The other day we were discussing old friends who had found us on MySpace or FaceBook or other social networking sites and how we were either glad that someone had found or more than often not found us. But it got me thinking about a couple of guys that I used to pal around with in elementary school and wondering what ever happened to them.

I started thinking about my friend Roger Hittle. Roger lived in the the same neighborhood as I did and we went to the same elementary school till sixth grade. Roger had cystic fibrosis a disease that attacks the lungs and pancreas. If you’ve never known someone with cystic fibrosis you need to know that a person with this disease has an inordinate amount of mucus that gets generated by the body and you are constantly coughing it up and feeling like you are on the edge of drowning.

As kids in the 3rd and 4th grade, I was one of the few people who actually called Roger a friend. Most kids at that age simply were mean and nasty and wanted nothing to do with that goofy looking kid. I thought was proud to call him one of my best friends.

I remember going over to his house, playing games, riding our bikes, sneaking a look at a dirty magazine, and just doing those things that boys will do at that age. Roger and I were in the same scout troop together and would share a tent when ever we went camping. Roger’s dad who was in the army would get us MREs for us. For those few years he and I were nearly inseparable.

Roger was keenly aware of the statistics regarding his own life span, even at that age. At the age of nine he already knew that he had lived four years longer than doctors had told his parents to expect. With that fact burned in to his brain he lived each day to it’s fullest. Never once dwelling on his own potential death, he made sure that he was happy.

Roger and his family moved out of the neighborhood the summer of sixth grade if I remember correctly. I think it was because they were renting the house they were living in and were able to buy a house in West Sacramento. I visited Roger once after he moved. I spent the night at his new house and I remember it fondly as it was the first time I saw Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. That was the last time I ever saw Roger. With the two of us living nearly 15 miles apart going to different schools we simply drifted, as friends will.

Years later, after I moved to Michigan I Google’d Roger and found an e-mail address for him. To my complete shock he was alive and well in Las Vegas. If you knew Roger, well, that was a perfect fit for him. We traded a few e-mails and even a phone call. But again, we drifted.

With the rise of the social networking sites I decided to see what Roger was up to. A search on both MySpace and FaceBook didn’t turn up anything. Now though, a search on Google didn’t reveal his e-mail address, it instead revealed this tribute video put together by his family. Roger passed away some time after he turned 30. 25 years longer than doctors had originally given him.

As I sit here trying to fight back the tears, I don’t know what clever and witty thing to say other than I think that in the video, that’s Roger and I swimming in the public pool together.

Roger, I’ll miss you buddy.