I’ve had the privilege of knowing Jordan for the last 20 years.
Anyone that knew Jordan knew he was a truly genuine, kind, and thoughtful person. It was simply who he was. He certainly was the heart of our close-knit group of friends growing up.
One thing that has always stood out was his ability to bring laughter to any room he was in. This has been true for his entire life, and remained the case even over the last few years.
Even when the reality that he was going to be stuck with limited mobility for the rest of his life was starting to sink in, he never lost his sense of humor. He would grimly joke with me that he must have wished on a monkey’s paw in high school, because at that time he would have given anything to stay home and play video games every day – and now he has exactly that.
Even in his final days, when his body was failing him, all he wanted was to make the people around him smile. I’ll never forget one of the last things Jordan said to me. He said “I like hearing you laugh. It makes me feel like I did something right.” And I don’t think anything could better demonstrate the kind of person Jordan was, and his concern for others even when the moment should have been about him.
And that sentiment is further embodied by the final request he made of me:
The last time we spoke, Jordan asked me to start preparing funny stories from our friendship to share at his memorial. It’s been hard. Not because there aren’t funny stories to tell – there are plenty. In fact, a lot of those memories are on tape. From interviewing Darth Vader to recreating Monty Python sketches in our bedrooms to dressing as Chippendale dancers and stripping in the woods – a lot of our life was on camera and still findable on YouTube today, despite some of our parents’ objections at the time.
No, it’s been difficult because Jordan was so much more than just a person who could make you laugh. He was a true friend in a way that is hard to find. And he was one of the most genuinely good and selfless people I’ve ever known.
When I think back to some of the most difficult times in my life, Jordan was always there for me. I can’t even count the number of hours we spent talking while walking in loops around a single block or sharing lunches together in college. No matter how heavy the burdens Jordan was carrying in his own life, he always had time to listen to a friend.
One thing that has been especially hard to reflect on, but that Jordan found funny in an ironic sort of way, is that our group of friends already mourned him once.
Right before high school, the Jacobs moved to Virginia for a couple of years. And it was as big a loss as any of us could have imagined at the time. We threw a large going away party and invited the entire grade. But also, three other friends and I decided to take up the old fashioned art of barbershop quartet singing just so we could learn the Michael W. Smith song “Friends” to sing to Jordan as if it was a funeral. You know he had to be pretty special to get a group of teenage boys to do something that dorky.
At that same time, we also kept a shared journal that would be passed around between classes. I’ve held onto it for all these years. Jordan’s entry the day before he moved away was simply the words “oh no!” but the rest of us followed it up with an in memoriam. Some of the things we wrote all those years ago were “JJ is a great friend”, “He is truly reliable”, and “We’ve had many great times together”, “He is amazing to hang with”, and “I am extremely sad he’s gone”.
It’s about as eloquent as a bunch of teenagers could manage. But nearly twenty years later, I don’t think any of us would change a word. It’s a reminder that the things we loved about Jordan at 13 were the same things we love about him today.
So thank you JJ. Thank you for never losing those qualities, for everything you have done for me, for every talk, for every joke, and for every tear we cried together. The world was better because you were in it.
And as much as we meant it when we sang it to you all those years ago, it feels even more true today: “A lifetime’s not too long to live as friends.”
