life

A Name I'll Never Forget

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Mortal Man

A Name I'll Never Forget

By: Jason Doherty

It was the summer of 1996 and me and two of my buddies decided to head out to Brookville Lake to go to a party on another friend's houseboat. When we got there, we had to take a shuttle boat over to the houseboat. Once we got onboard and got situated, we drank a few beers and did a little swimming. We were having a good time. My friend that was hosting the party decided to invite one of his friends that lived out on the lake over and he came along with two of his friends.

They got on the boat and we all introduced ourselves and partied a little bit more. I don't know how much they had to drink before they got onboard the houseboat, but after two hours or so went by me and one of my buddies decided to go around to the back of the boat to hangout with them. We got to the back of the boat and saw one of the guys joking around with a girl and then asked her "are you going to get in?".  I didn't really hear her clear enough to make out what she said, but the guy kept joking around and then he pushed her in the lake. 

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We were all laughing but after about 30 seconds and she still hadn't came up.  My buddy and I looked at each other and I thought "that's weird". I thought that maybe she swam around to the front or to the other side of the boat. We walked around all sides of the boat and couldn't spot her anywhere. That's when I thought "oh-uh, this isn't good!" I was scared out of my mind and so I jumped in the lake to try to find her. I swam underneath the boat but didn't find her there. My buddy and I dove in close to where she was pushed in. We dove in so deep that we would lose our breath and have to come back up to grasp for air. We did this numerous times trying to find her but the lake was 27 feet deep and the water was so dark that we just couldn't see anything. We were exhausted, so we got back on the boat and heard one of our other friends on the CB radio saying "we have someone overboard!"

When the diver and police got there the diver wasn't suited up.  It took him about a minute or so to get prepped to dive in. He asked us where was the last place that we saw anything and we pointed in the direction of the last place that we saw bubbles come up from in the water. He dropped a line and dove in. The diver went in and found her immediately. He brought her up and laid her on the back of the boat. The policeman told me, my buddy and the guy that pushed her into the lake to go to one side of the boat and kept us separated from everyone else that was on the boat. I looked across the boat and saw that the girl was completely gray and that they were trying to revive her. The police told us to stop looking that way and to move to the front of the boat. 

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I always wonder what she would have became in life had she not died that night...

At the time, I was relieved that they found her but I didn't know what was going on. I didn't know if she was alive or not. They put us on the shuttle boat and as we went around the houseboat, I saw that they were putting her in a body bag. I knew right then that... my heart it just went straight to my gut. They couldn't revive her. She was dead.

She passed away and it was probably the worst nightmare I could have ever experienced. Her name was Jessica - I'll never forget her name. I always wonder what she would have became in life had she not died that night... maybe she would have became a doctor, a loving mother and wife. I always wonder about that.

We all had to go to the police station and give reports. We sat in the police station for eight to nine hours before we were even eligible to get bailed out. We had to got to court and that's when I learned that Jessica didn't know how to swim. That was really scary to me; learning that she didn't know how to swim but still went out drinking on a boat. I was held in jail for underage drinking. I called my mom and told her what happened and she said, "that's horrible." I told her my charges and she said, "you're 18 now, bail yourself out." It just so happened that another friend of ours had drove out to Brookville to party with us. He came as everything was going down, so he never made it to the houseboat. His dad bailed me out that night, otherwise I would have sat in jail until the arraignment. I was put on unmonitored probation.

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The guy that pushed Jessica in the lake was charged with involuntary manslaughter and spent some time in jail. He didn't know that she couldn't swim and he tried all that he could to help us find her in the lake that night. There was no parental supervision at all that night, so the family that owned the houseboat was sued. We were just a few kids out trying to have a good time. I was 18 years old when this happened and later I learned that Jessica was only 17. 

I turned to drugs pretty hard to help me cope and one day I woke up and said, "I can't do this anymore." I had to get my shit together. Jessica's death was a life lesson for me. I only knew Jessica for two hours before she was gone forever. It's crazy how things can be all good one minute and then... 

It's something that I'll never forget, even though I think about it all of the time. I've never talked about it. I'm glad that I have this opportunity, this outlet to share it. I definitely feel a little better now that I've talked about it.

I still talk to my buddy that dove into the lake with me but we never talk about what happened that night. Every time I've tried talking about it with him, he shuts me down and tells me that he can't do it. I have no idea how it weighs on him, how he's dealing with it or if he's dealing with it at all.

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I will always remember Jessica's name. Twenty years after that night it's still embedded in my brain. Even though I didn't push her in the lake I still feel guilty. I always wish I would have been able to find her - been able to save her. 

