Next month I will be going to a class reunion. With an upcoming reunion comes an increased desire to reconnect with old friends and even old boyfriends. Michael Robison, who I dated for several years in high school and after, had started coming to mind more and more, so I did my usual Google search. Ever curious about people who have once been a part of my life and are no longer a part, Michael’s name had been searched on more than one occasion over the years, but nothing had ever popped up. I thought that was unusual as computers would be the perfect way to keep filling his mind with information as it has mine. We were very alike in that way. However, I also knew that if he had a big disdain for something that he would avoid it like the plague. For all I knew, he had a dislike for computers, because I certainly had never found him.
My latest search yielded me some results that have left me shocked and shaken. I stumbled across Michael’s obituary. Michael had been killed last November 19th on his way to work by a guy over-correcting after trying to avoid hitting a deer. Michael didn’t have a chance in his Honda Civic against a full-sized truck and was pronounced dead at the scene of massive internal injuries. He was 53. Here is the story. Here is the story in the Terre Haute paper
Now that I knew what to look for, it’s been just like when I get a new car and suddenly I see every car that looks like mine. I find his name and postings everywhere. I have learned a lot about his life since we last saw one another back in 1983.
Mike got married. I believe I met Nancy, his wife-to-be once when I had my 3 kids at the local mall. Mike’s dark hair and beard scared Derek, who was not quite 2 at the time. Instead of concentrating on talking to Mike, I was busy trying to find Derek who was hiding. From that chance meeting, I did get that Mike was going to school. I was happy about that – a mind like Mike’s is a terrible thing to waste – which was one of the reasons why we parted ways.
After that chance meeting at Castleton Square Mall, there was no more contact. His mom died a few years later; I can’t remember what year. I wasn’t comfortable going to her funeral as he was married, so that was a missed opportunity to reconnect.
In recent years, I have reconnected with another mutual friend, John. John hadn’t seen Mike in a few years; another dead end.
Now I know from searches on the internet that Mike loved to read “hardboiled” novels. Don’t ask me what that means, but I think it’s reflective of a genre that’s heavy on intensity. When I knew him he was reading Nietzsche and Sartre and had a very gloomy outlook on life and the basic goodness of people. Nietzsche will do that to you. Apparently that changed and he was led into other activities. He started decorating cakes and apparently was pretty good at cake decorating. He also got into chocolate and actually won Bloomington’s Chocolate Fest in 2006 – one year after getting interested in the craft. He was into stained glass. I seem to remember he did that when I knew him. He became a very proficient rock climber and actually took part in opening an indoor facility in Bloomington. He enjoyed offroading. I don’t find that too weird. He liked both challenges and the opportunity to whoop it up. He was a prolific poster on various discussion lists and was both appreciated for his knowledge and considered annoying because of his knowledge. I don’t find that too hard to imagine. If he thought you were annoying or wrong, he just told you. He could also be polite and respectful. What he didn’t do was hesitate to jump into conversations. When he found his knowledge lacking, he worked at becoming an expert. That quality seemed to amaze his fellow posters. I saw him do it all the time when I knew him. If he didn’t know something and he wanted to know it, he would study that topic until he knew it inside out.
I found a tribute here and wrote the author and found out that while Michael didn’t talk at length about his former life before his job at Crane, they got the idea that he had taken a winding road. If they only knew…
Mike was the father of a lovely daughter who is now attending school in Bloomington. I see her grandmother Adele in her eyes and her father’s big smile on her face.
Michael, whether they knew you as Mike, miker (a name used to distinguish him from all the other Mikes out there), Michael, or Puppet (as he was called in high school), it is clear that many people were touched by your life as I was. I’m so sorry that fate cut your life so short. May you rest in peace.
Here is his memorial