced on Facebook. All came with old photos, a little blurry, a little light reflection.

Big Joe is the latest. Some of the photos of him are newer. He was around a little more. Still hung out with the old crew, or what’s left of it. He hardly changed. Bud Ice changed to Shiner Bock, nothing much else. But it’s the old photos that get the most likes and shares. I can wax philosophical about why that is, but I don’t think it’s that deep: they were taken before everyone started dying.

But I don’t want to end this on a sad note. I want to say something wise and life-affirming. Pretend I did.