Remembering Chad: A lifelong friend who should've had a longer life

A little more than six years ago, a friendship began in an Austin-area car dealership.

The friendship lasted a lifetime. It didn’t last long enough.

In January of 2019, my son, Quinn, turned 15. He would soon start driving. So, like many fathers of teenagers, I decided to give him a car I’d bought in 2011.

That meant I needed a new ride. I drove a pickup truck before Quinn was born. It was time for another one.

It just so happened a Chevy dealership in Hutto was posting a “deal of the week” ad on TexAgs’ premium forum.

I called and made an appointment to meet with salesman Chad Cox, a big man with a big smile and a bigger personality.

Chad was small-town friendly. Within minutes of meeting him, I knew much of his life story. He had a wife, two daughters and two dogs.

Chad Cox, Facebook

Chad, his wife and their two daughters.

He was an all-district offensive lineman on the Granger High School football state championship team of 1997. He walked on at Texas A&M but quickly realized his limitations. He didn’t graduate from A&M but was a faithful follower of TexAgs and a devout Aggie fan, a fact that I would get to know all too well.

He asked a variety of A&M football questions. Is Jimbo Fisher going to take A&M to a championship? How many games would the Aggies win in 2019? How’s recruiting going? What does Liucci say about this? What does Liucci say about that?

He jokingly lamented working with so many “damned Longhorns” and how they tormented each other.

Of course, he talked about trucks, too. I test-drove a couple. We discussed price. I told him I’d think about it and get back to him. He waved goodbye as the wife and I headed back to College Station.

He made what I thought was a good deal on a Silverado. Plus, he was just such a nice guy that I wanted to buy from him.

But I wanted to look around locally, too. A couple of days later, I was offered an even better deal on the black pickup I still drive today.

I phoned Chad to tell him I’d accepted a better deal. Car salesmen can be pushy, so I anticipated he’d try to change my mind.

It didn’t happen. He said he understood. Take the better deal. Good luck with the truck. Call him if I ever need anything.

I thought I’d never hear from him again.

Wrong.

He had my phone number. Text messages from him began appearing. They kept appearing regularly over the next four or five years.

Is this guy hurt? Will that guy play? Is the recruiting class really going to be ranked No. 1 in the country? Who’s going to be the quarterback? Is Jimbo going to get fired? How did we lose to Appy State? What does Liucci say about this? What does Liucci say about that?

Jamie Boswell, Facebook

Granger High School’s 1997 state champion football team.

Sometimes, the texts would come just hours after a win. Sometimes, they came just minutes after a loss.

I’d always answer. Sometimes, the responses just took longer than others.

Eventually, the frequency of his messages decreased. I didn’t think much about it. I’m busy. He’s busy.

Unfortunately, there was another reason. Through his posts on Facebook, I learned he’d been diagnosed with cancer and was undergoing treatment.

He acknowledged some days were extremely difficult. Other times, he seemed optimistic. He accepted messages of encouragement. He made jokes. He was philosophical. He urged his Facebook followers to “do something nice for somebody today.”

Last Sunday, I was locked in a fierce game of dominos with my wife when I got a text from someone I did not know.

A man named Todd, identifying himself as the cousin of Chad’s wife, messaged the news that Chad had unexpectedly passed away on Saturday morning.

Immediately, I went to Chad’s Facebook page to see dozens of posts expressing love for him.

I was stunned. My wife asked what was wrong. I showed her the message. She prayed for his wife and daughters.

I sat silently. My thoughts took me back to the day I met Chad. I thought about what a great fan of the Aggies he was. I thought about all those text messages, especially those that came during postgame press conferences.

I thought about how a car dealership ad on the TexAgs forum was the connection for a lifelong friend who should’ve had a longer life.