My buddy Jake wasn’t your typical Jake, my buddy Jake wasn’t a snake, my buddy Jake was great.
I use to call him my favorite ginger or my hillbilly twin.
My buddy Jake was often misunderstood with a very unique way of looking at life.
The more I think about my buddy Jake I realize we were similar in a lot of ways. A few weeks ago I asked Jake if he had wrote his letter too his younger self. He replied it’s hard to write to that little shit of a kid.
My buddy Jake wasn’t perfect nor did he intend to be. My buddy Jake was genuine and always himself an unapologetic country boy from Oregon my buddy Jake.
May you rest in peace my ginger friend. | WT