I’m just getting up to speed after a Labor Day weekend fraught with thought, the need for new direction, and some infusion of happy. That’s not going to be the case for awhile. Add in the fact my RIM Blackberry is not sending all my emails to the device and thus my shock at this morning’s news, courtesy of Spin Sucks.
Trey Pennington committed suicide Sunday on his church premises.
For those of you who didn’t know of Trey, he was a leader, mentor, and consummate storyteller. I had the privilege of sitting next to him when we presented to Social Slam in April in Knoxville. He spent his own funds to buy colorful bandanas for the entire conference – some 400 people.
When he told stories, they were always about his kids – five of them and two grandchildren. He absolutely loved his family, and only he and those close to him knew the reasons for a serious and horrific separation from his wife.
I am devastated. Not because I knew Trey as a friend, but because I knew him as a social media leader and influencer. In April, he was on top of the world; within four months, he has left our world.
Social media fuels image, reputation, credibility, influence, friendships, mentorships, opportunity, relationships, and interactions. Behind ALL of this, there are people asking for help or crying out for attention or sending hints of a downward spiral yet to come.
What can we do? Is it a Twitter buddy’s responsibility to ask the poignant questions that cross the line from 140 into personal space? And, then what do we do? I’m at a loss here.
I have a network of close-knit tweeps. When they’re absent for many days, I notice. After many weeks, I wonder. After more than many weeks, I worry, and then I begin to ask questions and pick up the phone. That’s my nature – to nurture.
The only thing I want to tell the Pennington clan is this – your dad was the absolute epitome of professionalism. He always welcomed the little guys and the newbies into his circles, and he did it with warmth that was heartfelt. When he spoke and shared, it always included you – his children, and there were always stories about your escapades to bring laughter to an audience.
I can’t know how you’re feeling today or the questions you have that will go unanswered. I am in shock, in tears, and devastated with this news. I’m sorry. I’m so terribly sorry.
Really powerful message to Trey’s family, Jayme. I hope they see this.
When my sister died at 36, I made a point to collect the sentiments for her kids later. The now 7yo refers to my sister as “our old mommy.”
That makes me sad. Tomorrow we’re going to have a cheer up post!
Beautiful message, Jayme. It is devastating, isn’t it?
And now, all the questions…and, I didn’t even “know” the man to the extent others did. Children. Horrifying.
This is how I feel too. I can’t explain why I am so sad. He just seemed so genuine and I was not nearly close enough to him to have asked the right questions such as “how you doing, man?”
Well said, Jayme. This is truly heartbreaking. I know I was utterly shocked by the news. It just goes to show we have no idea what’s really going on in someone’s life. Hopefully, his death will remind us all to take an extra moment to check on our friends and a family members.
I agree, Laura…and the question is, “Why wasn’t the loving bond he had with his kids strong enough?” @maryhruth:disqus says it well — “the mind can so easily be a poison.”
You earn respect but you beg for love…
Soft words here Jayme, kind words, and full of human kindness. Billy
Thank you, Billy. There is an undercurrent of extreme sadness due to the lack of understanding.
Reading so many tributes to Trey. Befits this rainy morning. We know such a minuscule amount about the mind. Lately I’m thinking that not thinking is far preferable. The mind can so easily be a poison.
I thought of Freud. Then I thought of his grandson in the thick of the Murdoch Empire who also launched a PR firm in the UK with uncanny ability to network and create rapport, connections, and relationships. The mind is mysterious; your last sentence is very powerful. We see that in action daily, and when you put a gun in the hands of a poisoned mind, is the outcome ever happy?
Oh, Jayme. You said exactly what I’m feeling. Every time I read a post about Trey, my heart breaks again. For him, for his wife, for his children, for his friends and family, immediate and extended.
Some 15 years ago or so, I went through a particularly deep and dark depression. All I remember about that time is the sense that I would never emerge from the darkness. There was no way out except one, and not one soul knew what I was thinking. Fortunately, Scott has very strong discernment and intuition, and refused to take “wait” for an answer from doctors and counselors.
My prayer is that Trey’s shocking death changes us all, and that we will see the importance of being medical advocates for our friends and family when they are in a dark place. Don’t wait, hoping it’s a phase that will pass. They can’t see what we see when their minds are poisoned.
As a result of this news, I phoned a friend and didn’t know what to say but say it…I told him this news and mentioned he told me he is depressed, and I then said I didn’t know how I could help him but care. I don’t understand depression; it’s a hidden disease, and I feel so helpless.
I didn’t know there was a previous suicide attempt. I can only wonder who was there to help him and it obviously wasn’t enough. I think all the research dollars being put toward cancer should go instead to neuropsychological studies. The brain is the last bastion of research that continues to escape all.
I’ve read a few posts, Jay Baer linked some good ones. Like your heartfelt tribute, all of them make me think of something I’ve commented before: this is the real me but not the whole me. We don’t know what’s going on underneath and inside, not always. Friend, follower .. these terms feel hollow in light of this. Somehow I missed connecting with Mr. Pennington, not sure I crossed paths with him other than a stray tweet and yet this is still quite the wake up call. I share your condolences for his friends and family, would that these words could do more.
What’s occurred has given all of us pause, Davina. We walk a fine line in social media, and behind it are personal lives we really know nothing about. When someone creates a persona that a lie what shall we think? How shall we behave when truth comes out? Just questions I have no answers for.
Missed this last week, sorry. What is a lie? Is it an outright falsehood, a matter of ‘spin’ perspective, or an omission of the whole story? Again, questions I’m not sure how exactly to answer except agreeing that we don’t know everything about everyone, online or off. FWIW.