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A Portrait of Jonah
REMEBERING A FRIEND |
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By
Jeff Potter
On Aug. 12 at Split Rock Falls in upstate New York, bravery and
friendship were given new meanings. Riptide-like currents killed four
best friends – including one of mine – on a camp trip to a river they
had visited many times before.
In incredible acts of selfless love, Jonah Richman, 18, a Medill
sophomore-to-be, Adam Cohen, 19, and Jordan Satin, 19, died while
trying to save a fourth friend, David Altschuler, 18, who had slipped
and fallen into a 28-foot-deep whirlpool brimming with white water.
The raging water was too much for them to overcome, and it drowned the
four teens, all counselors at Camp Baco in Minerva, N.Y. Cohen was a
student at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, Satin was enrolled at
the University of Colorado-Boulder, and Altschuler was about to be a
freshman at UW-Madison.
As one of Jonah’s closest friends at NU, this tragedy has been, without
a doubt, the most difficult thing I’ve ever grappled with. Death should
not take children before parents, and it should not take friends at
such a young age. Jonah’s legacy lives strong in me and in all who knew
him. The one thing I’ve learned as a result of this is that, however
hard the times are, the least we can do is continue to remember Jonah’s
life.
I take great pride in being able to offer a glimpse into Jonah’s life
for those who were not lucky enough to spend time with him and another
slide show of memories for those who were.
The rabbi at Jonah’s funeral declared: “the mighty has fallen.” These
words shook me at first, and they continue to make me tremble today.
Jonah was mighty. He was one of those special kids that nobody wanted
to let go.
Jeremy Kanefsky, a longtime friend of Jonah and an NU senior, said, “He
was everything to everyone: A trustworthy son. A caring and admirable
older brother. A rock for many. The envy of all.” These words could not
be more accurate.
I only had the opportunity to know Jonah for a year. However, in such a
short amount of time, Jonah positively affected and impressed me in so
many ways. Be it the way he dealt with school, girls, Phi Delta Theta,
or sports, to name a few, he always had a simple and classy way of
handling things. Not classy in a traditional sense, but more in a
“Jonah way” – one that demanded respect through limitless and
completely genuine modesty. He never let anyone know what he thought of
himself. He never spoke of his accomplishments, and he often blushed
when asked about his successes. In school, Jonah never discussed
grades, never complained about his busy schedule and never let the
daily pressures that we all experience get the best of him.
“He was the kind of kid who had so much pride that he could go through
a full night of drinking, end up puking all over his floor, and blame
it on a sandwich he ate 18 hours earlier. He never ate Philly’s Best
again,” said Eric Greenberg, Jonah’s friend and Phi Delt brother. “He
was the kind of guy who didn’t need to do a thing, and every single
person wanted to be his friend.”
Jonah was a true character, someone who always made conversations
interesting and who could always make a friend laugh with just the
right look. Those who knew him well can list their favorite
“Jonah-isms.” Some of mine include the way he carefully pushed his
ever-growing hair back from in front of his eyes to behind his ears
with his pinky fingers.
The way he dressed to play basketball – multicolored headbands,
knee-high argyle socks and high-top shoes that he said were cool
because one of his “really cool” camp friends wore them.
The way he lost his temper during intense videogame sessions, and the
way he would launch the controller at the wall when he lost.
The way he told stories about camp and high school, and how he got so
excited when he talked about his friends from home.
The way his voice would sound when he shouted through his door, “I’ll
be ready in five minutes, Potter” after sleeping though his snooze
button every Tuesday, making us both late for journalism lectures.
The way he got that look in his eyes when he was experiencing good
music, and the way he danced at Phish shows.
And especially the way I was able to respect him like a wise father,
look up to him like a cooler older brother and love him like a best
friend.
“He always went out of his way to make people feel comfortable and make
sure everyone was having the best time possible. He was a genuinely
great person, and that was apparent from the second you met him,”
friend and fraternity brother Frank Myers said. “You could just tell
that he knew the right thing to do and always did it without thinking
twice. He taught us all so much just by how he acted.”
While the period of mourning may never be complete, the NU community
has been extremely supportive in helping heal those who loved Jonah.
“Jonah Jam,” a benefit concert held in October featuring Chicago jam
band Umphrey’s McGee, raised more than $3,000 for “The Baco Boy Fund,”
which helps send underprivileged children to summer camp. Also, several
groups, including Bobb-McCulloch Hall, ASG, RHA, Mayfest, Phi Delta
Theta and Medill, as well as others, have donated to the charity.
I’ve heard that “only the good die young.” I understand that
clichés can be trite and irritating, but when they’re right,
they’re right.
Jonah was good.
Probably the best I’ve ever seen.
I’ll always miss him, but I feel privileged to have gotten the chance
to befriend him.
I know his legacy will never die.
Jeff Potter, who wrote about prospies last year for NUcomment.com, can
be contacted at j-potter@northwestern.edu
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