Jacob & Hannah S.

Both Jacob and Isaac kept me sane and alive through college. Wheaton felt like an environment where we would only be loved if we were perfect, if we could navigate through any issues deemed "sinful" such as mental illness, then we would be worth loving and not just tolerating. But the Carters loved me for exactly who I was in that moment, not who I was supposed to be, and that is such a rare gift. So many people will go their entire lives without having the experience of being loved for who they are, and it hurts to know that fewer people will have that with Jake gone. 

My freshman year doing improv with him, we went on a camping trip as a troupe to bond. Jake spent the entire time preparing all the food, building fires, and making sure everyone was having a good time and loving camping the way he did. As he was driving us back to campus, I was feeling awkward and anxious trying to navigate some nonsense social situations. He noticed, looked at me in the rearview mirror, gave me a friendly wink, and told me to take the leftover chocolate from our s'mores when he dropped me off at my dorm because he could tell that I was sad. He never tried to fix anyone, only supported and included everyone constantly. He had so much joy and firmly believed it was best when shared. 

I'm writing this from New Orleans. I told a coworker's partner who lives here that I was headed to Flour Moon to have a bagel in memory of a friend and he immediately said "Oh, Jacob, the Howdy Bagel guy!" It's been over a year, but he is still consistently spoken about here. I'm grateful for the Carters for the constant example of genuinely loving individuals, for caring about me when I was a depressed and suicidal mess and not just giving spiritual platitudes or telling me the emotions would go away if I just loved God more. While it's so comforting to know that Jacob's story is still known, I hope justice and accountability will come.

Hannah and Jake right before an improv performance.