My brother Jon wasn’t dating anyone, and neither were any of his friends. They were not the most socially active group in high school.
He was a jock … he enjoyed football and baseball. But he enjoyed, even more, fishing, hunting (deer and pheasants, particularly) and spending time in the woods, often alone, or sometimes with just his dog, a big, pale-haired golden retriever named Chip.
He was a linebacker on the high school football team, a very good tackling machine. His coach had told him the previous season, “Helgeland, if you live life like you play defensive football, you will be lucky to make it to 30.”
