Malaika Ebony King
This is a deeply personal story, one I never imagined I would put in written form and share with others.
This story is in honor of my close friend, Malaika, in celebration of International Friendship Day. While I don’t delve into every aspect of our friendship or every memory I have of her (I would still be writing if I did), this summarizes the ups and downs we had, like nearly all relationships experience.
For those who read this and know Malaika, I hope this does not sully the memory you have of her; that is clearly not my intention. I simply want to share what her presence in my life meant to me and how she forever changed it.
I arrived at my new Air Force duty station in Maryland just prior to Christmas in 1999. Coming from my previous location in Alaska, I was looking forward to life back in the lower-48 again (not to mention a bit different weather). After checking in with my unit, I was assigned my dormitory room and I began to settle into my new home.
The first week or so at my new unit were mostly orientation and filling out paperwork. After orientation, I was assigned to the Bay Orderly office. Bay Orderly is like a janitorial crew for the dormitories and surrounding military unit offices. We would do trash pickup, cleaning of public restrooms, landscaping work, and other basic routine maintenance. Assignment to Bay Orderly was standard procedure for everyone in the dormitories at some point in time, particularly when waiting to start your actual job (that paperwork tended to take a bit longer). I was used to this by this point, having gone through this multiple times over the previous four years of my military career.
On one particularly cold January morning (I don’t recall the exact day), I reported to the Bay Orderly office to find out what was on the docket for the coming week. I was surprised to see we had a couple of new arrivals. They had recently arrived and finished their orientations. Coming straight out of technical school, this was the first duty location in their young careers. We introduced ourselves to one another and disposed of the usual minutiae of our Air Force lives to that point. I was the “veteran” of the crew at a whopping 22 years old. I gravitated towards this one young airman almost immediately. She was this skinny, 18-year old black girl who was an inch or so taller than me. The girl’s name was Malaika. Her name was so intriguing to me as I’d never heard it before (or since, for that matter). She told me it meant “angel” in Swahili. She could also speak fluent German (not what one might come to expect from a young black girl).
Over the next couple of weeks, Malaika and I got to know each other a bit better. When the talk came to music, her favorite band came up and I was shocked when she said Metallica. I LOVE Metallica. She was getting more captivating with each passing day. Once work was done, many days we would hang out in one of our rooms (usually mine, since I had a TV and a computer at the time). We had a great time just talking about everything under the sun. I’d grown quite comfortable with Malaika and I came to share some rather personal details about my life with her. She was very attentive and understanding. I’d made another good close friend.
On the Road Again
At this point in my life, I was getting over a bit of a depressing period stemming from the last couple of months at my previous duty station in Alaska (something I will not delve into here). Malaika enabled me to move past this depression; something for which I was eternally grateful (although I don’t think I ever told her).
Since I had a vehicle, we could go anywhere we wanted. We went to the movies one night and saw Pitch Black. It was a sort of sci-fi/horror movie starring Vin Diesel. I was never much for horror movies. I have too much of an active imagination and start seeing things that aren’t there when I’m by myself (especially in my somewhat dark and dingy dorm room). I agreed to go see it anyway, and we had a great time. It wasn’t really that scary and I felt more at ease with Malaika next to me watching it.
Something else we liked to do every now and then was shoot pool. Malaika wasn’t terribly good, but she didn’t care. I considered myself an o.k. player, so I wound up winning most of the games we played. I didn’t dare try to throw a game in her favor. She would have known and I would have never heard the end of it. If Malaika was going to play a game and win it, she was going to do it on her own without extra help. I respected that.
I’ll never forget this one time we went to shoot some pool. We had recently watched the movie The Waterboy (I think I had the VHS tape in my possession at that point) and in this one flashback scene in the movie, the disco song Ring My Bell by Anita Ward was playing. For some reason, it just cracked us both up to no end. Well, since the pool hall had a jukebox, we decided to see what kind of music was available. We both just about fell on the floor when we saw that Ring My Bell was in the playlist. Of course, we HAD to play that song. The whole time it was playing we were laughing our asses off. I wasn’t checking, but the guy who worked there probably rolled his eyes and had a strange look on his face. We didn’t care and we had a blast.
I remember one time Malaika told me that she didn’t have a driver’s license. I mean, I wasn’t one to talk because I didn’t get my license until after I graduated high school either. I told her that I’d be more than happy to teach her how to drive, if she didn’t mind learning in my truck. You see, I had a big Dodge Ram 1500 extended cab truck at that time, a vehicle that’s not the typical size for a young person learning to drive. Malaika didn’t care. She wanted to do it and I obliged.
