People in my life

I considered Chris Stierle a brother to me (I don't think that I did but I apologize if I spelled his name wrong, but in my defense, when he was called out to graduate from Carroll High School, the principal mispronounced his name, to which we all teased him about, relentlessly. He always gave as much as he got, though, teasing wise). He was one of my best friends. He had such an infectious and genuine laugh. Anything he found funny was followed immediately with that trademark smile and raucous, high pitched, mirthful laughter of his. I have so many fond memories of him but the one that stands out the most was just a ten second interval between him, myself and Johnny Mc.

I could write about how tough he was and how quick he was to throw his hands for whatever we saw fit to fight about, because when it came to heart and courage, you wanted Chris on your side when things went rough. Or I could write about how handsome he was and how mostly all the girls that I knew of, at least, had their own private crush on him. That always makes me smile thinking of Chris being a fellow Irish ginger, he was able to attract the most prettiest girls. When I was a mid-teen, I once had a dream that I was involved with a female that he was dating at the time. I kid you not that I awoke from that dream with my first panicked thought being, “I have to apologize to Chris!!” That was the sway he held over me.

But this story is much simpler, because Chris was a simple kind of person, book smart wise. He had a doctorate in street smarts but school, school was just a hassle. They didn't seem to be teaching us anything useful as it applied to our home lives, being reckless teenagers, so we took their cue and stayed home more and more often. My house became the school for hard knocks, to borrow a phrase, and our attendance was very regular and between 6-15 teens, depending on mitigating factors. Some of us pursued education through different channels, but overall, we all thought we learned all that we needed to already and we were more focused, for God only knows why, on being juvenile delinquents. Chris was notorious, in my eyes, at least, for mispronouncing words. For instance, he once asked me for my “idress”. I asked him what the hell was he talking about. Chris said, “I-dress, the place you live”. I asked him if he meant “address” and he got all pissed off at me and told me something along the lines of “I knew what it was, I was messing with you”, with that huge grin on his face. You couldn't help to just love him and laugh along with him. Cheap, too. We used to play Tecmobowl, an old game on the original Nintendo, and we'd bet each other on the games. I once had Chris owing me $60 but rather than pay, he locked himself up in my bathroom and trying to climb out the second story window and hang jump so to run away until I agreed that he didn't have to pay me all at once. I think I got $20 out of it and that was it. Now, I tell you all that to give you the backdrop of my favorite memory, one of them, Lord, there are so many, but here it goes.

Me, Chris and Johnny Mc were at a mutual friend's house. We were just hanging out, I think we watched Menace II Society for about the 65th time and when it was over, the channel that the TV was tuned in to was broadcasting the Miss Universe beauty pageant. So, being teenage boys, we watched for a while and remarked on how pretty this one or that one was. Now, a real beauty comes on and Chris, who isn't really watching because he was eating or something at the table in the adjoining room, he says, “Wow, she's hot! What universe is she from?” Me and Johnny just froze and looked over at him, smiles already forming on our lips. Chris looks up at us and realizes his mistake immediately and, knowing we are going to laugh so hard at him, corrects himself with great speed, blurting out, “I mean which planet!” All threes of us started crying with laughter. He initially had the panic-stricken look on his face and it's turning a bright red because he knows what's coming next only to attempt to right his wrong with another wrong. We laughed for the rest of the night. We'd get to doing or talking about something else and I would ask Chris, “what universe was that girl from?” And we'd start laughing again. He didn't get mad at stuff like that. Well, he did a little, but that just made it funnier.

He was a devoted family man. He grew up with his cousins and his brother and they were a very tight family. He loved his children. I have faith that he loves them, still, and watches over them. Chris's soul is indistinguishable, and it shows in his children.

Another incident involving Chris comes to mind. God, he was so much fun. In 1993, pretty much our glory days, there was this terrible ice storm that just lasted what felt like the whole winter. All the pavements were pure ice. About 15 of us are hanging out, in the ice, on Trenton Ave, on the step next to the pizza shop. We were probably drinking beer because I remember someone jumping out at the corner and all of us having to run. You never knew what could happen at any moment. Somebody may have been standing on the corner throwing ice balls at people or something and two car loads of dudes jump out of the car. I'm pretty sure that's what happened. So, anyway, we all start running North on Trenton Ave towards Huntington and it's an ice rink. Every man is for himself. But not Chris. Chris somehow can't find his footing and has grabbed on to Jerry Sharkey, who himself is trying to get away and saying, get the frig off me Chris! But no, not Chris, he clutches and grabs until Jerry drags them both to the relative safety of turning the corner. But no, not Chris. Somehow, after we turned the corner, Chris throws Jerry to the ground, runs by him and says, “Thanks!” Somebody stopped to help Jerry up and he gave Chris some crap about it but we all saw the humor in it more than anything. We summed it up as that's who Chris was at that time. You could help him get to where he needs to go and then he's done with you, but we loved him so what could you do. We laughed so hard afterwards.

