I don’t know who Sean Severson was. I never had the chance to get to know him or ever meet him. I don’t know if I ever walked by him in the hallways or accidentally bumped into him while rushing to class. I never will know him or have the opportunity to see him smile after hearing a funny joke, or hold the door open for him like I do everyday for countless other strangers that this could also be about.
It’s strange isn’t it? How one miniscule, everyday act is made colossal—life—changing even-for some all because of the loss of life of someone you didn’t even know. . . You see it affect the others around you that did know him. You almost expect that to inevitably affect them. But who would expect the people who had no clue who he was—where his favorite place to eat was, if his mom still packed him a lunch every morning before he left for school, how late he stayed up at night just to finish a movie—would be affected too.