We started out by driving around on the base, where there wasn’t much traffic. Not long after, with her confidence growing, we ventured onto some highways. I always made sure I had my eyes on the other cars when we were on the highway (Maryland driver’s are notorious for driving rather crazy). Malaika was unfazed by it all. On one trip back to the dorms, I actually nodded off in the passenger seat while she was driving on the highway. If I wasn’t comfortable enough with her and didn’t trust her, there is no way I would have done that. I think Malaika really appreciated that and it served to boost her confidence that much more.
My favorite road trip with Malaika was the time we drove up to Pennsylvania. I rented a car for a weekend and let her drive it around (with me in it, of course) so she could get the feel for a more “normal-sized” vehicle. She loved to drive. I think it’s the feeling of freedom one gets. I had that same feeling when I got my first car in Alaska. I would drive around EVERYWHERE on my days off.
We’d always joked about going up to Intercourse, Pennsylvania (cue childish laughter here). Well, I mapped out a route for us to take, and we were on our way. We drove a bit on the highway, but a lot of it was side roads. I distinctly remember when we started to drive through Lancaster. We were stopped at a traffic light and I snapped this one picture of her.
For some reason, this is my favorite picture of Malaika. There’s just something about the way her head is tipped to one side with that smile of hers, retainer and all. I don’t know why, but we never took any pictures of us at the signs in Intercourse (I think it was getting dark by the time we got there). Alas, a missed opportunity for a funny memory.
Things are About to Get Real
It had been a few weeks since we were both on Bay Orderly (the exact time frame escapes me). Malaika and I weren’t spending every night together, but we might as well have been. One night, we were in my room not doing anything in particular, perhaps just listening to music or watching a movie. I decided to make a Jack and Coke, which for me was 25% Jack Daniel’s and 75% Coke (I was a lightweight to say the least). Malaika made herself a drink as well. I know, I was 22 years old and she was 18 years old, and I should not have let her have a drink. Well, you know, we were both in the military and if we could die for our country, we could both have a drink. No one was going to be the wiser anyway.
We continued about the evening just talking about a number of things. I’m not going to get into the specific details, but after a while, Malaika and I shared an intimate moment with each other. I could not believe what was happening. This was the first time I’d ever been with a woman in that way. Malaika already knew this about me (like I said, I shared some personal things with her). My nervousness was very apparent, as I could not perform when the ultimate moment came about. Malaika was more than understanding and told me that it was probably for the best that we didn’t go through with it. I’m forever thankful that she didn’t laugh or belittle me in that moment of vulnerability. I don’t think I could have ever looked her in the eye again if that happened. We left my room and went on a short walk around the dormitory area and just talked. It was both the most beautiful and most embarrassing night of my life, and she was there to witness it all. To this day, I’m still grateful that I shared that moment with her.
After that night, things just carried on like they had previously. We still hung out, went places together, and life was good. At one point, Malaika was able to get reacquainted with her high school friend Jenny, whom she first met while they were both in high school in Germany (Malaika was an Army brat). It was so awesome to see them both reconnect after some time apart. Jenny and I became friends through our mutual relationship with Malaika, something else for which I’m very thankful.
This Can’t Be Happening
At some point, all of my paperwork cleared and I was finally back doing my “real” job. Malaika was still stuck in Bay Orderly purgatory. Even though we were both on day schedules, we weren’t hanging out quite as much as we were previously. While she was still doing Bay Orderly, Malaika met a fellow airman named Clint and they began dating. I met Clint and he was a really good guy. So, naturally, I hated his guts.
Malaika and I were not a couple, and never were. We were just close friends who shared a special moment one night. I got so jealous of Clint and his relationship with Malaika. I didn’t know how to handle it. Being the young and immature person that I was at that point in my life, I started to push her away. I acted like such a jackass towards the both of them. Malaika was not happy about my behavior and properly put me in my place. I’d never had a friend do that to me before, and I, unfortunately, reacted with anger and hatred.
There was a stretch of time where we did not speak to each other a great deal. It was getting so bad that even Jenny was getting caught in between our arguments with each other. I don’t know why Malaika was still my friend at that point. My behavior was despicable and I did not deserve her friendship. But, being the stubborn person she was, Malaika did not want to lose her close friend. After a short time, we both decided to leave the past behind us and mutually agreed to continue our friendship. Looking back, I’m so glad she was the bigger and better person, because I would have likely lost her forever otherwise.