Telling this story reminds of how bad of a lookout he was. He would stand looking forward but shuffling back and forth saying, “They're coming! No, that's not them. That's them!! No, no it's not.” One of us would have to rip him away and lookout because he would drive us crazy! That was all part of his charm, though. He was considered one of our leaders, I guess you can say. He meant a lot to me. I can remember arguing with him now and again but I always tried to not fight my friends, although it did happen once or twice. To me, Chris seemed to be ahead of the curve. He was only a year or two older than me, but, just like my own brother, Joey, they seemed more adult or mature. And, God, so many good memories that just bring smiles to my face thinking of them all.

Chris's brother, Tommy, I knew from Conwell middle school, and it would be no exaggeration for me to rightfully claim that Tommy wouldn't have passed half of his classes during our time in Conwell because he cheated off me every chance he got. A 7th grade social studies teacher once made the mistake of giving pop quizzes and letting the classmates at the table mark each other's papers. Me and Tommy always sat together so we would always exchange papers. Needless to say Tommy always got an 80 no matter if he got 3 right or 6 right because he never got all 10 right, he'd be lucky to get 5 right sometimes, and I would always get a 70 or 80 because all mine were right but damn if he didn't want me to be better than him at anything, even if I had a perfect paper. But it was all good. Tommy and Chris were my brothers. I was so lucky to have such good friends.

A story about Tommy would either involve alcohol and/or violence, another reason to be glad the Stierle brothers were on your side. But this story is almost completely opposite. About 10-12 of us stopped going to school right around 10th grade. Why we stopped going is another story, but as the years went by my family moved from Cumberland and Tulip streets to right around the corner from K&A. So I moved further from most of my friends but it just so happened that Tommy and Chris lived only a few blocks from me, so they became my regular students. Chris eventually went back so Tommy would come and bang on my door in the morning until I woke up to let him in and then go back to bed. I'd get up around noon, come down, make some food and just as school was letting out we'd walk down to Hagert or Pop's playground or Amber and York so we could meet up with the rest of the crew.

One day we were walking down, and it's about a mile walk, so we're 10 minutes from my house and almost an hour away from the neighborhood. We, well I guess I, I notice a black kid and Hispanic kid, about our age, and the Hispanic kid is shouting all this racial stuff. So I say to Tommy, “What did he say to us?”, and Tommy just like, “I don't think he was talking to us.” Now, I was a little bit of a wild youth, I was racist, and I always had a chip on my shoulder, especially when it came to respect.

I have to stop here for a second and put this in context. We learned racism. It was sort of inherited. But those days belong in the past, if they belong anywhere at all. We are all human beings at the end of the day. We all require basic needs to be met and our only difference is the presence of pigmentation in the DNA of those who have it to the ones who don't. I advocate tolerance and nonviolence and I am proud that I could change, so I did. And I do.

But I did not then. I yelled something provoking to the guys and started an argument. They seemed to be down and I loved throwing fists but I notice the lighter skinned spanish kid was moving quicker towards me and he went in his pocket and pulled out something shiny. I calculated the odds, thinking that Tommy was standing behind and he always has a weapon of so e sort so we're still on even ground. I yelled for them to come on and I start putting my hands up. The kid with the shiny object in his hand stops before me and I can see tears in his eyes and he's saying you really want to do this while his friend is trying to calm him down. That's when I looked at what he was holding and realized that it was a small gun. So I peek behind me, hoping beyond hope that Tommy is standing there with a gun or knife, anything. Tommy is halfway up the block running backwards, yelling, “Come on, asshole!”

I turn back to the two dudes and I think I said to them, “You guys are lucky.” I start running as fast as I can and catch up to Tommy and I said to him, “Where did you go, dude.”

He says, “I saw the gun as soon as he pulled it out. I told you to let's go but you kept acting like an idiot so I left you there.”

We both started laughing and I started yelling taunts behind us and we're just running and laughing and we look back and they are sprinting at us. We were both like, OH Shit! We took off and made it to the neighborhood safely within 15 minutes. Tommy said to me, “you should do shit like that more often, you can use the exercise, fat ass.” The gravity set in and we laughed hysterically. That was a crazy day.

I dedicate this Chris’s kids and Tommy’s mom and family. This wasn’t all of who they were, but just what I can remember right now. They were true brothers. There will be more to come and any support will be appreciated.