One of the sweetest kids God ever made. ReChard Collins, J.W. Eater Middle School, 1983(?).

It has been said too often and sung just as much, “That only the good die young.” I feel fairly certain that isn’t always true. Even so, this week it is.

There’s a world of adults mourning a very special man in their lives right now. Or I should say – now gone from their earthly lives, in a sense, my own. I use the term “adult” for a few reasons – one, I only knew the kid, the teen, the very young man and only ever re-met our mutual friend once or twice some 35-40 years later. He was just as impressive. But I never got to especially know the man their all rightfully mourning. It’s only through the many photos and videos they’re posting online that I see his life, the connections, the very evident love he held for them and likewise.

ReChard, former wife & forever friend, Tynisa

No, my mourning is a different kind but no less reverent or heartfelt, just lives differently. You see, I got to know the kid and observe the unfinished clay of which he was shaping and being molded. I write this in part for those that knew him then, along the journey of his life just as much as I compose this for myself to keep and remember. 

As a young teen, 7th Grader really, he was one of my favorite friends or really, souls to encounter. He was given just as much of a fitting name and one I’ve not across again – ReChard. I’ve since seen it printed, “Rechard,” but I recollect everyone saying it more like “Re’Chard.” And he was as cool as that actually sounds but he never tried to be so cool or take himself too seriously. Yet, he was every bit a “Re’Chard” or THE “ReChard.” 

I should preface this a bit by saying ReChard and I weren’t pals beyond J.W. Eater school hours nor do I have any particular memory of us ever doing anything outside of class or talking on the phone as kids might. I mean maybe I saw him at the Galaxy Arcade or Monical’s Pizza or The Mall here and there, but nothing substantial comes to mind. No, really as many will recall, your school became your planet, where it all happened, and you were all thrust together. In spite of not running the roads with him, his impression upon me was indelible and the credit goes to ReChard’s special persona and way of being.

I can still hear Mrs. Usher gleefully calling or barking ReChard’s name.

Partly, this dynamic was rooted in him belonging to the kids of Chanute Air Force Base in our hometown (61866, The Box). In a certain light, their existence in our day began with the bus dropping them off and less sporting events, parent nights, a play or musical activities, their role ended when they boarded the bus back to the base. That group of kids had a different vibe of belonging and were tighter because of those lives which in ways seemed mysterious to us “townies,” yet in school, we were all classmates, friends. In fact, it was because of the way many of them had traveled, been made to move, sometimes from Japan or Korea or Germany, they brought a worldliness into our small town life that made us glimmer a bit more as kids. ReChard, others, gave us a greater reflection about the world out there, made us look at things, differently. These kids were kind of like mini-rock stars, epitomized underdogs, and in many ways were fearless in being themselves. And as much as there were girls of that caliber, this writing leans more towards the young bro variety. There is no particular order in my mind nor does it include a total list which would be another writing, but in my hindsight window, that forever film, they had names like Percy Skinner, Chris Motley, Jeff Berry, Larry Smith, Mike Hodgson, Anthony Anders, Otis Noble III, Troy Hoye, Adon & Rubin Navarette and many more echoing names like “Ricky” or “Hank” or “Javier” and those faces on repeat. I wish I could show you them all. They were young, bright, loud and on their way to the world. In their colors and swag they were already princes and kings holding court. I saw their stars in motion, transitioning, and ReChard very much among them.

Like The Outsiders, lifelong friends after Rantoul High (Richard Johnson, Jr., Larry Smith, ReChard, (gray shirt?), Brady(?), Otis Noble III)

But back to that term “adult” as it will help those reading this hang in there a bit more and refine how and why it is, ReChard became and remained meaningful in my life. This may come off as strange, but as a kid I found the world rather electrifying, and I was particularly impressed upon by those with special personalities. I took an internal amusement in absorbing others and making a study of them, not unlike myself today. Basically, the closet thing I possess to a photographic memory are those memories of those kids. I call it “Stand By Me Syndrome,” because these hours, exchanges, faces, live and have lived perpetually in me like film vignettes about the great hearts and depths of kids. There is something about how all those hours of youth lived there, the innocence of things even if we were all dealing with things, dealing with each other, some had it far worse or “better” than the next. I realize it wasn’t all perfect but at times, because of the way we all went through class, the halls, recess, the lunchroom, always the gym games, there was bonding, something better, at times, magical, possibly more loving. And it would never really be that way again or as good in many respects.

