Isaac Donaghey 1988-2020

- Isaac, 2006 -

When I first met Isaac, I didn't like him. It was sometime during his teenage years, and my husband at the time, Fred, and I were giving Isaac and my son, Dylan, a ride back to Rotan from the Rattlesnake Round-Up. The boys climbed into the back seat of the pick-up, and Isaac, a big ol' boy, was eating a bag of pork skins. He would eat one, burp, say he was going to be sick, then resume eating them. I didn't know what to make of him. I kept rolling my eyes at Fred, like "Can you believe this guy?"

It's funny to think now that I didn't know then how this boy was going to be a fixture in the background of my life. I'm not fooling myself into thinking I knew him in any deep way. He was my son's friend, and kids have a parallel but separate life from adults. I certainly didn't know him as those in his close circle in the Rotan contingent did, or even in the way the general community knew him. He threaded in and out of my sight, but I was always hearing about him. A little bit of Isaac went a long way, and that made him a bit of an enigma.

We all have our Isaac stories because he was a larger than life character. He wasn't shy. He wasn't demure. He was loud. Nothing was ever just Isaac did this, there was always a tale in the telling.

One of my own Isaac episodes had us in a car chase down Cleveland Street in Rotan. Some people had taken my pick-up joy riding and I was on their bumper in my other vehicle, yelling "Pull over the damned pick-up!" Unbeknownst to me, Isaac was in the back seat, and when he got out, my demeanor completely changed, from crazy-woman to mother-of-somebody, very polite all of a sudden (I was a little ashamed of my behavior, and I guess he was a little surprised). He was very respectful. I even had him drive the truck and park it at a secure location, and I gave him a ride to where he wanted to go.

I told my son about this later, how politely Isaac had spoken to me, and my son said, "That sounds like how he talks to cops." So I know he probably always put on his speaking-to-the-uncool facade with me, but I can still say I knew him. I have a lot of photos and stories to back that up.

I don't know what happened that fateful morning when he physically ceased to be, but it was too soon for such a young man to leave us. Gone but not forgotten is a trite saying, yet true in this instance. I can't help but wonder what he would have to say about all of this.

I bet it would be a hell of a story.