I had a very strange evening this week.
A guy I worked with at FOX for several years had been very sick. His family spread the word over the weekend that they'd love to have anyone come by and see him, but we should do it NOW.
Me and a couple of other former work buddies went over to see Max at the hospital around 8pm. When we arrived we were told that they'd removed all the machines.
Max died about 15 minutes after we got there.
In that final moment, surrounded by his wife and his son and his brother and some of his dearest friends, his sister-in-law started singing "Amazing Grace" and we all joined in. It was so sad, but also so sweet. I definitely went there preparing to see him near the end, but I certainly didn't expect to be there when he took his last breath. I'm not going to lie and say that this was an extremely close friend. Max and I worked together for 8 years, and in the 6 years since I left FOX we'd seen each other maybe 3 or 4 times. Mostly just a few facebook posts lately. So you'd think that I would feel strange being there with his closest friends and family at the end, but somehow I'm glad I was there.
The truth is, I wasn't exactly sure if I should even go over there in the first place. And afterward, I still wasn't 100% sure why I did. I've decided that it's really two things:
1) Some jobs are like families.
If you've never had one of those jobs, this may be hard to understand. But in a newsroom you're under the gun ALL the time and these are the people you go to battle with. That's probably a bad analogy, but it's intense time together and often long hours and there are wins and losses all the time. Perhaps a sports team is a more apt comparison. The point is, you go through a lot in a short period of time - and all of it together. There's a special bond there. Case in point - Max worked in Baltimore for a few years before coming to Dallas. On the night he died, the station he worked for there did a very touching tribute to him on the air. Again - he had only worked in Baltimore for a short time and it was TWENTY years ago. These bonds endure.
2) Max was special.
I first met him when I was working for a small TV station making once-a-week visits to the "big city." He always greeted me with a smile. He learned my name. And when I took a job with him at FOX he became a friend and a cheerleader. Any time I did something on-air Max would come in the next day and tell me how great it was (even when it wasn't) and he would always tell me that his wife Marla was my biggest fan. Max was honest and fair, sweet and just so genuine. Ask around - it's hard to find anyone who can remember seeing Max in a bad mood.
Look, we all know Max wasn't perfect. Nobody is. Anyone who knows Max knows that he had his struggles. But I never once saw him take his problems out on anyone else or try to point fingers. Max was kind. Max was caring. And when Max laughed, his entire body was in on the joke - those high shoulders shook and he almost looked like he had a bobblehead.
You never really know what mark you leave on someone and vice versa. Watching the outpouring from friends, coworkers and viewers it's obvious that Max had a big impact on those who knew him. These last few days have taught me that he clearly meant a lot to me, as well.
And yesterday another former co-worker texted me with this: "Was at Max's house today. This photo had a prominent place in his office."
