Ladies and gentlemen, we’re gathered here today to celebrate the life of our late friend Jake Sellers. Some of you remember Jake as a loving son, a love heart, or a beacon of love. I remember him as a guy who flew out of a roller coaster. No matter how you remember him, I think I speak for everyone here when I say that Jake died in the coolest way possible.
Writing this eulogy wasn’t easy. You can know a guy your entire life and then wake up one morning and forget everything about him. That’s what happened to me, except I never even knew Jake to begin with. Guy who told me to write this, you look like an idiot right now. From my position on the stage I see audience members laughing at you.
Jake’s life went something like this: born, Vietnam, maimed, Vietnam, new pet. Not a lot of things happened in his life, but when they did happen, you better believe he took some photographs. In the back of the room, all eleven photographs are on display.
Jake was a dedicated man. He drove to school everyday to pick up the son he never had. On weekends, Jake always rode his favorite roller coasters to work. He never had a steady job.
Jake loved helping out with pee-wee football. He yelled a lot at the kids, but only because he wanted the bad players to quit. He made sure those kids were treated like adults, respected like adults, and sacked like adults. Early in the season it became apparent that Jake wasn’t a coach or a parent or even a school administrator. He was just some guy with an incredible amount of sacks.
Jake is gone, but the questions will always be with us. Did he die because he wasn’t wearing a seatbelt? Or was it because he was riding upside down? We’ll never know, but I don’t think it matters either way when you’re on fire.