by Kelsey Indorf

I remember one night, freshman or sophomore year, when I had a party at my house. Being young and inexperienced with alcohol, I drank way too much and got very sick. While everyone else was busy enjoying the party or worrying about their own levels of intoxication, Rett picked me up from a chair in the back yard. I don’t remember if I could walk or not. But anyhow, gingerly, he got me into my house and up the stairs. He took off my shoes and put me into my bed. Then he went back outside and washed off the patio that was littered with vomit and cigarette butts.

That type of compassion and concern for a friend seems characteristic of a college kid with more maturity, not a 16 year old. If it weren’t for his insistence that I go to my bed, I probably would have woken up in that outside chair, alone and scared, on a messy patio. Instead, I learned a lesson from a good friend, and now I try to pass along the same compassion to friends who find themselves in bad situations. The situation seems to juvenile today, but it really meant a lot to me.