Be who you needed when you were younger.
Bryan Pack (center) flanked by childhood and lifelong friends.
I first met Bryan Pack in the sixth grade. He was wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and an opened button-down shirt. He was tall, modest, and soft-spoken. He was not overtly extroverted or vociferous as others in our class, so I started a conversation. Instant friendship.
I worried for my new friend who would doodle during class instead of focusing on the lesson. Certainly he could draw, but test time was going to sink him. Flunking, he would be ejected from the advanced classes leaving me friendless. One day after school, I went to his house to discover it full of amazing projects. Bryan covered the walls with drawings that looked more like photographs than drawings. He built an exact replica of Doctor Who’s TARDIS from cardboard boxes complete with circuitry for flashing lights and switches. His mother fed us while Bryan introduced me to his complete collection of Garfield books. Hilarious! We laughed over and over and over.
Another evening at Bryan’s house, I noticed that his Dad wasn’t home. I asked about his Dad, but he wouldn’t answer. He never answered that question for me. Later, another friend told me that his Dad died when Bryan was seven years old. He seemed okay. I never asked again.
Test day came. I began the test with focus, precision, preparation, and speed. Bryan, however, slouched in his desk, made marks on the paper with disinterest, and turned in his paper first. Oh brother, this was a bad sign. I foresaw the beginning of the end for my friend. The following day, the teacher handed back the tests marked with red ink. Glancing over to Bryan’s desk, the only red on his paper was the number at the top -- “100”.
So it was with Bryan, class after class. Year after year. Art - easy. Academics - child’s play. Guitar – simple. Puppetry - a passion. Programming - self-taught in multiple languages. Trying to be like Bryan, the only thing that I could emulate was his fanciful handwriting that stood tall and leaned rightward. Forty years later, this is still my handwriting. However, I have failed trying to emulate my talented friend’s skills of art, guitar, programming, or anything else.
We stayed in contact over the years. Occasionally, we met for coffee, lunch, or chatted by phone. When starting MedStreet, Bryan offered to help. He wanted to support the mission, update his resume, and reenter the workplace. Bryan helped to launch the first fundraising campaign for MedStreet on February 14th. After a successful launch, we began discussing a design for next year’s Valentine’s Day campaign. But we suddenly lost contact. No return calls. No return emails.
On March 15th, the news of Bryan’s death arrived in my Inbox. My blood turned cold, hairs stood on end, and the world stopped spinning. A phone call confirmed the news. Great potential left a world that desperately needs him.
Bryan Pack’s Facebook banner reads, “Be the person you needed when you were younger.” Bryan did not have the opportunity to be the person that he needed to his own little someone. Yet, he loved the rest of us without reservation.
I accept that I cannot draw like Bryan, cannot learn as fast as Bryan, cannot program like Bryan, cannot play guitar like Bryan, or even write as fancifully as Bryan.
Yet, I still strive to love people as well as Bryan Pack (11/19/1968 – 3/15/2020).
Raymond Kenneth Pack and Bryan Kenneth Pack
Bryan Pack self-portrait
Bryan Pack tree study
Bryan Pack and his mother Patsy Pack Long at Emmanuel United Methodist Church in Burlington, N.C.