I still have nightmares about what happened that night. When they found her , I felt a sense of relief.  Then I saw her and saw how gray she was, it was almost like death was staring right at me. That right there is when I knew that if I don't swim "in life", I'm going to sink. I've been swimming every since. 

It took me almost 18 years to get back on a boat. Even though, I know how to swim I still wore a life jacket. To this day I still don't really like being out on boats a whole lot.

 
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Jason Doherty

A Name I'll Never Forget

Husband + Son + Drummer

facebook: Jason Doherty

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Memories Live...

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Mortal Man

Memories Live

By: Dan Tres Omi

While I did not have a father, I had a diverse group of elders who made sure I stayed on the path I still continue to travel. They were stern and wise. They gave no quarter. They loved hard and disciplined harder. They were fathers and husbands. They were community leaders and they led by example. They were not perfect and it is their imperfection that made me realize that I could be better than them.

Upon their transition, I never imagined I would utter those words. However, they told me several times that we stand on the shoulders of our ancestors. That we are our ancestors wildest dreams: to be better than what they were on every conceivable level. That idea sounds far fetched. To some, this could even be sacrilege. How could we be better than those before us?

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Even as a child, I always wanted to be the parent that my Uncle Fe was. I never heard him yell at anyone. If one of us got in trouble, he would plead with us to do right. That always fascinated me. While other adults would yell, cuss, threaten, or provide corporal punishment, Uncle Fe would urge us to do right. Without any abuse, he made us feel guilty for screwing up. He was very encouraging and always explained to me how amazing I was and of my potential to do much better. I never wanted to dissappoint him. He showered all of his children with love and affection. I rarely saw that and was also amazed by him. He lost his battle with cancer and everyone was devastated by it. His standard as a parent has never been forgotten and while I have failed so many times, I shall always endeavor to meet it.

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Speaking through the voices of the spirits speaking to me, I think back in the day, I absorbed everything like a sponge. Took a plunge into my past to share with my son.
— Talib Kweli/Reflection Eternal - Memories Live "from the Train of Thought album"

I met Brother George when I moved to Norfolk, Virginia after being discharged from the Navy. He owned a book store on 35th Street. With a group of men around my age, we started a book/Black History club there. Many of us were members and leaders of local community groups. Brother George and I quickly developed a long relationship as mentor/mentee. My eldest son affectionately called his store “The Black Man's Store,” and always asked when we would return to it. Brother George was my plug for bean pies and he would call me as soon as he got a new shipment in. He knew me before I was married and watched my family grow. As he became older and began cancer treatments due to his exposure to Agent Orange while serving in Vietnam, he asked me to take over the store. I was honored but immediately refused. I knew that I could never fill his shoes. I knew that the work he did for our community was one that many hands had to do. When he passed away, a void was left in my heart. Our entire community was rocked by his passing. As a community activist, he made it clear that he was always willing to serve in whatever capacity he could. As community worker, I use his example as a mission statement.

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I met Baba Varner through my very good friend, Seko. The thing about the entire Varner clan was that they took me and my wife in as family even before we had children. Baba Varner was a life long activist and minister. Over the years, I have met several of his mentees, students, and congregants who he has had a positive impact on. Baba Varner was amazing. He had the best stories of growing up, going to college, and fighting for Civil Rights. He was strong in every way. In every aspect, I learned so much from him. I recall him telling me that he was upset that he did not marry my wife and I. I vowed to let him “marry” us on our 10th anniversary. He passed away before this happened.

All these men set several standards for me. One of their lessons was in their transition. They made me ask the question: "how do we honor the actions of those who came before us and are no longer here?" How can we do that when they have done so much? I remember both Baba Varner and Brother George telling me: make your community a better place than it was before you inherited it. That is and will always be our marching orders. In this manner, we will honor them and their memories.

Ase! 

This is Part Three of Dan Tres Omi’s story. Click the links below to read the others.
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Dan Tres Omi

Memories Live...

Son, Husband, Father, Teacher, Afro Latino B-Boy, Author, Capoeirista, T-shirt Model, Pro-Feminist, Hip Hop Diplomat

 

Keep up with Danny on social media...

instagram: @brothereromi

twitter: @DaTresOmi

podcast: Where My Killa Tape At soundcloud.com/dantresomi

medium: @DanTresOmi

 

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A Dream

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Mortal Man

A Dream

by: Ty Greenwood

I dreamed a dream lately

That they really see me,

That they really feel me,

That they won’t forget me

That they won’t kill me

Can you even hear me?

