Shocking death of a good friend a real heartbreaker

I didn't meet Brandt Heatherington until I was in my 60s.

We went to the same school at different times, but even more important, we were members of the same fraternity. Sigma Phi Epsilon was a big factor in both our lives and it brought us together in friendship.

In November 2010, I got together with people from my chapter for the first time in 25 years. It was the 30th anniversary of our chartering, and I saw folks from my own tenure that I hadn't seen since we all were young.

I don't recall meeting Brandt then.

We became friends through Facebook, keeping up with Sig Ep stuff and commenting on various things. I saw how much he loved our chapter, and how hard he and others were working to re-establish it as the best fraternity at George Mason University.

We actually met in October 2017 at the annual golf tournament held by our chapter. I played surprisingly well and won two prizes, only one of them relating to skill.


I did take the award for closest to the pin on the seventh hole, hitting one of the best shots I have ever hit. I also won for oldest golfer in the tournament.

And I got to meet Brandt.

Finally.

He was one of the nicest guys I ever met, and it was if we had known each other for years.

But I never saw him again. We went on from Virginia to Cooperstown, N.Y., Boston, New York City, the Pennsylvania Dutch country and the back home to Georgia.

We stayed in touch through Facebook, but I didn't even notice his absence until yesterday when I saw a post on my News Feed.

Talk about a shock. I hadn't even known he was ill, but I learned he had been battling diabetes, congestive heart failure and various infections for years.

He leaves a wife and a son, and dozens of brothers who will miss him and will never forget him.

I lost one of my four closest friends -- a friendship that went back 50 years -- in 2016. Now Brandt is gone and he wasn't even 60 yet.

Some years back, I wrote about the death of a 115-year-old Indiana woman who had lost her spouse, her children and all of her grandchildren. She still had great-grandchildren and great-great-grandchildren alive, but the world had changed so much since she was born in 1893.

Her death reminded me of the old saying that if you live long enough, you will lose everyone who ever meant anything to you.

OK, fine. But I'm only 70. That's too damn soon.

I do know that if I'm fortunate enough to go to Heaven when I die, when I check in at the Pearly Gates and I'm told I can stay, Saint Peter will say this:

"Brandt Heatherington said when you get here to let you know he's waiting in the bar. He'll pay for the first round."

Sounds good to me.

Go with God, my Brother.