Message from a Friend
Josh Guimond: Roommate.
Mock Trial co-captain. Tripartite Chancellor of the Illuminati. Brilliant
student of the law. Fellow band geek. Shrewd politician. A young man with
the brightest of futures. All of these, to me, describe Josh Guimond, one of
the best friends for whom a person could ever ask. I will think of him in
all of these capacities, and many more, until his return, which will be the
greatest day of my life.
I
met Josh my sophomore year at St. John’s, his first year at our beloved
institution. After beginning to fulfill a dream of mine by starting a Mock
Trial program on campus, Josh and I met at the first informational meeting I
held about the activity. He quickly impressed me with his intelligence,
humor, wit, work ethic and outstanding “mock” abilities. We became friends,
spending much of our spare time (as if we really had any) together.
Josh’s capabilities
impressed me so much, that I, despite being one who fears the delegation of
any important task, made him a co-captain of the team for the next season.
He ran, among many other aspects, the financial side of the Mock Trial
program; I was again pleased with his efforts. The program flourished. Our
team, which we ran together, finished second out of 20 teams in our regional
tournament and in the top 20 out of 440 teams nationwide. Many of our
opponents were well-established programs with strong institutional support.
We, in contrast, had Josh. We won.
Our relationship in our
second year as friends led quickly to a closer friendship, an indestructible
bond. We would rant about the foibles of our mock competition, strategizing
deep into the night even during what we considered leisure time. We would
rave about the fallacies of many a liberal political argument. We argued
over the relative merits of various Wind Ensemble pieces, perhaps the truest
sign of nerdery. (Thankfully, after much rancor, he agreed with me that
Festival Variations is truly an all-time great). We discussed our dreams:
mine, to become an attorney, perhaps a US Attorney; his, to serve in the
Legislature of the Great State of Minnesota. Rather than asking what drew us
together as friends, people were more likely to wonder if we were in any way
different.
This year, our close
friendship continued with a bit of a twist: we were now roommates. Our
living situation, predictably enough, only drew us closer together. We now
did nearly everything, it seemed, together. The hours we spent theorizing in
the mock sense skyrocketed, a feat few would believe possible given the vast
quantities of time devoted to the topic the previous year. Our teams started
the year off beautifully; Josh could not have been happier. Each of our
three teams finished in a tie for first at the Hamline Invitational, our
first tournament. Josh, not surprisingly, was named an Outstanding Attorney
for the tournament. After consolidating to two teams for our next
tournament, Josh and I remained on separate teams in order to help those
with less mock experience. Both teams did very well at the tournament
against some exceedingly difficult competition. Finally, we changed the
teams around in the manner we believed would make us most able to meet our
ultimate mock goal: a national championship. It is an understatement to say
that things were looking good on the horizon of the realm of mock, a sphere
of life so beloved by Josh.
Everything was falling into
place for Josh until November 9, 2002. I was with Josh earlier that evening.
We went to supper; afterwards, he and a friend went to his room to
socialize; I retreated to my room to work on a paper. I, of course, could
not help but to walk across the hall on a few occasions to chat with the two
of them; they were both in cheerful spirits. Last year, thanks to Josh, I
became a part of a wonderful new circle of friends, with all of whom I
remain friendly. With some of them I became extremely close. To Josh I owe
so many friendships. I went to visit some of the friends I had made through
Josh that evening. As I left the room, he and his friend accompanied me down
the stairs. They were going to smoke some rather expensive cigars, which
Josh had procured the previous weekend at our Mock Trial tournament. He
certainly enjoys the finer things in life. When we arrived outside our
apartment door, I (as is my prudish nature) refused a cigar, but stayed and
conversed with the two of them for a few minutes. Then, I left to go to see
some other friends; of course, they are Josh’s friends as well. At about
8:30, I left Josh; I have not seen him since.
The events that occurred
just hours after I last saw Josh remain unclear; whatever happened has been
the source of an unimaginable amount of anguish to so many people. Josh was
last seen leaving a small gathering of friends late that evening or very
early the next morning. He began the short walk back to St. Maur House, our
home. He never returned to his room. We do not know why; we can only venture
the most painful guesses of our lives. An exhaustive search of the massive
St. John’s campus has turned up very little evidence pointing to Josh’s
location. We do not know where he is or why he is there.
What we do know, though, is
the extent to which human beings can be truly good. The response of the St.
Ben’s and St. John’s communities, the local citizenry, and even the nation
have been nothing short of amazing. Whether it be students skipping classes,
even test, to help in the search, or people from across the nation who have
experienced similar situations calling to offer their support, the response
has been utterly phenomenal. For this, I cannon even begin to express my
gratitude.
For the response of friends
and family, we owe an infinite debt. To see people come together from the
many walks of Josh’s life, in a common cause to which we all give our
unending support, has been the force necessary to keep us all from
collapsing in the face of unrelenting doubt and fear. Sharing both laughter
and tears has been an essential part of dealing with crisis; without each
other, our lives would have turned from awful, even hellish, to utterly
unbearable.
Through the uncertainty
that shrouds the lives of so many, one fact remains clear: when Josh finally
does return home, he will be welcomed with the open arms of friends more
grateful than anyone could ever imagine.
