A Eulogy
With a swift motion and a noisy clearing of his throat, the solemn bunkroom silented, their attention turned to their leader through thick and thin, Jack Kelly, affectionately nicknamed "Cowboy."
Jack stood, silent, his eyes slightly glazed over, as if unaware that the entire room of newsies awaited his (hopefully) comforting words. Just as the room began to murmur with quiet concern, Jack shook himself to the present. Gulping back the lump stationed in his throat, he took in a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and began.
"I... I'm usually pretty good at speeches an' things, but this time I don't got the words, an' der ain't Davey here backin' me up." He let out a weak smile as his dark eyes met David Jacobs'. Smiling sadly, David nodded towards his friend, encouraging him to continue.
"I'm sure you all know...-Aw, hell, I know dat you all know 'bout the recent death a' one a' our newsies. He... was great. A great newsie, a great swordsman," a few newsies smiled, "a great friend... a great guy overall."
Jack bowed his head, tears spring up in his eyes, threatening to make an appearance. "He..." He choked on his tears, "he was great... an' now he's gone." He stopped for a moment, fidgeting and trying to find the right word, the right puzzle piece to make this enigma of a speech complete and satisfying. Suddenly finding courage, Jack took in a shaky breath and continued. "He jest started getting' sick, no one knew why... 'cept... he did. Didn't wanna worry us, da fool," he let out a humorless laugh. "An' it cost him his life..." The tears sprang back into action.
David, sensing his friend's breakdown, rushed to the front of the room, placing a comforting arm around Jack before turning to the expectant newsies and finishing Jack's emotional speech.
Paying no heed to the tears leaking onto his own cheeks, David spoke: "Let's take a moment of silence to promise to him that he'll never be forgotten... Let's... Let's take a moment to reflect on the life, albeit short, of our friend."
Not a sound was uttered as the entire room thought about the best friend and confident of everyone... Bumlets.
~ In memory of Dominic Lucero (1967-1994)~
With a swift motion and a noisy clearing of his throat, the solemn bunkroom silented, their attention turned to their leader through thick and thin, Jack Kelly, affectionately nicknamed "Cowboy."
Jack stood, silent, his eyes slightly glazed over, as if unaware that the entire room of newsies awaited his (hopefully) comforting words. Just as the room began to murmur with quiet concern, Jack shook himself to the present. Gulping back the lump stationed in his throat, he took in a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and began.
"I... I'm usually pretty good at speeches an' things, but this time I don't got the words, an' der ain't Davey here backin' me up." He let out a weak smile as his dark eyes met David Jacobs'. Smiling sadly, David nodded towards his friend, encouraging him to continue.
"I'm sure you all know...-Aw, hell, I know dat you all know 'bout the recent death a' one a' our newsies. He... was great. A great newsie, a great swordsman," a few newsies smiled, "a great friend... a great guy overall."
Jack bowed his head, tears spring up in his eyes, threatening to make an appearance. "He..." He choked on his tears, "he was great... an' now he's gone." He stopped for a moment, fidgeting and trying to find the right word, the right puzzle piece to make this enigma of a speech complete and satisfying. Suddenly finding courage, Jack took in a shaky breath and continued. "He jest started getting' sick, no one knew why... 'cept... he did. Didn't wanna worry us, da fool," he let out a humorless laugh. "An' it cost him his life..." The tears sprang back into action.
David, sensing his friend's breakdown, rushed to the front of the room, placing a comforting arm around Jack before turning to the expectant newsies and finishing Jack's emotional speech.
Paying no heed to the tears leaking onto his own cheeks, David spoke: "Let's take a moment of silence to promise to him that he'll never be forgotten... Let's... Let's take a moment to reflect on the life, albeit short, of our friend."
Not a sound was uttered as the entire room thought about the best friend and confident of everyone... Bumlets.
~ In memory of Dominic Lucero (1967-1994)~