Malaika and Clint decided to move in together, something her and I had actually discussed at one point, prior to her relationship with Clint (a fact that also led to more jealousy on my part). They both came by my room to pick up a couple of her things that were left there some time ago. When I heard the knock at the door, I was on the phone at the time with my friend Jessica (I had recently begun seeing her a couple of weeks after Malaika and I had made up). I was not very cordial when I opened the door to greet them both. I was still talking on the phone the whole time and just kind of hurriedly got them out of my room. I had no ill-will and didn’t mean to be disrespectful, but it obviously didn’t come off that way. Malaika sent me a message explaining to me that she thought I was still mad at her. I never replied to her to let her know we were all good. I would come to regret that decision.
I was in my room the day after she had stopped by, and a coworker, Rich, knocked on my door to see if I wanted to do something. I don’t remember where the conversation went, but somehow the topic of Malaika came up. Rich told me that she was in a car accident the previous day and didn’t make it. My jaw dropped to the floor. I didn’t know how to react. He could see the expression on my face, and he knew I needed some time alone. I raced around everywhere trying to verify what he just told me was true. I think I went over to the Bay Orderly office to speak with the supervisor there, and my worst fears were confirmed. Malaika and Clint were involved in a car accident outside one of the gates to the base. Malaika was driving Clint’s car and they were struck on the driver’s side by, of all things, a cement mixer truck. Clint survived, but Malaika was now gone. It was just a month shy of her 19th birthday.
I was devastated. I stood there in stunned silence. After a minute, I completely broke down in my room. I had never felt such overwhelming pain in my life. I needed to talk to someone, and it needed to be now. I called Jessica. I must have been on the phone with her for over two hours, just bawling my eyes out. She comforted me as best as she could. In all honesty, I really needed a shoulder to cry on and someone to embrace. Sadly, that was not in the cards at that time.
Once Jessica talked me down, we said our goodbyes on the phone. This effectively ended the relationship we had at that point (I only recently got back in touch with Jessica, after over 20 years of silence). After laying in my bed for a little while, something finally dawned on me in the middle of the night. Jenny was on her way to Orlando for vacation, and she had no idea what had occurred. I struggled with calling her right away, but I simply could not let this earth-shattering news fester anymore. I called her cell phone, and had the horrible burden of telling Jenny that Malaika was gone. I’m not sure exactly how coherent I was on the phone, because I was a sobbing mess again. Jenny was just as stunned as I was when I first heard the news. I hated that I ruined her vacation before it began (I know, in the grand scheme of things, kind of a back-burner type of item, given the circumstances). I simply couldn’t NOT tell her and have her find out a week after the fact. I was afraid she would be so furious with me if I didn’t tell her right away.
I hung up with Jenny and realized that I needed to go to work in a few hours. There was no way I was going to be able to get any sleep, so I just threw on my uniform and made my way into work. I was not expected quite so early by the midnight shift, but I didn’t get into the reasoning for my early arrival. Once my coworkers started arriving, they could sense something was off. Rich already knew and I told the others what had happened. I think one coworker, Heather, could sense how hard this was on me. It was a long shift, to say the least, but it briefly got my mind to think about something else for a few hours.
A few days after Malaika’s accident, there was a service being held on the base for her. It wasn’t a formal service, as that would be in the following days at Arlington National Cemetery. I knew it would be extremely difficult for me to attend by myself, so I asked Heather to accompany me. She was more than happy to go along. She could tell how much Malaika’s death shook me.
After the service, those in attendance got in a line to greet Malaika’s mourning family. I met her mother, Karin, and I didn’t know what to say. I muttered something, the likes of which I cannot remember, and I made my way out to find Heather. She gave me the biggest hug and I just lost it. I needed that embrace so badly. If only I had the wherewithal to call her the day I found out about the accident. I simply wasn’t in the right frame of mind in that moment.
The Beginning of the End
I found out when the formal service was for Malaika and I called Jenny to let her know. I can’t remember who else went with us, I want to say Jenny’s mom and maybe her boyfriend (those kinds of details are fuzzy at this point). We all traveled down to Arlington via the D.C. Metro train system. Once we got there, we had no idea where the chapel was to attend the service. I happened to spot an Air Force Lieutenant Colonel, in full dress uniform, the same as I was, and told him we were looking for the funeral service for Malaika. He just so happened to be heading to the service as well, and gave us a ride. For the life of me, I wish I remembered his name, because I would thank him to no end for what he did for all of us that day.
We all made it just in time. We found an open row of pews and sat down. I was already starting to break down, but I was trying my hardest to hold it together. I got a glimpse of Clint, only a row or two in front of us. He was devastated. Looking back, I wish I would have given him an embrace and offered my condolences. In that moment, that was the furthest thing from my mind. To be perfectly honest, I was so consumed with my own pain and despair, that I could not give an account of how the rest of my party was reacting. Honestly, it was a funeral, so the air had already been let out of the building for everyone, long before the service had begun.
