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."