Peter Kozo

Peter was three years ahead of me in high school.
Peter was born in the year John F. Kennedy was elected President of the United States of America.
I was born the year Kennedy was assassinated.
His last name came from that proud Eastern European Roman Catholic background. Kozo rhymed with "Bozo". Peter had lots of nicknames... PK, Peety, Pete and "The Koz". But rue the day when that one classmate called him "Bozo." Small in comparison to his teasing nemesis, Peter took this kid out with three quick punches and Peter was never called Bozo again... ever!

Popular with the girls and the boys, Peter was one of those counter cultural kids. He cycled long before anyone had ever heard of Lance Armstrong. He rode his skateboard to school long before anyone had ever heard of Tony Hawk. And Tony loved to sing which made my sitting next to him in the choir "cool." I needed all the "coolness" I could muster when I was in high school and sitting next to Peter in the choir helped a ton.

Back then Peter had long flowing hair. With one of those big combs that everyone used to carry in their back pockets, Peter could be seen frequently combing through the locks that made every girl jealous and every boy envious. Always tanned, Peter's bright smile put everyone at ease. As much as he had the chance to be arrogant and cocky, he was just the opposite - cool, yet humble, gracious, kind and took the time to say hello to anyone who wanted to stop and chat on the quad. Everyone knew he loved Jesus but for some reason that love for the Lord was never a turn off. He was a magnet not a repellent.

No one in his family had ever been to college. In typical counter culture fashion Peter went off to UCLA. We  stood next to each other in the choir on his day of graduation. We gave each other "low fives" because a "high five" hadn't been invented yet. And off he went with his flowing hair matching his flowing graduation robe.

In 1982 I was experiencing my first summer home from college. Little did I know that Peter would be experiencing his last. Having graduated from UCLA, Peter was back home in the summer of 1982. Off to the beach on his bike, heading down Newport Boulevard, Peter was struck by a van and killed immediately. Today we have Facebook and the news would have been spread in a nanosecond. In the summer of 1982 word leaked out slower than molasses. By the time I heard the news I was getting ready to head back for my sophomore year. Peter had been dead for weeks at that point.

It's been 31 years since Peter passed away...

Rest in peace Peter...

My iWitness...

Yesterday I found myself walking around Gray's Lake in Des Moines, Iowa. On the far side of the two mile trail around the lake is a wide pedestrian bridge that is one quarter of a mile long. On the railing of the bridge, every eight inches were small plaques affixed to the metal railing. Each plaque was in honor or in memory of someone. Some plaques had fake flowers attached to them. Others had little stickers with a smiley face or a cross.

About halfway across a name caught my eye and I stopped and stared for several minutes...

Peter Kozo
1960-1982

I have a confession to make. I have never met Peter Kozo. Everything you read above was the making of Peter Kozo in my own mind and fantasy.

What I was struck by yesterday as I crossed the bridge was that people like Peter Kozo were remembered. They were gone but not forgotten. And as much as I made up the story of Peter Kozo, there is someone, there is some family out there that can and would be more than happy to tell you the story of Peter. Their stories of Peter would be much more vivid and passionate than my fictional fantasy. There is someone who took the time to buy a plaque so that their son, brother, boyfriend or just friend would be forever remembered on the bridge at Gray's Lake Park. Whoever they are, I thank them for remembering Peter.

Once again I come around to this point... You make a difference.
With each passing day you write a page in the book of your life. Some chapters are incredibly exciting and others terribly boring and uneventful. Nonetheless, You have a story to tell.
People read the book you are writing. They are influenced by you. They are moved by you. They are dedicated to you. They are impacted in ways you cannot begin to imagine by your life, your love, your laugh. And when you are gone, you will not be forgotten. Your footprints on the hearts of so many that you know and don't know will keep walking long after your journey has ended..

And the beauty of it all is that like Peter Kozo, you have a name. A name that you love to hear being called out. A name that identifies you and separates you out from the crowd. A name that sometimes defines who you are and a name that people love to have on their lips.

Most of all God loves to say your name. He loves to whisper it in your ear. He loves to shout it from the mountaintops and have your name clap in the echoes. I love one of God's favorite sayings...

"Fear not, for I have redeemed you;     I have called you by name, you are mine.
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
     and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;
when you walk through the fire you shall not be burned,
    and the flames shall not consume you.
For I am the Lord your God,
    The Holy One of Israel, your Savior." (Isaiah 43. 1-3) 

Rest in peace today my friend...

And that's my iWitness...
Laugh often and fear not!
David!