Once the service ended, Malaika was wheeled down the aisle. As it passed Clint, he placed his hand upon the casket. It was such a tender yet sad moment. Once she left, we slowly made our way out to the parking lot. I can’t remember if we rode with the Colonel again, or took a bus to the plot where the service would conclude (at this point, it kind of doesn’t matter).
I’d only attended one other funeral up to this point in my life. It was my paternal grandfather’s funeral, and I was only eight years old. This was a totally different ballgame and a totally different environment. I wasn’t sure where to go, so I stood where most of the other military personnel in attendance stood. We rendered our salutes and the seven rifles began to fire. I stood there with the crispest salute I’d ever performed in my military career, and all the while the tears began to flow down my cheeks. This was the lowest point I’d felt in a very long time. After the last shots were fired, the flag placed upon her casket was tightly folded and presented to Karin. The lines of condolences formed one final time. Again, I cannot recall what I said to Karin. One thing I do remember was seeing Malaika’s father there, being the stoic Army man that he was. I’m not sure what expression he had on his face (I couldn’t bare to look him in the eye). I saw Clint at the final service, as he was seated near Malaika’s family. He was beyond distraught. His show of pain and suffering summed up how I felt at that same moment. I soon caught back up with Jenny and we briefly embraced. We caught a ride on a bus on the way to the exit of Arlington and we began to find our way back to the Metro. Life without Malaika now had to officially begin.
I wish I could say this was the beginning of the healing period for me, but it was not. Oh sure, I did my best to start moving on with my life and, for the most part, I did. Life was starting to get back on track. Jenny and I still got together and hung out, like we did prior to Malaika’s death. I can’t speak for her, but having a friend that can understand my pain when it comes to Malaika is truly a blessing.
Life was moving right along, until only a few months later, when Thanksgiving came around. By this time, I had been promoted and I moved out of the dorms into an apartment off base. While I think it was good for me to not be in my old dorm room anymore (too much history there), being alone on Thanksgiving in that apartment was no picnic either. I had that day off from work and I was planning on just spending that day alone and making a small dinner for myself.
Unfortunately, my dinner didn’t turn out too well and I just got so enraged. All of the memories of Malaika had come back and were flooding my mind again. I was wallowing in my own despair and didn’t want to be alive anymore. For the first time in my life, the serious thoughts of ending my life began to creep into my mind.
Renewal
I called my friend Jill. We met my last year in Alaska, where she was still stationed at this point, and we were very close friends. I needed to hear a friendly voice. Thankfully, I still knew her schedule and she was on a down day when I called. We talked for a bit, not mentioning one word about what was going through my mind. After talking with Jill for a while, those thoughts were beginning to subside.
I hung up with Jill and just sat in my living room for a moment. Suddenly, I began to think about how awful the pain I felt was and how I just could not put my family and friends through that same type of anguish. I’m not the only one who’s life was turned upside down by the recent events. I had to stay strong, I had to be there for Jenny if she needed me.
It was in that moment that I knew I would be able to make it. I had reached the deepest depths of depression and pain and I was able to crawl my way out. Jill never knew it at the time (I would tell her years later), but that talk with her truly saved my life. I’m forever indebted to her for that and I never forget to tell her I love her every time we’re together or speak on the phone.
I wanted to pay Malaika a visit on what would have been her birthday the following year in 2001. It was actually a day after her birthday because I couldn’t get down to Arlington in time. I was scheduled to fly out to Oregon the following day to meet Jill for a cross-country trip (another story for another time). My new friend Stephanie knew how badly I wanted to visit Malaika and that I needed support. It would be my first time seeing her since the funeral.
Stephanie and I made our way down to Arlington, via the Metro, and got to Arlington in the middle of a driving rain and thunderstorm. We had no umbrellas and no rain gear. We walked from the train station all the way to see Malaika and we were absolutely drenched. I didn’t care. I made a promise to see my friend on her birthday, and I was not going to break that promise, no matter what. I didn’t get to stay as long as I would have liked, but I got to talk with Malaika briefly. Stephanie and I made our way back to the Metro and finally left, the drowned rats that we were.
As the years passed, I always tried to make my way down to visit Malaika on her birthday. While I was still living in Maryland, I was able to maintain that nearly every year. Many a time, I would take a full day off of work to make my trip. I always tried to go down to see Malaika with Jenny, but our schedules just never met up to allow that. Most of the time I went down to see Malaika by myself, and it was very difficult. The reality that she was gone was always a shock to my system.
