Cam Calder

Year: 1998
Place: St. Albert, AB
My age: 20

This memory isn't funny. Sorry, but you'll understand when you see what it's about. (Many of you have probably already guessed from the title.)

In high school, I had been a member of a 12-man singing group called the MT Vibes (I will write a memory devoted to them at another time). I had already been friends with most of them, and the whole experience brought us all closer together. Cam Calder was the oldest MT Vibe.

In the fall of 1998, my pre-mission life was winding down. It was late September or early October. I had already received my mission call, and I was preparing to report to the Missionary Training Center on October 21, and later moving on to the Philippines. I was working the 9-5 shift at Soda Jerks, a local '50s-themed fast food restaurant. One morning, I was in my uniform and just about to head out the door to walk to work. The phone rang before I left, and I answered it. Mum was calling me from the college she worked at.

"I just got off the phone with Joyce," was all Mum said before she started crying. Joyce's son, my cousin and fellow MT Vibe Jake, was currently serving a mission, and my first thought was "Jake's dead."

I asked Mum what was wrong, and she managed to say that Cam Calder had died.

I was struck by a queer mixture of emotions: I was relieved that Jake was fine, but I was devastated that Cam was dead. I leaned on the counter that the phone was on and said, "How?"

Cam had just purchased a motorcycle, and he was driving it on the highway near Raymond. A grain truck pulled out in front of him, and he hit it. He died instantly.

I don't remember how the rest of the telephone conversation went. After I hung up the phone, I paced back and forth between the front door of the house and the kitchen. I was filled with this intense grief, and I wanted to cry. My body needed to express this emotion somehow, and crying seemed like the natural thing to do. This was in the middle of an eight-year stretch of not crying, though, and I couldn't cry even though I wanted to. As I mentioned in an earlier post, I often manifested sorrow as anger, so I went to the door that lead from the house to the garage and give it a double-fisted punch. The door was hollow metal, and I left two faint dents on it. And then, since, I couldn't think of anything else to do, I walked to Soda Jerks and worked my shift in a daze.

I went to Raymond for the funeral a few days later. A group of 20 or so friends of Cam got together and sang a couple of songs ("Each Life That Touches Ours For Good" and "We'll Bring The World His Truth") at the funeral. Only three of us were MT Vibes. The rest, including Cam's brother Kevin, were all on missions. It was easily the saddest funeral I've ever attended.