Otto Warmbier: The tragedy is personal here

Wrapped around each tree trunk are two ribbons. One blue. One white.

They flutter in the breeze on Springfield Pike as couples walk, hand-in-hand, down the sidewalk. Boys play basketball at the middle school. People mow yards and ride bikes and walk dogs.

Life in Wyoming, Ohio, seems normal.

But then, there’s a two-man camera crew gathering footage for a national broadcast. There’s a sign on a front porch: “Prayers for Otto & Family.” And on Thursday, there will be a funeral.

Otto Warmbier, 22, died Monday, just a few days after he returned home from North Korea in a coma. Nationally and worldwide, his death means a lot of things to a lot of people. But in Wyoming, it’s not about political retaliation or a ban on travel or a show of military force.

In Wyoming, it’s about the loss of a son. A brother. A neighbor. A friend.

It’s about remembering the boy who was kind, spontaneous and eccentric. Who had a great, if sometimes off-color, sense of humor. Who loved thrift stores and rap music. Who loved people.

“He just lived life with such a zest and a passion that I haven’t really ever experienced in somebody before,” said Chris Colloton, 22, who first met Otto at Terry’s Montessori preschool in Wyoming and graduated with him from Wyoming High School in 2013. “He was the best guy I knew. I still know him – I’m just going to miss him so much.”

Wyoming is an affluent community of about 8,400, just a few miles north of Cincinnati. The poverty rate is 2.2 percent. The schools are among the best in the state.

It’s the kind of place where the streets are wide and lined with trees and the neighbors know each other and each other’s business.

It’s a proud, tight-knit community that values privacy and, for better or worse, is wary of outside influence. The funeral, though open to the public, is closed to reporters.

Those who knew Otto well are also hesitant to speak with reporters. They don’t want to make him something he’s not. After all, he doesn’t belong to the world. He belongs to Wyoming.

But then, some do speak. Because they know Otto. They love Otto. And they want the world to know more than just his name.

Otto was the glue that held together their group of friends after graduation, Colloton said. He was always good for a Sunday afternoon call, just to check in. Whenever they were both back in Wyoming – even if just for a few hours – Otto would always make sure they met up.

In summer 2015, they were both home for the same weekend. Otto called Colloton early that Saturday and said, “We’re going thrifting!”

Otto loved thrift stores, and he had a particular affinity for “interesting clothing and odd knick-knacks," Colloton said. Otto called it “memorabilia investing.” Most others would have called it junk.

That morning, Colloton assumed they were going somewhere local. He was wrong. They drove about an hour away to a “weird, weird, place” Otto had found online.

“It was great,” Colloton said. “It was just me and him, so we were able to catch up on that hour car ride. For me, I just loved being with him and hanging out with him.”

More:Wyoming High School classmate on Otto Warmbier: 'Everyone's friend'

By now, the devastating timeline of events that led to Otto's death is well known. In late 2015, he traveled to North Korea with Young Pioneer Tours. He was arrested on Jan. 2, 2016, the final day of his five-day tour, and accused of trying to steal a political banner from a staff-only section of his hotel.

He was tried, convicted and sentenced to 15 years of hard labor.

Then, he disappeared.

For 15 months, his family heard nothing. In mid-June, Otto, who reportedly had been in a coma for a year, came home.

“We’re thrilled that our son is on American soil,” his dad, Fred Warmbier, told reporters at a press conference this past week. “Otto, I love you and I’m so crazy about you. I’m so glad you’re home.”

More:Otto Warmbier lands in Cincinnati

On Christmas Eve 2015, just a few days before Otto’s trip, Colloton saw his friend for the last time. A group of them got together, just for an hour or so in the afternoon, because they all had holiday plans that evening.

“We spent the hour together, catching up as fast as we could,” Colloton said. “We were anxious and excited for him. And we dropped him off and gave him a big hug and told him we love him and couldn’t wait to hear about when he got back.”

Colloton never gave up hope his friend would come home safe. He imagined Otto would joke about it. He’d relish telling all the details of what happened in North Korea. 

Colloton still can't believe this is real.

“You don’t ever get over seeing Otto Warmbier’s name on MSNBC,” Colloton said.

On June 13, the day Otto landed at Cincinnati's Lunken Airport, Colloton was torn. He was overjoyed his friend was home. He was heartbroken by his condition. It was both the best and worst day of his life.

But to know Otto was to love Otto. And that’s what matters.

“It’s something that each one of us can learn from him,” Colloton said. “If people could just know the extraordinary character he had, that’s really all that matters.”

More:Otto Warmbier celebrated 'good old days' in high school graduation speech

For this, there is no playbook. No one knows what to do or say.

Luckily, Otto himself had some ideas.

In 2013, he gave a speech at his high school graduation. He wore Wyoming High’s customary white tuxedo, with a black bow tie and a red rose pinned to his lapel. He quoted the sitcom “The Office.” He spoke about beginnings and endings.

“Many of us will move far away and not come back for a long time,” he said.

But it’s OK, he told his classmates.

Just because something ends doesn’t take away from what it was.

“No matter where we go or what we do, though, we will always have this group here,” he said. “Even when Wyoming’s class of 2013 is a thing of the past, we will have the support of all of these people around us. We’ll have the knowledge we gained as a group. And we’ll have the reruns – the memories we created – to be played over and over again.”

After Thursday, after the funeral, Otto will go back to being an international symbol. Politicians will argue about what could and should have been done, and what should be done now. Internet well-wishers will share his story and send prayers. Internet trolls will harp on how he shouldn’t have been in North Korea in the first place.

But for now, for this moment, Otto belongs to Wyoming.

This tragedy is personal.

This tragedy is theirs.