Tom, our Leader

While Jim is like a father to me, Tom is like a big brother and is most protective of Darcy, Derek, and even me.  Jeremy too, or anyone he considers weaker.  One time, Grady was being hard on Jeremy, calling him a girl, telling him he needed to bronco up, until Tom finally told Grady to knock it off.  While Tom is tall and thin and somewhat solid, Grady, like all the men in Security, has a marine body and is very trained in hand-to-hand combat.  When Tom stood up to him, Grady looked at Tom in disbelief with his mouth open, but he said and did nothing to Tom, and stopped teasing Jeremy.

When administration matters arise, which occasionally calls for a meeting at Central Lodge, Tom is most professional and takes charge well, not in an over–bearing way, though not weak–mannered either.  His leadership is a comfort to me, but sometimes I felt that Adrian is equally in charge, a strong force in the background.

At our campfires, everyone lets their armor down a bit, Tom most of all, and he tells us animated stories of his rebellious teen years, stories that surprise as well as entertain us.  He tells us with a boyish eagerness that is quite charming and captivating.

Tom got in his share of high school fights.  Coming home a bit bloodied with ripped shirts would engage his father.  Joel (Tom's twin brother) once asked his brother “why all the fights?” and Tom had responded “I just can’t stand it when people are wrong.” 

Joel remembers a time when they were in second grade, and fourth graders were verbally picking on them.  Joel and his brother were tall and thin for their age, and one of Joel’s attackers was a stocky ten–year–old.  Joel only reached the other boy’s chin, and the third boy had a reputation as a contentious bully.  Being called names and shoved a bit didn’t bother Joel much; he just tuned them out.  But it incensed Tom to no end, and at seven years old, Tom swung fists and pulled at the three fourth graders, attempting to land each of them in the mud under the swings, to which he surprisingly succeeded.

One evening in Darcy’s cabin, she and I got our hands on several bottles of red wine and proceeded to get drunk, a rarity for me but not so much for Darcy.  Tom came into Darcy’s cabin, and to his surprise, found us drinking.  He quickly caught up with us, his two gulps to every one of our sips.  When the bottles were empty, Tom revealed that as a teen, he had hated his father and believed him to be an evil man, claiming that his father slept with a couple of neighbors’ wives, took business bribes, and unethically adjusted financial figures.  Darcy stroked his short black hair as Tom looked off in the distance with a hardened face.