Spring/Summer 2000 One Year Later

Spring/Summer 2000 - One Year Later

The Flyfisherman
by Amy Codispoti

Liam Wood loved flyfishing. June 10, 1999, was the perfect day to indulge in his favorite sport. Just four days prior, the young man had been set free from the prison formally known as high school, and this was one of the sunniest days to grace Bellingham in weeks. After picking up his diploma from Sehome High School, he headed off to his favorite local hideaway, Whatcom Falls, flyfishing gear in hand. The creek was quiet; few others were out of school that early, and it was a weekday. Whether or not Liam smelled the gasoline that had spilled into the creek via the burst pipeline no one knows, but his friends all agree that even if he had smelled the deadly fuel, his concern for the creek would have forced him to stay and investigate.

On June 10, 1999, young Liam Wood died in Whatcom Falls Park -- a park he regarded as sacred, a place he revered for its beauty. At 18, Liam, full of contagious energy and an equally contagious inner peace, had affected the lives of everyone who had the privilege to know him.

"Liam loved Whatcom Creek," says Jane Nibler, one of Liam's closest friends. "He was so excited that the salmon were finally starting to come back. I know that if he thought the creek was in danger, he wouldn't leave because he'd be so worried about it."

Jane smiles a private, thoughtful smile. She pauses before explaining how she came to know Liam.

"I met Liam the first day of my freshman year, in orchestra. I was just standing there, and all of a sudden someone behind me picked me up and just put me in the trash can! He just laughed and laughed as I tried to get out."

Jane's smile lights up her eyes.

"Liam was such a riot! He had the weirdest random sense of humor; he could always crack me up. And he was such a renegade. He always kept things interesting -- I miss him so much. Everything reminds me of him," Jane says.

"He kept me balanced," she continues. "I am a real goal-oriented person, and I am a very linear thinker and tend to be serious. But Liam never let anything ruffle him. He knew that whatever came his way, he could handle it. I remember once he said to me, ëJane, go down to Boulevard Park, close your eyes and feel the grass growing beneath your fingers and listen to the gulls. Learn how to enjoy the moment."

Liam and Jane played violin in sixth period orchestra. Daily, the two would sit together, playing their instruments, whispering and stifling laughs.

Jane says Liam wasn't especially fond of high school. Although he was academically successful, the trivialities of school annoyed him. Liam's concerns rose beyond the walls of high school. Although he differed in this regard from his peers, Jane says Liam was a very well known and loved person at Sehome.

Six months before his death, Liam composed a miniature autobiography for a creative writing class.

It begins:

Today's date is January 20, 1999. It's a cloudy, rainy day and I am happy.

Presently my life is great! I've just finished my second to last semester of high school and I don't have a care in the world! Partying every weekend and doing the things I love to do like flyfishing, snowboarding, dating, lifting weights and playing basketball. Other things I really like to do are: ice climbing, whitewater kayaking, hiking, running, watching movies, spending time with friends. I value many things, life being the first and foremost. I also value good, long-lasting relationships and courtesy. I value beauty and honesty, and good food. I value our wilderness areas and all creatures walking the earth. I value all people and I value diversity and human rights.*

Jeff Clark, an English teacher at Sehome High, taught Liam's Northwest Literature course fall semester of 1998. Jeff, an avid flyfisherman, designed the course to appeal to students who had an interest in the outdoors and an appreciation for the environment. Jeff says that at first Liam was quiet in the class -- not shy, but preferred to keep to himself. But as the semester progressed, so did Liam's enthusiasm for the class. Once, Jeff mentioned his passion for flyfishing to Liam. Liam's hazel eyes immediately lit up, realizing the connection the two shared.

"He went fishin' all the time," Jeff says. "I knew he was catchin' a lot of fish and he knew I wasn't. But he never made me feel like I was a loser. He'd always give me little tips. We kind of switched roles ... he became the teacher and I became the student. It totally put a new dimension on our relationship. Even after he was out of my class, I would see him in the halls and he'd catch my eye and we'd stop and compare fishing stories. So, when the accident happened..."

Jeff's voice breaks as his eyes fill with tears. He lifts a cupped hand to his mouth, averts his dark eyes and stares across the green lawn.

"It is just unfair, unjust and cruelly ironic that Liam died on a sunny afternoon fishing in a place that he loved and doing something that's not hurting anybody. To have this monstrous tragic accident come and happen, and kill him ... that makes it pretty tough for me to take.

"He was kind ... that was one of the things I really appreciated about him," Jeff says, taking a moment to wipe fresh tears from his cheeks.

"Not everybody is kind," he continues. "I work with a lot of adolescents. Their hormones are raging. They're loud ... I mean, a lot of them are great, but kids like Liam are definitely the minority. That kid had a special quality. He was not egocentric and could empathize with other people. There's not enough people like him in the world."

I don't really get angry about that much. I don't like it when people talk in movies. I don't like bread crumbs in the butter, and I hate it when people make stupid calls. I am pissed off about the rape and pillage of our wilderness areas and our salmon runs, and I hate it when fishermen crowd the rivers and leave garbage. My greatest joy these days is being with the people I love. My friends, my girlfriend, and my family. I love being with these people in the mountains and at parties.

