A Hero Lost

I am utterly and incredibly shocked.  I am deeply and greatly saddened.  I am devastated, and my soul feels an extreme feeling of loss. 

On April 4, 2011, one of my heroes, John Adler, passed away.  I continuously shake my head in disbelief whenever I think about it.  How could this happen? 

It has been difficult trying to come to grips with the reality of the situation.  And I have struggled during these few days.  I cannot be with family and friends who share the same tears of loss for John.  This has been difficult.

John Adler was a long time New Jersey Senator and the former U.S. Representative for New Jerseys third Congressional district.  I had the privilege to intern on his congressional campaign in 2008.  I became John’s driver, and accompanied him to any and every event he attended in the district during the summer.  We spent countless hours together, mostly on the road.  We rocked out to classic rock, playing the air guitar and air drums.  We listened to Howard Stern and laughed at the downright ridiculousness of the program.   We ate many meals on the road, and had lots of Wawa hoagies.  I learned more about politics, integrity, and life behind the wheel of my car that summer than I had during all my years at school.

I stayed in touch with John after his election, and despite his new position of power, John was still John.   I would occasionally send him an email saying hi, and I’d always get a response wishing all the best for me.  I’ll never forget the time I saw John on C-SPAN as the acting Speaker of the House during a session.  I sent him an email telling him I saw him on TV and, of course, John responded from his blackberry, (which I could see him doing on TV,) to tell me how much fun he was having.  That was John.  He loved life. 

I can say that I matured more during my time as John’s intern than I have in any other experience in my life.  I am who I am today because of John.  His wisdom and subtle genius helped guide me and I looked up to him as someone to emulate.  I enjoyed interning in his congressional office in 2009 and continued to learn so much about not only politics, but also myself.

Something that John did indirectly was create lifelong friendships amongst people who never knew each other before working for him.  Today, I have some incredible friendships with people I got to know while interning for John.  These are people I talk to on a regular basis, go out for a drink with, share experiences with and consider very close friends.  These are people I’d do anything for and I am so thankful for their friendship, and it wouldn’t be possible without John.  He will live on in the many friendships I’ve made with some of the most special people in my life. 

Through certain experiences in my life, I have come to the realization that everything does not happen for a reason.  There are some things in life that cannot be explained and where there are no good reasons for why they occurred.  I do not believe that God uses the pain, suffering and deaths of others to “teach us a lesson.”  I refuse to believe in a God that would do such a thing.  And that is what makes something like this so difficult.  There is no explanation for why such a great man was taken away so early in life.  The incredible loss is soul wrenching, and no matter what we do we will not be able to understand it.  This is part of life. 

I weep as I write these words, because John was simply a great man.  John was my hero.  He wasn’t just my hero for being such a hard working, self-made success.  He wasn’t just my hero for being a tremendous public servant and for taking a genuine interest in people’s issues.  He wasn’t just my hero for being an honest and fair politician.  He wasn’t just my hero because he had a deep love for his country, his constituents, and his staff.   He was my hero for being a wonderful father.  He was my hero for being a loving husband.  He was my hero because he had an unrivaled love of life.  He was my hero because he was hilarious and loved to make anyone laugh.  He was my hero because he gave me a chance.  He was my hero because he was my friend. 

The pain of losing John will never go away, but neither will the fond memories I have of his service to others.  My soul is filled with melancholy for his wife and their four boys, and I pray that the grace of God will bring them some kind of peace during this time.  I am especially upset that I cannot be home right now and am thousands of miles away from my family and friends who are mourning John’s passing.  But I am blessed with the peace of knowing that perhaps, now more than ever, I am closer to John than I’ve ever been before. 

I love you John, thank you.