Courts Ride

As some of you may know that young man there is my brother, stepbrother to be exact but I hate that word, “step”, I mean I can't even remember a time without him. His name was Robert Benoit, but I’m sure most of you knew him as Court. He was my idol growing up; wherever he went I followed.  I would reluctantly follow him even if he did something we were told not to do like go to a convenience store down the street and buy a juicy juice. We always got caught. There was a time when we were even punished together. The theory was that we were a team so if one of us messed up it was really both of us. So if I got grounded, so did he. When he got sent to bed early…so did I. I didn’t mind getting us both in trouble but I hated when he got me in trouble. If you look at pictures when we were younger it’d be hard to find one that we are not together in. He was a pest at times, as most big brothers are just meant to be, whether it was duct taping my door shut, putting glue on my bedroom doorknob or even stealing the remote, but he usually made up for it. Some of the greatest memories are the simplest like when we would turn the volume on the basement TV way down so we could watch the Scorpion King past nine o’clock. We’d always listen for footsteps walking towards the top of the stairs because we knew our parents were going to tell us to turn it off and go to bed. We sat with bated breath as the door opened and we heard those words. Other times that come to mind were when we would sit at the window on Christmas Eve swearing to each other we just saw Santa or playing Zelda for a solid four hours on the N64.

In more recent times he took a few wrong turns in life, got in a bit of trouble here and there but eventually, and unfortunately, got into drugs. He fought for a while with addiction, going in and out of rehab but in the end it caught up to him. I got a text one day at work that read “Court overdosed” and my heart sank, dropped like a rock. I couldn’t speak and I didn’t really know what to think. I sat in silence for a while until I left for the hospital. When I got there I saw my family in the lobby and couldn’t help but to break down in tears. The next couple days were some of the hardest of my life; I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Id keep telling myself that he’ll snap out of the coma and just come back. I wanted to see him get up and just sign himself out. I wanted him to wake up and make fun of me for how ugly I looked when I cried. That didn’t happen; on April 5th, 2015 he passed away.

 A few days later on April 9th, my twenty-first birthday, his funeral was held in Shelburne Falls, the town where he lived. His friends poured in by the dozens with amazing things to tell and great stories to hear. Some about how much Court helped them through a tough time or how great he was with kids. One in particular was about how he and his friend would sit under the bridge and just talk about their week over a few beers and how much that made things better for them.

 To say the least it was an unconventional birthday, which is why I want to commemorate my birthday this year to him. I am giving myself a “birthday challenge” this year. I am challenging myself on the day I turn 22 to ride by bicycle 222 miles to Provincetown MA as well as try to raise $2,222 for the Opioid Task Force in Greenfield. Every mile is for him and every dollar will go towards helping others with an opioid addiction in hopes of stopping something that has ruined so many lives.

Please know that I truly appreciate you taking the time to read this story, and I hope you consider making a donation of any amount.