I was born Christopher Ryan Dueck on November 16, 1981 in Winnipeg, Manitoba and the following is a version of the events that have shaped my life, my beliefs and my love...Like so many out there I was brought up in a good, Christian home in a small town in the middle of nowhere. Yes, I was born in the busy city of Winnipeg, but 3 years into my life I found myself in a town known as Pinawa, Manitoba. God was watching over me early in my life as I had surgury for some intestine problems when I was 3 months old and was also hit by a car in front of our Winnipeg home when I was about 3. Obviously I have lived to tell the tales. You see, my parents were heavily involved in the Church in Pinawa and I found myself believing at a young age. My mom likes to tell me how one day I had a friend over and I was trying to explain to him that the earth was Created by God and not from an explosion of a star. As the story goes we argued for a good hour or so while my mother listened in the kitchen laughing to herself while her 5 year old son duked it out intelectually with his friend. That is a little back story for everything that follows. The story really begins to get interesting as I got into my teens and started to become more independent in my thinking. I began getting more and more isolated as I began hanging around with the "wrong crowd", I guess that is the right cliche to use in this situation. Somehow I never did get involved in the drugs and drinking that my new friends were heavily stuck in, but I did go to their parties and I did begin to witness a side to the world that I had never seen before. I was now part of a group, but I wasn't really like the group and this isolated me even more. I spent more time in my room blairing the Punk Rock that I had grown to love, and everyone else had grown to hate. I cut myself a mohawk and declared myself a punk; the only one in town. If I thought I was an outcast before, I now perceived myself as the bottom of the barrel; the rubbish of society if you will and I loved it; or so I thought. I began having drinks of whatever alcohol my parents had stored away in a cupboard at lunch hour and started reading the works of Marx and the lot, declaring myself a left wing radical, but still I was calling myself a Christian. As I was wallowing in the filth I had created for myself a major life changing experience was waiting for me just over the horizon...
It was March 6th, and a beautiful day from what I remember. It was lunch hour and a couple of friends and I were walking home together. As we passed the house of one of my best friends since I was 4 years old I had a strange feeling to ask him if he wanted to come over for lunch. I ignored the thought and said bye to him and he waved and said "see you later" and walked in good spirits to his house. Back at school that afternoon I noticed that he wasn't in class, but thought maybe one of his younger sibblings was sick and he had had to babysit and thought nothing of it. Later that night I was at Worship Team practice at my Church when my Dad walked into the room and said, "we have to go, something happened to ....(I will not use his name to protect the privacy of his family)." He had hung himself in his basement that afternoon...
to be continued.
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