On February 11, 2000, this world lost a beloved soul. John Charles Jansen passed away unexpectedly at the age of 27, leaving behind a devastated widow, a grieving family, stunned friends, and a legacy.
It was a tangled web we wove, Johnny and me. I first met him at a church youth group function. I was maybe 12 or 13 years old. He was four years my senior. He was wicked smart with a lightning-fast wit and a mischievous grin. He sang like an angel and played the piano. He made me laugh. He gave neck and shoulder rubs that to this day cannot be matched. I thought he knew everything...looking back, he was probably 80% BS, but at the time I thought he was utterly brilliant. I adored him from the beginning, and we became fast friends.
Fast forward a couple of years, to 1992. My first year of Summer Assembly, a church camp with a long and storied tradition in my church. I was one of only three people from my youth group to go that year, and the only girl...so I was essentially on my own as far as making friends. Turned out to not be a problem. On my first day there, I was walking down the hall of the girls' floor of the dorm, and happened to see a young lady unpacking her stuff in her room. I stopped at the door and asked her for the time. We were inseparable from that moment on. Jennifer and I shared a first name and a love of Mountain Dew...and that's where the similarities pretty much ended. She was a year older than me, grew up on a farm, and had a high school class of maybe 50 people. My dad used to joke that she and I were like City Mouse, Country Mouse. But we hit it off big time and became BFFs.
That was also the year that John and Jen hooked up. Sort of another City Mouse/Country Mouse pairing, but they were good for each other. John went off to college in Oklahoma later that summer. He and Jen kept in touch by phone and by letters. John also sent me a few letters telling me all about college life and how he pined for Jennifer. It was really very sweet. He ended up leaving Oklahoma and coming back to Minnesota shortly thereafter. He was in the Cities, finishing up school at the U of M. Upon graduation from high school in 1994, Jen went to Rochester for nursing school. They managed a successful long-distance relationship for nearly six years all told...a feat unlike anything I've ever seen. They finally moved in together after Jen graduated nursing school and moved to the Cities.
Shortly after that, in 1998, they were married.
I was always on the periphery of all this, going to college in Wisconsin and trying to manage a long-distance relationship of my own. I didn't have nearly the luck, which ended up being prophetic. Because at John and Jen's wedding, I met Mike. Mikey was Johnny's buddy, and I was vaguely familiar with him from high school. Also a year older than me, Mike had lived next door to my best friend all through high school, and was the type to grow his hair long and wear army pants and combat boots. He'd grown out of that phase by the time I met him. He and I hit it off fast, and were officially together within a month of John and Jen's wedding.
And that made the Fantastic Four: John and Jen, me and Mike. The four of us did EVERYTHING together. I probably spent more nights at John and Jen's house than I did at my own. We would hop in our cars and caravan to Jen's parents' farm or my parents' cabin every chance we got. We visited Troy and Julie in Wisconsin -- even spent two New Years Eves with them. We spent time with Harry and Nicole and their little guy (who isn't quite so little anymore). A whole lot of alcohol was consumed (in fact, Johnny made the drink that got me drunk for the first time), many bonfires were enjoyed, Jen cooked I don't even know how many excellent homemade meals for us...life was awesome. We were young, having fun, partying, and pretty much invincible.
Until I got the call that changed my life.
Jen called me at work that Friday morning, hysterical, telling me that Johnny had collapsed at work. I dropped everything, picked her up at home, and drove like a bat out of Hell to Johnny's office. We were too late...he was gone by the time we got there. Jen was a widow at age 24, after less than two years of marriage. Mikey had lost his best friend in the whole world. My dear friend, who gave the best bear hugs and made me literally shriek with laughter, would do so no more.
Johnny's untimely death deeply affected everyone who knew him. Jen, Mike, and I didn't know how to carry on without John. The aura of our little group was darker now, filled with tears instead of laughter. So much sadness. We tried, but we couldn't do it. Within the year, my relationship with Mike had ended. Shortly thereafter, Jennifer and I severed our friendship too. The sadness and the grief became toxic to our relationships (I think because we all reminded each other of John and what we had lost), and we all needed to go our separate ways in order to heal. God, that was the most painful time of my life.
As it does, time did eventually heal us all. Jen and I reunited a few years ago and still talk occasionally. So much changed in the five years that we were separated, and we both matured a lot. Our friendship will never be the same as it was ten years ago, but she will always be a cherished friend to me.
Mikey and I don't keep in contact really, but we are FB friends so we can each keep up with what the other is doing.
I sometimes wonder what sort of path our lives would have taken if Johnny had lived. Would we all still be together? Or would the separations that his death spurred have happened anyway, just under different circumstances? We'll never really know, but I'm pretty sure that each of our lives would be different than they are now.
Here's to you, Johnny. Ten years have passed, but it still feels like you left us yesterday. I miss you dearly.
John Charles Jansen
1/9/73 - 2/11/00
Troy, John, Mike in back, Harry in white. Taken 9/98.
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