Michael, Jillian, Makayla & Bryce Casey Tribute

I knew Jill only for four years of my life, but they were important years. They were my high school years. I thought long and hard before I wrote this. I have a lot of memories but I didn’t know how appropriate they would be along side those who knew her so well. Then I realized that this web site is not designed to censor memories. This site is here to tell stories to others about the person I knew and when I knew her. These are not emotional or deep memories, they might even be considered stupid or immature. However, they are important. Important to me because this is what I have.

I dated Jill in high school as a junior. She was the first girl I ever told “I love you”. I didn’t have the guts to do it in person so I told her over the phone. Jill being Jill, not wanting to hurt my feelings took a long pause; she needed a second to think of how to let me down easy. After what seemed like an eternity, she simply said “thank you”. I was devastated then, but I can laugh now. How could I not have loved her, she was special; smart, funny caring and true. I never got a chance to meet Mike but I know if he was the man that married Jill he must have been all of those things and then some.

A particular memory of mine is a night just like any other hanging out with Jill, Whiteboy and Monty. Whiteboy had to go home early as usual; he probably had to clean the seaweed out from around the boathouse or something. As I remember it, C.W. had one “special cigarette” left. Before going home, Monty and I pleaded with him until we were blue in the face to give it to us, but it was to no avail. Thank God for Jill. With a head tilt and a smile, she said, “please”. That “special cigarette” came out of his pocket faster than Billy the Kid drawing a pistol. Monty and I thanked Jill profusely. She had pulled off the impossible. The funny thing is that she had no idea her soft voice and beautiful smile had just been used as a power of persuasion. To her she was simply saying “please Chris” just like me and Monty had. It was a warm, muggy New England summer night so we ended up on the back porch. My parents always had the uncanny knack for coming home early when we were up to no good. So, in preparation we began to play the game “how are we going act when my parents get here”. I vividly remember Jill’s rendition of “Oh, hello Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, beautiful night isn’t it?” This went on for at least an hour. They never came home but I’ll never forget the laughs we had over the possibility that they might.

Another memory I have is of Alex, Jill and I the summer of my senior year in high school. I can’t remember how the three of us we became so close but we hung out all the time that summer. This particular night we were going to a party in Tiverton, RI. We took Alex’s little blue Toyota. It was way out in the boondocks. We passed the time listening to music, cracking jokes and simply having fun. We had to walk along a long peer to get to the beach were the party was supposed to be. The stars were out. The breeze was warm. The night was perfect. When we arrived, about ten people were sitting around a campfire, all strangers. We could have just left but we stayed, just Alex, Jill and I, sitting in the sand, away from the crowd, talking, laughing, and enjoying our youth. I can’t believe how clear this memory is for me. It’s funny what the mind chooses to remember. I mean, it was a nothing night but it was a night of everything.

It might sound selfish but I am jealous of those who knew the Casey’s and Jill after I did. I am pissed that I never got to know Jill as a woman and a mother. I am pissed that I never met her husband and her children. I had not seen Jill in thirteen years and now I can’t. Honestly, I was shocked at how much this affected me. I am sad. I am angry. I just don’t understand.

To all the new friends I made at Chris Whites remembrance party and to the ones I already had, I want to say thank you. Thank you for the memories you shared with me.
I also want to thank whoever created this site, it felt good to tell these stories.