{"id":851,"date":"2024-04-04T07:00:00","date_gmt":"2024-04-04T07:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/christinaryanclaypool.com\/blog1\/?p=851"},"modified":"2024-04-04T23:34:08","modified_gmt":"2024-04-04T23:34:08","slug":"remembering-the-bravest-prom-king","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/christinaryanclaypool.com\/blog1\/2024\/04\/04\/remembering-the-bravest-prom-king\/","title":{"rendered":"Remembering a Brave Prom King"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n

\"CorsageMost people attend a prom or two, but I\u2019ve attended lots of proms. Like most teenage girls, as a high school junior, I was excited about the prospect of my first prom. Truthfully, it wasn\u2019t much fun, since the boy I had a crush on didn\u2019t ask me.<\/p>\n

My senior prom was monumentally worse. By then, I was a patient at Toledo State Mental Hospital<\/em> following an almost fatal suicide attempt. After spending a couple months in a private psychiatric ward, my insurance ran out. I was committed to the decaying institution that then housed thousands of mentally ill individuals. Before Mental Health reform, that horrible place was reminiscent of the one depicted in the classic film, One Flew Over the Cuckoo\u2019s Nest.<\/em><\/p>\n

Battling depression and an eating disorder, I looked more like a 17-year-old Holocaust victim than a carefree teenager. The psychiatrist granted me a weekend pass hoping that attending prom would lift my spirits. My date was a classmate who suffered from epilepsy. He must have empathized with my situation, and proudly escorted me to the prom ignoring the stares from a few overly-curious students.<\/p>\n

Fast forward three decades to May 2002, when my life looked nothing like that struggling teen. Faith, education, and the support of a few encouraging mentors had positively changed my circumstances. I was also engaged to a wonderful man\u00a0who was\u00a0a school administrator, whose job necessitated that we chaperone prom. Never having had an opportunity to go to prom together, Larry and I decided to don a tuxedo and gown and make it our night, too. \"Larry<\/p>\n

Since then, my husband and I attended quite a few proms as chaperones. The impressive decorations, twinkling lights, and colorful dresses, still take my breath away. But the prom I remember most vividly is the one when a precious senior who was dying of bone cancer was elected prom king. It was the last year that my spouse served as a middle\/high school principal at a rural school in northwestern Ohio.<\/p>\n

We had all come to love this quiet dark-haired youth known affectionately by his nickname, A.J.\u00a0 He was a senior, who had waged a long and valiant battle against Osteosarcoma. For nine months, he was spot-free, but then the disease turned deadly. Despite his illness, A.J. was compassionate and wise beyond his years.<\/p>\n

Somehow in a tight-knit community where folks have known each other forever, tragedy is worse, because everyone is affected. Prom wouldn\u2019t have been prom without A.J. being there, and he knew it. Even though, it had been months since he had been able to attend school, A.J. mustered all his strength and accompanied by his dedicated fianc\u00e9e`, he showed up looking handsome in a white tuxedo.<\/p>\n

As the disc jockey played pulsating music, the students danced energetically, while silently grieving the inevitable loss of the fun-loving youth who had always been part of them. When his classmates voted for their prom king, I shouldn\u2019t have been surprised\u00a0 when A.J.’s name was announced.<\/p>\n

There was a moment when the reality of the high school student\u2019s dismal prognosis hit me full force. It happened when a pretty senior girl asked if she could take a picture with him, and they posed humorously cheek to cheek with toothy grins. What A.J. didn\u2019t see, was that when the blonde turned away, her expression crumbled into a painful grimace. She had taken the photo as a memory of the boy she had probably known since kindergarten, realizing he would soon be gone. Like a trained actress, before she turned to face A.J. again, the golden-haired girl mustered her courage and smiled brightly. Her affection for her terminally-ill classmate wasn\u2019t romantic love driven by adolescent hormones. Rather it was the kind of caring that country kids take for granted growing up in a close circle of friendship.<\/p>\n

When my husband and I visited him for the last time, A.J. sensed that my heart was breaking. He smiled his dazzling smile, and said, \u201cI\u2019ll be okay.\u201d Then the 18-year-old lifted his T-shirt sleeve and displayed a large tattoo of a compassionate Jesus. A visual reminder of the Bible\u2019s promise, \u201cI am the Resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies.\u201d<\/p>\n

That July, the bravest prom king I\u2019ve ever known took his last earthly breath. Still, he lives on in the hearts of those he inspired, forever wearing a white tuxedo and a jeweled crown.<\/p>\n

\"\"Christina Ryan Claypool is the author of the inspirational, “Secrets of the Pastor’s Wife: A Novel”<\/a> available through all major online retail outlets. She is an AP & Amy award-winning journalist and speaker, who has been featured on Joyce Meyer’s Enjoying Everyday Life and CBN’s 700 Club.\u00a0 Contact her through her website at www.christinaryanclaypool.com<\/a>. <\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Most people attend a prom or two, but I\u2019ve attended lots of proms. Like most teenage girls, as a high school junior, I was excited about the prospect of my first prom. Truthfully, it wasn\u2019t much fun, since the boy … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[29,270,30,601,153,179,603,600,52,520,482,126,477,78,597,602,598,473,575,599],"class_list":["post-851","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-bible","tag-cancer","tag-christian","tag-country","tag-depression","tag-dying","tag-eating-disorder","tag-eternal-life","tag-faith","tag-friendship","tag-gown","tag-jesus","tag-mental-health","tag-ohio","tag-prom","tag-rural","tag-schools","tag-suicide","tag-teenagers","tag-terminal-illness"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/christinaryanclaypool.com\/blog1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/851","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/christinaryanclaypool.com\/blog1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/christinaryanclaypool.com\/blog1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/christinaryanclaypool.com\/blog1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/christinaryanclaypool.com\/blog1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=851"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/christinaryanclaypool.com\/blog1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/851\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1808,"href":"https:\/\/christinaryanclaypool.com\/blog1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/851\/revisions\/1808"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/christinaryanclaypool.com\/blog1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=851"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/christinaryanclaypool.com\/blog1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=851"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/christinaryanclaypool.com\/blog1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=851"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}