I’m proud to say Jared Jensen was my step brother. I watched him grow from a small kid into a real hero that people speak of with reverence and pride. You don’t get to see that too often in life, so when you do it’s something you should not take for granted.
When I first met him he was around 10, and had these huge glasses and was just the nicest, but most awkward little guy. His brother Jeff and I used to tease him, as we did to everyone, including each other, in the course of our daily foolishness. Mind you, Jeff and I had to tease people to draw the attention away from our soccer mullets. Despite the teasing, he still had this dignity about him, dignity that defied his size and appearance. Like you could do whatever you wanted to him, but you couldn’t take away what was inside. It was a kind of thing you’re born with.
Jeff and I used to spend a lot of time together, hanging out at his house while Debbie, his mom was at work. One of our prized possessions in the year 1987 was the U2 album, the Joshua Tree. Still today one of my favorites, Jeff and I used to play it on this shitty little tape player over and over and over. Jared was right there with us listening along for hours. I know that U2 stuck in Jared’s heart, because they played it today at his funeral. Where the Streets Have No Name…
When Jared got a little older he joined in our endless basketball games in the driveway. We had this crooked hoop in this small driveway, and we would have 4 or 6 or more guys at a time playing for hours on end. In my memory, Jared went from really small to tall and strong overnight. Next thing I knew there was this lanky strong guy who was getting harder to handle every day. He wasn’t too keen on taking any more of my shit on the basketball court. He started to give it back.
God has a way of making things even out with people, and if Jared was blessed with grace in his personality, God took it away on the basketball court. He had this way of taking the ball way out past the 3 point line, staring everyone down, lowering his head and just taking off towards the basket. Everyone would get out of his way as he leapt into the air, legs spread, arms extended, and just launched the ball at the backboard. It would sometimes go in, but a lot of times it would careen off the backboard in all directions. He never once was embarrassed or discouraged. He would just get the ball again and do the same thing until one went in. He always wore his serious determined face when he was playing. All heart. If you stayed out there long enough he would just wear you down with persistence. Funny thing was, last time I played with him he was on fire, hitting all his shots.
The other thing I remember from that time was spending hours at the dinner table just cracking each other up. God knows if we entertained anyone else, but we all sure entertained each other. Jeff and I would be making some smart aleck jokes going back and forth, and then Jared would come with some comment out of left field that would make us fall off our chairs laughing. Literally.
Jeff, Jared’s brother, said the other day that Jared had a way of being serious when he shouldn’t be and when he should have, he would burst out laughing. I can’t think of a better way to describe Jared. He was really confounding, and he would surprise you all the time, most always in a good way. He could make you laugh, make himself laugh, and really was enjoyable to be around (unless you were playing poker).
They talked at the funeral about Jared’s mountain biking. We got to see a lot of that first hand. One time in particular, when my Dad first moved to Colorado we had the bright idea to mountain bike down Pikes Peak. We got dropped off near the top, at Devil’s Playground. We each had a banana and a bottle of water and a rented mountain bike that was probably pulled from a dumpster the day before. Sometime during the 5 hour trip, during the 4 hours and 59 minutes we were lost, we came upon a huge dropoff. Maybe chest high, but in the middle of a descent with trees and rocks all around. Jared had been the only one of us to get a full suspension bike, so anytime we saw any large jump whatsoever we would holler at Jared to try it out. He kind of shook his head and walked his bike up to where he could get a good run at it. We couldn’t believe he was going to do it but he did. He went at it, not just a tentative jump, but he peddled into the thing and was probably picking up speed when he went off way too fast. I think the next thing to hit the ground was his shoulder. Somehow he had turned sideways. Tabletopped. It was awesome though. He went for it all out, of course. We all cringed, and when we saw he was ok we all roared our approval. We had a lot of crashes that day, but none that I remember like that one. Jared got up, and in Jared style, got back on the bike and kept going.
While some things weren’t his strongsuit, Jared certainly had the chops to be an actor. Acting was Jared’s passion. By all accounts he was extremely talented. He won all sorts of awards when he was younger. Thespian of the Year at a performing arts school in Rockford. Graduated with a degree in theatre. Try being a younger brother with a bunch of older guys around and tell them you like acting. Can you imagine? That speaks as much to Jared’s determination and dignity as much as anything. He held on to that as he became an adult. So much so that when he graduated he supplied us with another one of the head-scratching Jared moments.
Jared moved out to LA to pursue his career in acting, post-college. He got a job with one of the studios in their offices to gain experience and maybe a way into auditions, I suppose. We got the regular updates about things he had tried out for and waited to hear some good news about a part or a role. He apparently became discouraged and moved home after a while.
I was disappointed for him, because I knew what a good actor he was. Next time I saw him when I was home I pulled him aside and asked what happened. He said something to the effect of, “Man, Los Angeles is so fake, I mean, they’re not even good actors. And they’re really short”. Not in a bitter way, just that he was really disappointed that he didn’t find more people who loved theatre like he did. That’s just my impression, anyway. Again, Jared’s innocence and sincerity just make you shake your head. Jared was too good for LA, had too much heart, and I’m glad he came back.
He tried acting in Chicago for a while, and then moved to Colorado Springs to follow his older brother into the police force. We were all in disbelief when he made that move. I just couldn’t for the life of me imagine someone with Jared’s make up being a policeman. He was creative, artistic, and loved theatre. How on earth would this work out?
Well, again, Jared surprised us all. He went full on into his work. Did a great job and became the best officer he could. I come back to Jared’s determination and dignity. Just like his acting, ask any of his colleagues about how he did his job. Ask the 4000 people who showed up Monday. Ask the people who he helped during the course of his career who came to show their support. He loved it, had a passion for it, and put everything he had into it. His life.
We’ll miss him terribly. Faith is all you can turn to now because there aren’t any answers that will make it easier. Only to remember his life and to pass it on the best you can.
If you would like to learn more about Jared you can visit
http://www.legacy.com/gazette/Obituaries.asp?Page=Notice&PersonID=16842517
Memorial donations can be made to the Officer Jared Jensen Memorial Fund in care of the Colorado Springs Credit Union, 426 S. Cascade Avenue, Colorado Springs, CO 80903