Still, in these films that have played over and over in my brain like never ending loops, resonating in my spirit in perpetuity – ReChard Collins has been a major star in them. And I don’t say that because he’s gone in as some sentiment for sentiment, alone – it’s just true. His light lived in me because light never dies and to me that is evidence of life beyond what has occurred as upsetting as his passing obviously is.

Strangely, I both do and don’t remember the first time I met or encountered ReChard. The details of that almost don’t matter. It was like he and his light were suddenly just “there.” As some will recollect, the school hallways can seem very dark at certain hours and I feel like he just walked out of the shadows like he spiritually came from there but was a beacon there was something funny, slightly awkward about him. He made the dark – well, lighter. If one wasn’t first struck by his large and amusing eyes that bore such kindness and empathy, it would’ve been his demeanor that showed a stranger or someone new like myself, he was approachable and willing to be friends. He’d do a head nod, bordering on a bow along with a wave to tell you he was a safe place in a person. Which he proved to be and bore out on many days and in many situations. He offered you his humanity always, his humor alongside of that for sure – let it be known that ReChard Collins was a very sweet and funny kid. It was like he had a magic bag filled with both and knew precisely when to dole some out to you and walked with those things, daily. He, himself, probably wasn’t always in the best of spirits but if he saw you were down, even slightly, there he was to offer you some pick-me-up through a “hey, what’s up” nod or a funny face or silly dance move. ReChard went out of his way to perform this role. He was very much the pick-you-up-kid. Like many, I came to look to him for this personality, this humor. It was a special break in the monotony of school or the day. He could tell others had insecurities, so he played to that. If he saw you feeling down on yourself for them, he played up his own to show you he was your friend in that and life wasn’t so bad.

Chanute Kids & My Friends, ReChard, Tracy Fitzgerald, Derrick Hayes

One of his best and most memorable of the “pick us up” antics was when he’d feign seriousness or would pretend you’d said something so outrageous that you were no longer worth his time. Make no mistake, ReChard opened himself up to be be poked fun at, but part of it was the way he’d react taking it all to the next level. I’d say whatever absurd thing it was and ReChard would pause, then stiffen up his body really tall, raising his long neck up even higher and just give you this blank stare which he’d either break from at some point, dropping the act all back into a smile, or he’d pivot and just walk away in a manner that would’ve made Chaplin or Buster Keaton burst out laughing. The range of funny faces and mannerisms he had on tap are literally incalcuable and he dispensed their range, effortlessly.

This was especially funny to watch him do to our girl classmates and ReChard was certainly aware of the entertainment value. Such a performer and this may have been is most routine act come to think of it. They’d come intiate some sort of conversation and he’d stand there staring down at them which is where he’d begin to quiver one eyeball or his eyes would grow wider or he’d purse his mouth in some kind of way, all to their annoyance and at some point he’d break them. He’d do his about face and do an extended, long legged retreat like he had no more time for them. They’d either chase after him begging for his friendship back or just stand there and put as he’d given them so much no-nonsense. Watching him easily outpace them, teasing them just enough that they might catch him before taking off was again, the stuff of high comedy. But even when it was serious, as feelings were involved, it was only so serious. He was just quick to turn around and hug them up and all was forgiven. If ReChard liked or loved you, you pretty much always had that on tap. Baked into this “funny guy,” was someone incredibly grown up and well beyond his years.

Rechard & the pride of his life, daughter, Arielle. She’s quite grown up now!

When we were in the 8^th grade, I fell in love for the first time (Christina Colby), with all of the moodiness and love drama. All of your stuff seems especially on display in those finite school rooms, the good, the taboo, ups and downs. There was a breakup hour, albeit temporary and ReChard was friends with us both. And ReChard knew what was up at some gut levels that exceeded typically the depth of our peers generally. He knew exactly how to show you he cared, was there, going to the extra effort to make you laugh even if he saw you were too down to give him the response back you might ordinarily. Yet, he didn’t mind. He was sensitive to that part, too.

As I sit here, I lack access to my yearbooks to show those that didn’t know him them or at all, ReChard had something very Richard Pryor about him that was his own. And you could tell he was a kid who’d been exposed to those club and stand-up comedy records that kids weren’t supposed to listen to at their age, but were well circulated. The Chanute kids were cool like that.

Double Trouble College guys, ReChard & Larry Smith

“Re’Chard” Back Row. Derek Hayes always looking like he’s up to something.

