In Remembrance - Sonic Life
 

Hey everyone.

With the events of the past week still fresh in my mind, I thought it nice to start a thread where we can share our losses.

On this day in 1991, my father passed away after a years-long battle with cancer as a complication of AIDS. He became infected with HIV during his work at an AIDS hospice in 1985-87, back when AIDS victims were severe pariahs and people refused to even be in the same room with them. My father was an Episcopal priest, (the American version of the Anglican Church of England) and a life-long political advocate for the oppressed.

I was 17 when my father died. My brother was 15. That is a rough age to lose your role model.

here is a picture of my dad when he was a senior in High School, around the same age I was when he died.


People dressed nicer for school pictures back then I guess.
My mom and dad knew each other since elementary school. They came from different sides of the tracks. My mom's dad was at one point Attorney General of Puerto Rico.
My dad came from an abusive home, and fought his whole life to be a better person so that he did not continue the abuse with me and my brother.

He graduated High School, and went to University, where he proceeded to party and be voted the President of his fraternity, and get booted out after 2 semesters with a .45 GPA.
He enlisted in the Air Force right away, mostly to get away from his abusive father. He served in Vietnam for 3-4 years as a crew chief on a refueling plane, flying missions over Nam, from Thailand to Japan.
In the middle of his service he asked for my mom's hand in marriage. they were married a year before his service ended.
When he finished with the Air Force (and he always told me the military is NO PLACE for an intelligent hispanic person!) he used the GI Bill to the fullest.

he went back to school, graduated summa cum laude with a double major of Political Science and Psychology. He went to graduate school in Philadelphia for his Masters(where I was conceived in an apartment above the original Soul Train studios), and he earned his Doctorate of Theology
in the seminary at Washington DC.

My bro and I were born in Puerto Rico.

My dad then moved to Houston TX for an opportunity to be a chaplain at St Luke's Hospital. We joined him a year later. From that he was assigned to start 4 different Spanish language services at four different churches around the Houston area. For 2 years, he did services at 4 different churches every sunday, and was the first Spanish speaking priest in the Diocese of Texas.

He taught me to be a man, to value hard work (which is hard because I am exceedingly lazy), to love reading, to love music, to treat people right. he taught me so much. He saw me and my bro watching MTV and catching an ad for a David Lee Roth concert at the Summit in Houston. he bought three tickets and took us. I was 12. He put up with the immense volume,and clouds of weed smoke to help my bro and I rock.

while my mom hated me listening to such crazy bands, he never said a word.

I used to record videos from MTV (120 minutes, headbangers ball, Yo MTV raps) on VHS and watch these videos over and over.
One day he sate down with me just as Teenage Riot was starting. (he was already sick at this time). He sat through the whole video, saying nothing. When it finished I wondered what he would say. He said, "It's just a lot of noise." and I said "yes, yes it is."

THANK YOU for sharing such a personal story......best idea EVER for a thread!

What a way to remember and honor a loved one.

Wow, Rob. I don't really have words...

Just make sure you value your time with your wife and son Flotz, the good and the bad. Life has a way of ENDING when one least expects it.

I was closer to my grandmother than anyone in my immediate family, and lost her to cancer in '92. She smoked Lucky Strikes all of her life, so my story lacks the poignant nobility of your's. But...yeah...I hear ya, homes.

They're toasted...

God, I'm glad I quit smoking. It's been almost 4 years.

i read this earlier this morning. i wanted to post something in reply but i was sort of speechless.

still got nothing.

thanks rob.

What a wonderful way to remember your Dad, Rob.

yeah my heart ached when i read it and didnt know what to say either.
that was a wonderful post Rob. may you be well and remember your father.

i still have issues with my grandmother's passing.
it was the loss of pure love.
i wrote a story back then, the only thing i have ever written, but i still dont feel comfortable to read it again or share it.
my mourning her, got a pause 4 months later, when my best friend's sister got sick. that is the other loss that traumatized us all.
i ve been near diseases and death since my 14. somehow it has spared my close family so far - i mean my parents. but to be honest, i dont handle that well anymore people getting sick and die. i mean, it doesnt show, but inside i dont handle it well.

My grandfather, Allen Monk.

 

And John H. Ellis II. He used to post here ages ago under "jheii". Few of you would remember him.

 

very nice and interesting, Rob. Interesting life story.

I've been fortunate to not have dealt with much loss so far. I lost a cousin back in like '97/'98. That night of will always be burned in my memory.....waking up in the middle of the night to the loudest cries I've ever heard to this day...My cousin(half of that family actually) was partially raised by my mother...and therefor my mom was really close to the 4 oldest. Granted I was very young, I still remember Junior and will never forget playing Golden Axe on Sega....watching soccer...and simply hanging out with him while over his house.




I remember one day he and my brother were hanging out....doin' the usual. My dad later arrives with a brand new daisy pellet rifle for my brother...so naturally my brother and Junior start messing with it....and eventually they go outside to mess with the thing. However the fucking geniuses decided to shoot birds under a pine tree across the street from my house. Now I'm with them watching from across the street....hell it looks fun! But then a cop car drives by....(quick side note, this was in the 90's and there was this thing where young 'thuggish/gangsta'-looking teens would wear long leather jackets with a hoodie underneath...so two hispanics wearing 'gangsta-lookin' shit isn't really gonna ride in a white neighborhood). So yeah..this cop car drives by and my brother quickly put the rifle under his long coat. Yeah....these cops immediately get out of the car and draw their weapons. Heh...they were really scared(they were like 15/16 or something). I just remember being completely stunned when the cops asked me where I lived. My brother had to answer for me and once I was told to go inside, I ran and immdiately started crying because I was so scared(I was 6/7). Now...I was taught to not be a fucking rat....so as this little kid I tried to NOT be a rat. Anyways....I'm fucking balling inside and my family comes to me and ask whats wrong. I say nothing, and they're puzzled until they open the door behind me and see my brother and Junior being placed in the cop car. After that was settled...I excitedly showed him my new Superman 'trading' cards'.



I wish I had more memories of him....