Lately I've hurt about...well...nothing really!

My best memory is going down to Oregon with Evan. We had a great time. Fishing the most beautiful streams ever (and catching lots of fish), drinking beer with cowboys, running out of money, dropping lit smokes in our own laps, meeting gorgeous girls, and lots of other things. I also remember the sun and the feeling of water on my legs and the smells of pine trees and dry earth, mosquitoes and powdered Gatorade.

"Neither Liam or I are especially religious people," says Evan Scoboria, Liam's best friend and devout outdoor companion. "But spending time outdoors, especially fishin', is a real spiritual experience. You kind of find your soul."

Evan casts his grey-blue eyes down to the table where he sits. Outside, finches and robins flit in the coolish early spring air. The sun is setting, sending warm golden beams across the softly rippling Whatcom Creek, which lies just beyond Evan's back door.

"We used to go fishing every day," Evan comments before gingerly sipping his herbal tea. "Before we got our licenses, either my dad or Bruce would take us out."

Until he met Liam, Evan had never flyfished.

"I was just a pagan fisherman until Liam came along," Evan says with a laugh.

Pausing, his eyes dance with thoughts of recollection, and a slight smile teases the corners of his mouth.

"Actually, it was fishing that really drew us together as friends," Evan says. "We met in eighth grade, and Liam was this long haired skater dude, and I was just this nature kid ... kind of an odd match for friends. But, we had fishing in common. And Liam offered to teach me how to flyfish."

The boys chose Lake Terrell as the destination for their first fishing trip.

"On the way over there, we got a thing of Sunchips and Gatorade, and that became our sort of hallmark. Every time we went fishing from then on, that's what we got," Evan says, chuckling.

Being of pre-driver's license age tried the boys' adventurous spirits. Constantly relying on Evan's empathetic father to take them out, the teens remained somewhat restricted during the early years of their friendship.

However, during their sophomore year of high school, Evan got his own Volkswagen camper bus. The last month of school, the two became obsessed with planning what was to be their first independent road trip to Oregon. When the time of departure finally arrived, they packed every worldly possession of theirs in the bus.

"You know," Evan says with a grin, "we were going to be gone for two weeks. We couldn't leave anything behind!"

Another item of importance packed in the bus was an ottoman that belonged to Liam's mom, Marlene. She had it handmade in Oregon, and wanted the boys to take it to be reupholstered.

"It was hard watching them take off in that bus, knowing they'd be gone for so long," Marlene says with a soft sigh. "Letting go is a difficult thing to do as a mother. But, I knew it was something they had to do; I wasn't going to stop them."

Six hours later, in Oregon, Liam and Evan heard a strange bang emit from under the bus. Wondering what happened, Evan asked Liam to poke his head out the window to see if he could detect the source of the problem.

"Oh my God!" Liam cried hysterically, "Evan, there's flames coming out the tailpipe!"

Fortunately, they were near an exit ramp. Evan quickly pulled off the freeway. But, unfortunately, they were in the middle of nowhere. The boys jumped out of the bus and started running. Momentarily, the flames started gushing out of the wheel wells and the back window burst out. The fire was located directly under the gas tank, so there was no hope for retrieving anything out of the bus.

"We couldn't figure out what to do!" Evan exclaims, his eyes wide. "Finally, we were able to flag down a mini van that was driving by. The guy had a cell phone; we called the fire department. They said it would be quite a while before they could get there."

Liam called Marlene and told her the desperate situation. After being reassured of their safety, Marlene jokingly asked Liam if he had managed to retrieve her ottoman.

"Liam was so offended," Evan says, laughing at the memory. "He said, 'Oh my God, Mom!' and then Marlene just started to crack up. At the time, Liam was so ticked off."

By this time, the flames had progressed into the nearby field. Evan proceeded to call his dad who also laughed at the boys' plight.

"While I was on the phone with my dad, the propane canisters that went with our camp stove exploded and the driver's side bus seat was blown out through the windshield. ... In retrospect, that scares the piss out of me."

When the fire department finally showed up, Liam and Evan were in utter shock. Not knowing what to do, they wandered down the road and discovered a pear tree.

"We just sat there for at least 20 minutes eating green, un-ripe pears. As we were walking back up to the scene, we saw the bus flip over and lurch forward like three or four times," Evan recalls.

A tow-truck eventually arrived to remove the shell of the bus, and a red-hot cylinder fell out of the van. After unsuccessfully trying the put it out, the fireman left the burning metal piece in the road, and marked it off with red tape.

"We ended up going down to Liam's dad's house that evening," Evan says, admitting that his memory is somewhat blurry due to the shock of losing the bus. "My dad came down to pick us up to bring us back to Bellingham, and on the way up we stopped at the exit where my bus burned up, and there was this huge hole in the pavement where the cylinder was."

Evan brushes his dark hair away from his eyes, and laughs softly.