This won’t be news to many, but ReChard was or also had the total performer package. His geeky, funny kid side was only equal to the way he moved. He had the dancer vibe in him, and most certainly, the athlete. He had A LOT of power in his physique and in the same way he made comedy or kindness seem effortless, the same could be said of him on the basketball court and apparently track, albeit am blanking there. While others will have better recollection of those games or specifics, like a fellow classmate and not unsimilar friend of our’s in personality, Brian Frerichs, ReChard was not to be underestimated in his wiry or lean appearance. Like Brian, he could seriously move down a court and move a ball in high performance capacity. I remember seeing him shine there and being celebrated. It’s one thing to be just an accomplished athlete, it’s another level to possess all of the other qualities that ReChard owned as a human being. He was by nature team spirited or a born, teammate. ReChard was going to have your back and had no problem giving you the ball so you could have the spotlight, and yes, he got to take a little credit. Basketball was just one more “court” in life for ReChard to share his human magic. And yet, never made it overly about himself. He was basically wired, and always lived – to give. Even if you never stopped to recognize that as you went along as kids, you were living it inside of yourself as his friend. It’s also how he held you. It was an unspoken exchange some of us find words for later.

There’s some kind of irony in my mind of Rechard’s later life friends or military buddies only knowing or meeting the 6’4 man, who at various life stages, was broadly built as a truck and upon first sight, would guess in certain moments, could be, intimidating. I will never forget seeing that version of him at one of the Rantoul Township High School Reunion functions for the first time in 30 years. It was fairly jarring and sort of life shattering or my Stand-By-Me-Syndrome. You could say I was snapped to the reality of “who” I was actually seeing. I was very much looking at a giant version of an 8^th Grader named Rechard Collins! And he was glaring at me with a very serious face not unlike that veiled funny 7^th grader might have! I think he saw my shock or something but didn’t give it too much as here was this very respectful dude trying to be respectful. I confess I was doing my best to conceal the fact that this inner life movie of my own resists change as its a very special archive of a kind.

A True Serviceman

Confessedly, my later archival recollection of ReChard in high school is weaker as we were both off living these other paths. I’d garner to say we said our hellos and the like but I don’t really remember them much. ReChard was doing sports, I was doing art and some different soul searching. Eventually life would go on its merry way. I’d literally heard or knew nothing of ReChard afterwards. So, our “reunion” conversations proved to be somewhat minimal. I’m not sure if I knew he was attending or what the scoop was or what we may have even talked about. It wasn’t a negative really but as reunions go, we just were about other people, moments and like all “adults,” had schedules. I’d love to have clicked with him and reminisced, laughed, but that just didn’t happen. Adulthood has a funny way at making old friends, strangers. Yet, changes, no changes, I could still see evidence of the ReChard I’d known inside of this man I was now in the presence of who was for all intensive purposes – a serious man. As it should be. He was afterall, a father, a soldier, a fraternal brother, a caretaker, protector, advisor, all of it. Its what kings are supposed to be. Even so, I like “a prince among men,” more. It seems more, well – him.

ReChard, The Gentle Giant

Since learning of his passing, other than finding some comfort in this composition, if it can be said, I have smiled over looking at photos and videos of him on his social media, those captures of his friends. Where I most recognized the ReChard I remember, and in no way surprising, are in the photos of him with children and they being held by him. His face is so illuminated and made youthful like their innocence takes him all the way back to those earliest days of himself. He looks lighter somehow. This makes me, his old school chum, happy. I’m happy he had those connections, such access to love and family, and them to him. He clearly touched so many lives.

ReChard with his “Bestie”, Kendyl

My biggest regret is that ReChard will never be able to read this or at least in the earthly terms we say such things. I’d like to have shared my grown-up love for him or love for him as I once knew him. Something tells me he’d have liked that. In a way, it doesn’t really matter as our kid souls are still pals in that never-ending movie that was our childhood and where, like his spirit rests now, ReChard once more, has been made – perfect. 

                    To Rechard’s family, his daughter and friends of every stage – we were all so lucky and I share deeply in your loss.
                                                                                     – Shannon Scott, July 15, 2026

ReChard, Man’s Best Friend.

Special “Thank You” for all those who posted photos online and hope you don’t mind their use to tell his story a little more. A major shout-out to Derrick Hayes for his video homage to our brother gone by – Props.