A HILL OF BEANS
I most recently was a bean counter in a company with some pretty hefty beans.
Confidentiality agreements prohibit me from saying much else, except that I gave my notice the other day. I was sick of counting someone else’s beans and want to start cultivating my own crop.
Not to say that I didn’t enjoy my job and the family I worked with. Yes, it was a family business, which is a special dynamic unto itself.
You’d think I’d learn.
There comes a time in everyone’s life (or there should be, anyway) when they face their own mortality. The fact we are all going to die someday is accepted, as there isn’t much we can do about it anyway. But we all think we’re going to live forever, especially when we are younger.
Two fairly new friends of mine have sons the same age as my children. They went to college and work at settling in a career path, something some of us continue to do for the rest of our lives.
These two young men made the acquaintance of a young man named Adam, who was 24 years old and a transplant from Florida. A gregarious and free spirited soul, he moved north to be able to experience the change of seasons and to witness the miracle of snow. Most of us around these parts don’t think the white stuff is miraculous – but to Adam it certainly was a delight to behold.
One of his roommates, who happened to be the son of one of my friends, snapped a picture of his face, awe struck and joyful as he tasted the new sensation on his tongue. Snowflakes and the cool night sky, it was a wonderful memory for all of them.
Fast forward to the summer months, and they are all outside enjoying a summer evening, looking forward to heading home, eating a pizza and grabbing a beer.
“You go ahead” my friend’s son said to Adam….”I’ll get the apartment ready and you get the pizza….” They were expecting a crowd as Adam had made a lot of new friends.
Adam was shot down in front of Mark’s Texas Hots while waiting outside with some other friends as the pizza baked in the oven. An angry black man opened fire with a 12-gauge shotgun, killing Adam and grazing the girl who stood beside him.
“It was an accident” Cyon Badger said at the trial.
Badger, 41, was convicted Feb. 1 of second-degree murder for Adam's death and attempted second-degree murder for trying to shoot bouncer Frank Hall outside Mark's Texas Hots on Monroe Avenue on July 14, 2007. He was sentenced yesterday to 40 years in prison.
Badger got into a fight with three young men after leaving Callahan's bar, which is next to the pizza joint. Hall, a bouncer at Mark's Texas Hots, intervened. Badger went to his apartment across the street, got the gun, and started shooting. The most innocent of innocent bystanders, Adam and his friends, were in the way.
The Assistant District Attorney maintained Badger had pointed the shotgun at Hall and pulled the trigger. When the gun misfired, Badger unloaded it, inserted a new shell, pointed the gun at the young woman with Adam then turned it on Adam and fired.
The only accident I can see is that he meant he missed Frank Hall.
If there is anything remotely positive that can come from this tragic event, it’s the fact that witnesses came forth and spoke. There is an epidemic in Rochester of people of all ages not talking for fear of being labeled a ‘snitch’ and even for fear of their life. There are far more murders unsolved than need be, and it is a living nightmare for those family members who know who did what and can not bring themselves to tell.
Many times there are those who feel they are just one person, one bean in a pile of bean counters whose participation doesn’t really mean anything.
I know the place where I counted will certainly miss my expertise.
The beans in the pile are growing larger and larger everyday.
My most fervent wish is that they remember Adam. Justice was served but it will never bring Adam back.
I take solace he is in heaven, surrounded by snowmen, with his mouth open wide to catch the falling snowflakes.
http://www.democratandchronicle.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20070405/MULTIMEDIA05/301130001
