Friendship, community, and contribution.
I stared at my phone completely dumbfounded last night while getting ready for bed.
At the top of my feed I saw a photo of my friends out skiing, but standing still, cheesing for the camera. "Cute, I remember that photo" I thought to myself before almost clicking away entirely. I'd been focused on doing one last thing before calling it a night, but then I got stuck trying to understand the words in the caption. Immediately, I noticed the tone was off. It didn't match the photo at all, and I started searching for why.
That's V and there's Max. Right, ok. And V posted this? When, today?
"I thought I’d share these memories to help us all feel close to Max during this tough day" she'd written in the caption.
Fuck.
Oh no, something happened...
I started to register that the words were describing something bad, but I couldn't understand. Did someone get hurt? Was there an avalanche? I kept reading, possibilities running through my brain.
It was the next line that did it—scared the shit out of me.
"We love you Max ❤️ you were one of the first friends I made in Jackson 10 years ago"
Were??
What do you m—
No... no way. C'mon, WHAT?
There’s no good way to get bad news. Mouth hanging open, I put my phone down and just sat there completely stunned. I went searching online for more info, trying to prove myself wrong.
Surely I'm misunderstanding something.
It wasn't until this morning that headlines appeared beyond the social media sphere. Like this one from POWDER, RIP Max Martin: Jackson Hole Community Mourns Beloved Skier.
Today, 2,000 miles away from Jackson, I drove through Vermont's backroads feeling very, very far away from the only community that's ever felt like home. It got me thinking a lot about people and what kinds of things make a community feel like that. So many people came to mind, but I started smiling when a memory of Max popped up.
It was back when we'd run in similar circles, but didn't know each other all that well yet. I'd been in a bit of a pickle—the night before a snowboard competition, I'd realized the rules had changed and athletes were now required to wear back protectors or they couldn't compete. It'd been optional before, and I didn't have one.
So I started texting friends, frantically looking to see if anyone would lend me theirs.
Max and I had recently started training at the same gym more regularly with some mutual friends, but it was still kind of a long shot to ask. When I did, he responded immediately.
"Sure, no problem. Come by whenever!"
I actually don't remember much about the comp itself, but I still remember Max smiling big and asking me about it when I'd gone to return his back protector. And how he'd flash that same smile to friends around the mountain, wanting to know what they'd skied, and was it good??
It was impossible not to smile back.
Still driving, I felt myself shaking my head. But I was also grinning, and I think it's pretty cool that being friends with Max still means smiling back.
We'll miss you, buddy.
Catch you on the next lap.
Our Daily MAP Year Prompt
142/365
Tell your friends you love them.
onward.
P.S. Thanks for letting me write a little more and go a little longer today. If you’re able, there’s a fundraiser to help bring Max home from Japan and support his wife, Eliza.
If you know someone who'd appreciate this, pass it along. And if something stuck with you while reading, I'd love to know what it was. To learn about BUDS and The MAP Year Project, keep reading.
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