Saturday, April 10, 2010

Anthony Hennings: The Backstory

One of my son’s friends was killed recently, Anthony Hennings. He was 24. Maybe because I’m a midlife woman, I can say with some authority, he was a baby. A baby.

The local paper and TV news, of course, have sensationalized his death by focusing not on the tragedy of a young man’s sudden exit from this world, but on the “alcohol-fueled argument” that led to his shooting (not clear if it was accidental or intentional yet). Maybe because I’m a product of the 70’s, I can say with some authority, we’ve ALL made bad choices in adolescence and young adulthood. If you haven’t, you’re lying.

I have no doubt that Anthony made some bad choices in his comet-brief life. And one of those bad choices got him killed. I want to take some responsibility for that, too. I’m part of a culture that teaches kids practically from birth—at least from the age when they can watch TV and hold a videogame controller—that violence is the ONLY conflict resolution. And with those same videogames, we’ve trained kids to be GOOD at that violence. And with TV, movies and games, we tell them over and over, that violence is cool, colorful, it’s okay, it’s a bazillion-dollar industry. Death is just so much bright red splatter on the screen, then you play again.

But in the sensationalistic “thrill seeking” that Anthony’s tragic end is generating in the press, the story of his life, the human-ness and humane-ness of a sweet, sometimes lost, kid is missing. I’ve known Anthony since he and my son were in sixth grade, and here’s what I will focus on as I remember him and honor his life…

When my son decided to be baptized at First English Lutheran Church in Lennox, Anthony, already baptized and confirmed in the church, sponsored him.

Along with several other Lennox skateboarders, Anthony helped in the fundraising and publicity that led us to getting a Tony Hawk Foundation grant, Lion’s Club help, and enough extra cash to build the skatepark in Lennox.

Anthony, my son and a few others built a skate ramp and rail on our sidewalk in Lennox. One day, the Argus Leader came to do a story on our park-building efforts. My son attempted a trick, fell, and broke his arm. Immediately, Anthony jumped up and ollied for the Argus photographer, who had the good sense to run Anthony’s picture and report on the park fundraising, not on my son’s mishap.

Anthony grew up in a home with his mom and younger sister, no dad around. The kids sort of raised each other while their mom worked to keep up their home in Lennox. Their mom died of breast cancer when Anthony was 22. If you think a kid’s done needing parents at 22, think again.

When we took the boys to Omaha for a weekend of skating and to go to the Henry Doorly Zoo, that bony, leggy little Anthony annoyed the zoo ostriches by doing a dead-on, nose-to-beak impression of them. He annoyed zookeepers by trying to feed the ostriches his snow-cone. I tried to be annoyed, too, but I couldn’t keep from cracking up.

More recently, when I ran into Anthony at a skateshop in SiouxFalls, he immediately hugged me and told me about his mom’s cancer. He asked how our lives were. He told me about his life. He talked about his mom and tried not to cry. In fact, EVERY time I ran into Anthony in these past four or five years, he’s hugged me, talked about his life, and asked about ours.

Five days ago he was skating with my son. He had a little tear in his jeans. By the time they were done skating, they were both laughing at the completely shredded leg of those jeans. I like that…they were laughing at something silly, like the kids they are. The kid Anthony was.

I’m wishing for Anthony another go-round, one that’s peaceful, one with two healthy, happy parents who enfold him in love and protection and direction that doesn’t end at 7 or at 22, one where alcohol and violence aren’t the remedies for pain and loneliness, one where he can laugh, fall in love and be loved in return. One where he can grow up.

11 comments:

  1. What a swell way to remember him. What a sad thing.

    Love,

    Ryan

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  2. pen said it. that was totally beautifujl.

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  3. marcella thank you for your beautiful words I can't express how much we needed to here them amidst all the ugly words surrounding this whole terrible ordeal.

    we love you

    Tara hennings
    Andy hanisch

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  4. Very nice. Very powerful.
    Although, there was an older sister as well as a younger sister, and their mother passed away from pancreatic cancer.

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  5. Thanks for reminding me that there was even more to Anthony than I knew...more family, more love. ;)

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  6. This is an awesome story. It is nice to see someone paint Anthony in the light he deserves and to address what the real tragedy is. It seems like the state and media are scared to do anything about this because it will tarnish the reputation of Sioux Falls or South Dakota and the way it is trying to be accomplished is absolutely ridiculous. I will forever remember Anthony's smiling face and how much he was loved. Thanks again for the wonderful story.

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  7. This is beautiful. Anthony was such an amazing guy. And all of us are going to live in his amazing memory. I saw him Wednesday night and he was smiling and as nice as usual. He was one of the most kind hearted and caring people I've ever met. I don't care what the news says. He was a young kid that deserved to live a long and healthy life, but now we will live on in his memory and try to pass on the kindness that he bestowed on us. He was such a great guy and will be missed by so many. We love you.

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  8. i saw Anthony on wednesday.Bout 4 or 5 p.m. he had obviously just hopped fresh out the shower, his hair was looking all shiny and bright. we had a few quick laughs... (as always when you meet Anthony) then he headed out the door to go meet up with some friends.??....GONNA MISS YA HOMIE Russ Deanovic

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  9. I skated with anthony about a week before he passed. He was always the funnest guy to skate with. When we got to the hartford skatepark he had a small tear in his pants, one half hour later he was skating with one pant, that is to say, one entirely naked leg. Haha! So funny. And he still skated better and harder than all of us. We're going to miss you anthony, for sure. Love you brother.

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  10. My name is Michael Peck. Anthony was one of my best friends. We first met about 7 years ago. Even tho we were so different (Anthony being the goofy skater that he was, and me being the wanna be bad ass who was always serious) we still clicked and became friends. Over the course of our friendship, Anthony helped see me through the death of 3 family members, helped me prepare for the birth of my daughter Abigail, and kinda helped me figure out who I am, ya know? I remember when my brother Steve committed suicide back in April of 2004, Anthony was the first person to put an arm around mew and tell me everything will be ok. While mourning the loss of my brother I became a very angry hateful person. I am very sad to admit that during that time I treated Anthony horribly. I hate myself for the way I treated him. But in spite of my unjustified anger toward him, he stayed there for me. He helped me smile again after dealing with such a tragedy. My mother passed awawy from breast cancer last month and the first person I wanted to talk to was Anthony. Once again, even in tragic times, he helped me smile and find a little bit of happiness. My heart broke when I heard the news about what occurred on that fateful night. I still can't believe it. I find my self dialing his number and expecting him to answer "What up nigga" like he so jokingly did. But no answer. Just a message letting me know that the number is no longer in service. I just wish I could've said goodbye and thanked him for being my friend. I love you man, I'm gonna miss you

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