"Yes, Liam and I left our mark there," he says quietly. "Liam was such a good person to talk to. Even if we didn't have time for fishing, we would just hang out and talk. The night before he died, we hung out over at my house and talked to three in the morning. It's weird to say, but you kind of have a love affair with your close friends, even those of the same sex. Liam and I did. We were totally bonded together. I knew I could tell him anything. And I did. We could totally hug and say we loved each other."

Evan says one of the things Liam often talked about was graduating from high school so he could go to college and study something he was passionate about. During fall semester of his senior year, Liam decided he wanted to attend Western. In his application to Western, Liam writes, "I am permanently in love with the northwest. ... I don't want to leave it just yet." He went on to express his interest in Huxley College and a major in Environmental Science.

I worry about getting accepted to WWU. I really want to go there. I worry if I will succeed in life and if I'll be adventurous and happy. I worry for friends who have no hope.

Ten years from now I want to be kayaking a beautiful river with a beautiful woman. I want to be happy. That's it.

Before I die, I hope to have children and I hope to have fulfilled my goals and ambitions to the fullest extent possible. I want to have fun and to love and be loved.

Liam was thrilled when he received word that he had been accepted to Western. His friend, Mike (Ted) Guidon, was also accepted to the university and they were planning on being roommates.

"We had it all planned out," Ted recalls, quietly. Wood was the perfect roommate.

"He was a down-to-earth person who said it like it was," Ted says. "I could talk to him about anything ... he was enjoyable to be around. He loved to have a good time."

What most impresses Ted is the deep sincerity and empathy that trademarked every friendship Liam had.

Ted says that the shock of his best friend's death hasn't completely worn off. He admits he doesn't laugh as much as he once did. He says Liam's humor is irreplaceable.

Ted's first year of college has been difficult without his friend, Liam. Ted admits that he feels Liam's life was cut too short.

"It is like he was ripped off. He was so excited to go to Western ... It's sad that he never had the opportunity," Ted concludes.

Jane agrees wholeheartedly, saying that Liam's life was unfairly cut off.

"Liam was at the highest point in his life. He had such an inner peace. Everything was working out for him," Jane says with bewilderment. "It is a small consolation for me to know that he was so happy when he died Ö he just had so much more living to do."

Liam had his entire summer planned out: fishing and camping every weekend. But, Evan says that had he not died at Whatcom Creek on June 10, 1999, Liam would have been at the creek every day during the summer to help restore it.

"Liam had total respect for the places he experienced," Evan says. "He'd always talk about how beautiful nature was. So, it would have been hard for him to say goodbye to Whatcom Creek. He would have been upset at what happened. He had a good outlook on things and I am sure he would've felt the spirit of the creek, but he would've been devastated."

Liam had an innate appreciation for life early on according to friends and family. He had a philosophy based on the fundamental belief that all life, human and non-human, is precious and commands respect. Liam found his religion in nature. While observing the intricate perfection of an individual leaf's veins, or while casting his line into a salmon-blessed stream, Liam possessed a keen connection with the earth. His friends say Liam believed that our lives are directed by an unknown higher power; he believed every life had a purpose.

"The night before he died," says Jane, "Liam and I went out for sushi, and we got into a talk about death and its timing. Liam said that he believed everybody deserved to live a full life, and that there was some sort of plan for our lives. Then he said that when kids die, it's fate. It's an interception. He didn't believe a young death was a part of the ultimate plan."

Marlene finds comfort knowing that Liam experienced life more fully at a young age than many do by the time they are 50.

"He was fortunate that he discovered his passion so early," Marlene says. "Many people spend their whole lives without passion and realize too late that something was lacking. And, on the other hand, many people spend their entire lives on a quest trying to find what it is they are passionate about. Liam knew what his was really his whole life."

Recently I've learned how to drink excessive amounts of alcohol without completely losing my mind. Recently, I've learned about love and about trust. I've learned that everyone deserves a chance to do whatever they want. I've also learned not to judge others and to think they're cool until I find out otherwise.

Well, I'm not someone to say what I think is special about me. I don't like to brag. I can catch fish every time I go fishing (pretty much). I can climb ice and kayak raging water without dying and I can raise the mood if it's down. I can flirt well, and I am nice to almost everyone.

Hopefully in five years, this letter won't look too stupid and hopefully I'll be where I want to be and have done what I wanted to do.

Peace out.

*(Excerpted from Liam's essay) People that are important to me are: my parents, Marlene and Bruce, Terry and Nadine and my beautiful sister Bailey. Even Scoboria, my closest friend and Ted Guidon, Adam Cline, Brandon Harbor, Owen Rhoades, Todd Jones, Angie Barnhart, Beth Jimmerson, Brant McAfee, Jordan True, Breanna Palmer, Trevor Jeffro, Jessica, Katie, Jo-Jo, Monkey, Chris and all my relatives, Brian and Alisha McQuaid, David Whitmyer, Justin Ashworth and many others.

Spring/Summer 2000 - One Year Later

The Flyfisherman by Amy Codispoti

The Flyfisherman
by Amy Codispoti