Tilt and I lived in Carrboro, NC, from August 2002 to February 2005, while I finished my anthropology degree at UNC. In Carrboro we became part of a circle of thirtyish couples, most with one or more partners in grad school. We met as neighbors, or by being in the same department, or by joining the Carrboro Stitch ‘n’ Bitch group. I met my friend Steffi through the knitting group, and through our mutual friend bugheart. Steffi is a sweetheart, a pale German beauty with a keen intellect, a gentle sense of humor, and a warm smile. We got to know her husband, Jamie, too, through Stitch ‘n’ Bitch meetings, a couples Game Night at their house, and other casual intersections. Jamie seemed like an utter dear – funny, smart, progressive, kind. Ponytail and glasses – I like that in a man. Tilt remembers that Jamie was the instigator for a Kitsch ‘n’ Bitch series, for the husbands of the Stitch ‘n’ Bitchers to get together and watch bad movies – martial arts, he thinks? – while the ladies knitted. He was one of those people you don’t know well, but can tell you’d really like if you did, you know? And he and Steffi seemed so well matched, so happy.
The summer Zag was born, Steffi and Jamie moved up to Blackburg, Virginia. She’d finished her doctorate and been offered a job there, at Virginia Tech. They talked about what a nice quiet town it was, how easy it would be to bike to work, the beauty of the mountains. We wished them well, and figured we’d get back in touch if we were ever in the area.
Yesterday morning, Jamie was killed while teaching a German class at Virginia Tech. I just found out half an hour ago. I thought of Steffi right away, when I heard about the shootings, but the early reports that the site was an engineering building calmed me down. I thought, it’s silly to worry about particular people, on a campus that big… Then this evening I heard something about a German professor, and started to worry again. I searched on Steffi’s name – and found that not she, but Jamie, had been the victim. I didn’t know he was teaching German there too – but of course, he spoke it fluently – and his students apparently loved him.
I hoped maybe blogging about this would help me figure out how I feel. I can’t even begin to think what it’s like to lose your sweet, funny, long-haired, geeky, 30-something husband. I don’t even dare start to think about it, to be honest. I don’t know whether to try to reach out to Steffi, or how. I hope she knows how wide the circle of friends and acquaintances is that grieves with her, but I wouldn’t want to butt in – I might seem to be seeking self-importance, or an opportunity to demonstrate my pious concern, on the basis of my admittedly distant association with this tragedy. I’m even a little ambivalent about writing this post, taking up airspace with my little feelings when so many others have so much greater claim on our attention, our sympathy, our prayers.
But here I am, writing about it anyway. Jamie deserves the eulogy, however incomplete. I didn’t know him well, and I hadn’t thought about him in two years, but I’m really, really sorry he’s gone.
