When I was kid in junior high school I had a friend named Robert Tucker, who shared very similar physical characteristics with me. With looked so much alike, the other kids would tease us by calling me Tucker, or him Lowry.
On a dumb ass whim, he and five others stole a car, lost of control of it, ran it off an over pass and into an embankment. With the exception of Robert’s little brother, everyone died. It was a terrible tragedy and big news in the area we all lived.
The family didn’t live that far from me and a few days after the funeral I decided to go by personally to offer my condolences. As I walked up to the house, a desperate and hurting mother saw my image through the screen door. Thinking she saw her dead son, she gasped, cried out and fell to the floor. There was no consoling her.
I was just a kid, and I meant well, but it was a terribly insensitive thing to do considering how much Robert and I looked alike. I wish I could ‘take that back’, as it were.
That was thirty-five years ago, but it still bothers me when I think about to this day.