Now that I’m living in Florida, I don’t get to visit Malaika on her birthday much at all anymore. When my wife Lisa and I go back to see her family for Christmas, I usually try to make a trip to Arlington to see Malaika. Occasionally, I’m up in Maryland in the summertime when Lisa travels back for work and I attempt to make time to see Malaika then. I’ve since left the Metro behind and just drive to Arlington now. I distinctly remember one time I went to see Malaika and when I arrived at her headstone, I noticed a nice display of flowers in front of it. That made me so happy. I don’t know if that was part of something that the cemetery did periodically, or if someone special had left them for her. I’ve always believed it was the latter.
Life Goes On
Malaika taught me what it is to be a true friend. You can’t push someone out of your life and throw away a friendship just because you have an argument about something. If you do that, you’ll be all alone in the world. The real strength of the friendship and bond between those friends can only grow stronger. I truly feel Malaika and I were getting back on track with our friendship. We only hit a bump in the road. This has happened with a few of my close friends since she passed, even Jill. We just have to talk and smooth out those bumps as best as possible and move forward.
It has now been over 20 years since Malaika left this Earth. She’s been gone for longer than she was alive, which is mind-boggling to me. Even with all of the time that’s passed, it still hurts me that I can’t see and talk to her anymore. The pained expressions on the faces of her mother and Clint just broke my heart, and still do, to this day. The finality of the whole situation was just too much to comprehend back then, and it still is even now.
It has been a flood of emotions trying to write this story. When I came across some of the e-mails Malaika and I sent back and forth to each other, and I read the hurtful things exchanged, it just broke my heart. I got so angry and frustrated at my younger self for the way I acted long ago. However, I was reminded by both Jenny and Heather that I mustn’t be mad at my old self. I should choose to remember only the good times and not let the memory of Malaika be forgotten.
While Malaika was only a part of my life for a mere six months, the good times did far outweigh the bad. Looking through the few pictures that I have of her is always refreshing. The time we broke out a Ouija board will always stick out as a unique and special night. Whether we were listening to music, shooting pool, or hanging out with Jenny, thinking about those times will forever bring a smile to my face. I think the best times were when we were in a car and Malaika was behind the wheel. We didn’t even have to be conversing with each other; just watching her beam with confidence and enjoying the freedom being behind the wheel of a car affords was enough to brighten my day. Frankly, any time spent with Malaika, no matter what we were doing, was a joy. There are so many more wonderful memories of her stowed away in the deepest recesses of my mind; I hope I can, one day, unlock them all.
I don’t know if there is an afterlife, or what happens to us when we die. But, if there is another place we get to go and see those we love, I sure hope to see Malaika there. I love you, Malaika Ebony King, and I miss you more than you’ll ever know.
Along with my favorite picture of Malaika that I shared already, below are nearly all of the pictures I have of her. We lived in the age before smartphones, so taking selfies and other types of photos like that just wasn’t a thing yet. Please excuse the quality as these are scans of the physical pictures in my possession. Sadly, we never had a picture taken of the two of us together. I’ve added a caption below each photo to provide what little context I can (just click a picture).
I would like to thank my wife, Lisa, and my dear friends Jenny, Heather, Shanti, Risa, and Jane for all carrying me through the writing of this story. It brought back some deep-rooted emotions, and made for a very difficult stretch of days. Each one of them provided their own unique perspective and wisdom, all of which I am so deeply appreciative.
I would especially like to pay my respects to Karin. Throughout the process of drafting this story, I was able to get in touch with her, with a little help from Jenny, for the first time since that oh so unfortunate day at Arlington all those years ago. While we’ve only exchanged a few e-mails since this story was written, I feel blessed to have gotten the chance to connect with the mother of my friend; a friend who profoundly changed my life. I would not have published this story without Karin’s blessing, which she so graciously provided. Thank you, Karin. I hope my story can provide some comfort in knowing that your beautiful daughter’s memory will never be forgotten.
I can’t recall how many times I read this story before publishing it. After reading it one time, a couple of months after I wrote it, I was inspired to write the following poem:
My Angel
Many a year has passed
And I can’t believe you’re gone
Life was difficult after you first left
And I struggled to move on
I traveled down a dark path
Keeping my life together was hard
Anything but living was on my mind
Eventually I started to heal
But it surely wasn’t easy
Only made possible by my friends
None of which I could live without
You might truly be my guardian angel
Knowing how life turned out
I believe you’ve always got my back
No matter what storms come about
Gone forever in body, never forgotten in my heart
There is a bit of a companion work that goes along with “My Angel”, and that can be found here.
