“He was the meaning of joy,” said John Nordmeyer, an uncle.

There are a bunch of middle aged men across the nation who tonight sit quietly in their living rooms. The TV set might be off.

They didn’t want to eat much tonight.

Many are at their laptops now, silently tap tap tapping out messages to reach out to others. To try to find some, something. Words would help. But, maybe accurate words would actually hurt.

When my husband heard the news at work, he’d immediately sent me an email. The email header said something this rough gruff guy never says. The subject line read: Please pray with me. His email ended, “I’m so sad for them I can’t even talk about this.” I called him right away. He said in that semi-strangled voice that men use when they feel everything and yet numb all at the same time: “Baby we lost four of our boys.”

I had heard; a call had come from a post-trauma colleague just before who was 20 miles outside Little Sioux camp. It’s bad, my friend said. It’s bad. More than half injured bad. 4 dead.

My husband is a scout master, has just raised by hand along with other hardworking scoutmasters an entire litter of little guys for the last many years. They just crossed over from cub scouts to boy scouts three months ago.

I go to banquets with long tables covered with paper tablecloths and eat baked beans and barbeque and soggy corn. I sit through the many awards and beadings and orders conferred on grown men (and women) of every age and condition …those who give huge amounts of their lives weeknights and weekends to teach wood lathing, survival skills, soup kitchen hash slinging, cooking, sewing, finances, stalwartness, honor and manners to a bunch of darling fissioning young scamps.

Then one day, it all comes together. The young scouts line up and their shirts are not sloppy at the belt line anymore, their ties are on straight instead of flying sideways They carry on a conversation that has content instead of giggling like squirrels, they pray together and mean it, play together and achieve together, and mean it.

There are some who critique the Boy Scouts for various reasons, but tonight, with two dead boys aged a mere 13, and the other two dead boys having merely 14 years on this earth… that they are gone after a fierce tornado hit a special Boy Scout camp, a camp called to rendezvous under the banner of Leadership… well, in the Scouts, even though people don’t know each other when they live hundreds and thousands of miles apart, they know each other. They do. Brothers by different mothers. Siempre.

Details about the four boys lives follow here…

Gleaned from AP

The boys killed in the tornado:

Sam Thomsen 13, Omaha teen loved the outdoors and sports - watching University of Nebraska football and playing baseball and basketball. He had a goodhearted rivalry with his pastor, a die-hard Arkansas fan. The son of Sharon and Larry Thomsen was home-schooled. He had two older sisters: one who recently graduated from high school and another who attends Wheaton College in Illinois. Thomsen was active in Sunday school and had recently attended a national youth church program. After returning, he delivered a sermon at the church. “Sam was the light in the room, in every room. He was the joy,” said Franklin Wood, the church’s youth minister. Sam would have turned 14 on Monday.

Aaron Eilerts was a young Renaissance man. The 14-year-old sang, played the flute, ran track, played football, cooked and loved to sew. Whenever a teacher at Robert Blue Middle School in Eagle Grove, Iowa, had a baby, she knew she would get a handmade blanket from Eilerts. He also sewed colorful pillow cases to send to hospitals and made fleece blankets for dogs at an animal shelter. When a windstorm downed a tree on the school’s playground, the slight teenager started chopping it up so it would be easier for city workers to remove…He was runner-up in a statewide competition for character, and designed his school’s yearbook cover in 2006. An only child, Eilerts loved Elvis Presley and sang the Star Spangled Banner solo before school sporting events.

Josh Fennen had an uncanny ability to understand knots. Learning to intertwine ropes, like sailors and outdoorsmen, has long been a cornerstone for the Boy Scouts. But the 13-year-old from Omaha tackled the intricate “monkey’s fist” and “Tom fool’s” knots with no problems. “He could look at a knot and untie and tie it in 20 or 30 seconds,” said his scoutmaster, Doug Rothgeb. “He’s the only boy that could challenge the dads.” Fennen, who had one sister, had recently finished eighth grade at Andersen Middle School in Omaha. At school, he sang in the choir… “He was one of those students who was just willing to jump in and take charge,” his principal Jeff Alfrey said. “He always had his mind working in a lot of different creative ways to get something done.” Like his father, Fennen loved trains and was welding a model that was big enough for him to ride in.

Nearly all of Ben Petrzilka’s young life revolved around Mary Our Queen Church in Omaha. The 14-year-old attended services with his parents and younger brother there. He went to the affiliated Catholic school since kindergarten. Petrzilka would have started eighth grade in the fall. “He loved being in the Scouts” said a teacher. Petrzilka was a quiet young man who loved the outdoors; he loved spending time camping, hunting and fishing with his father. Family members and teachers say Petrzilka was happy-go-lucky and always had a smile on his face.“He was the meaning of joy,” said John Nordmeyer, an uncle.

Imagine being ‘the meaning of joy’ on earth. May all these so very young souls rest in happiness and may especially, their loved ones be comforted now and in the many months yet to come.