I dreamed a dream lately

That I truly matter

My Black life matters

That they don’t hate me, the Black rooted in me

That they learn to like me and appreciate me

(Yeah)

I can’t see what they see, but I know it’s not me

I gotta get this degree and be all that I can be

See, I can’t look back and say “what if”, FUCK THAT

I can’t look back and be stiff, FUCK THAT

Their conspiracy, I am the victim of subjectivity

It’s clearer lately, they’ll try to break me

Then turn around and praise me

I hope they really see me and that they don’t forget me

Please don’t kill me

I dreamed this dream lately

(Yeah)

I dreamed this dream lately

Ty Greenwood

I wrote this with one of my best friends, Passion, during our final semester of undergrad. I just heard the beat and then I started thinking about what I wanted to say. “I dreamed this dream lately,” came to mind. At the time I was directing my own original play, “This Kind of HATE,” which centered on issues of police brutality, race, interracial relationships, politics and media. It seemed like almost every other day there was something on the news about a young Black person being killed or beaten by the police. Part of this is where my inspiration came from to write my verse on the track. I began to think about all the dreams those Black people must have had and how they would never get a chance to see them come true. How the world never really got to see who they were. I feel in ways this was a cry out of anger, pain and hope.

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Passion and I would often sit in the studio and reflect on the fact that we were two young Black kids from “the hood” that were about to graduate from college...something that statistically tells us that we wouldn’t. Talking about how far we had come never got old. All of the late nights and early mornings were worth that moment when our name was read and we walked across that stage to be handed our degree. Lord knows it wasn’t an easy road by any means. My first year, I wanted to transfer from Washington & Jefferson College (W&J), but two mentors of mine, Auntie Ketwana Schoos and Devan Carrington convinced me to stay and promised to have my back over the next three years. If it wasn’t for them I’m not sure I would’ve stayed. I can say I’m glad I did. My four years at W&J were definitely some of the best years of my life. I accomplished more than I could have ever imagined I would. Knowing I left a mark, a legacy and an impact on the campus reassured me that I had something to give to the world.

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This is part two of Ty’s three part story. Click the link below to read the others.
 
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Ty Greenwood

I Danced With Death

Writer, Poet, Actor, Director, Teacher, Student… MULTIFACETED

twitter: @ty_greenwood

instagram: greenwood26

facebook: Ty Greenwood

email: greenwoodet26@gmail.com

"please be sure to comment below to continue the conversation, offer words of encouragement or to share your story."

I Danced With Death

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Mortal Man

I Danced With Death

by: Ty Greenwood

Ty’s story will be shared in three parts with I Danced With Death being the first.

I Danced with Death:

 I Danced with Death

I Danced with Death for four days and nights

But we went our separate ways

See, I had thangs to do

And Death didn’t understand that it wasn’t my time yet

What I thought was only four hours, turned into four days

And baby that was too long

There were people counting on me

I had to get back

Death and I got into a fight

Needless to say

I came out alive

But something tells me

Death and I haven’t had our last dance

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I guess it is not everyday that a healthy, fit, 21-year-old college athlete is told, “Ty, it appears that you have stage-4 critical chronic kidney disease, and your kidneys are functioning at about 10 percent. You will need a kidney transplant to save your life.”

I mean, here I was weeks away from finishing my sophomore year at Washington & Jefferson College. I had just finished performing the lead role in our spring play, Eye of God, and celebrated my 21st birthday. Two weeks later I suffered a seizure caused by extremely high blood pressure and was taken by helicopter to UPMC Presbyterian Hospital, where I would spend four days unconscious in the ICU on a ventilator before waking up to my family surrounding the bed. For 10 days, I stayed in the hospital while many tests were performed to analyze my kidney function. However, through everything, I remained positive and determined to live my life… and I did.

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After being released from the hospital, I picked up where I left off with my life. I had applied to a program called Breakthrough Teaching in San Francisco, California to teach 7th, 8th and 9th grade English and writing. I was chosen as one of the 23 Teaching Fellows to attend the program. It was always one of my dreams to visit California, and this was going to be the perfect opportunity. As if that was not exciting enough, an even bigger dream of mine had always been to travel to London to study theatre arts. During my sophomore year, I applied to study abroad at St. Mary’s University in Twickenham, England, and I was accepted! I was going to London for a whole semester! Yes, I had just been diagnosed with stage-4 kidney disease, and yes, my kidney function was at 10 percent and falling, but I was not worried. I told my doctors, “I’m going to live my life and if I die, I’m going to die LIVING.”

My summer was gearing up to be very busy, as I also had an eight-week apprenticeship at KDKA (CBS) TV-News studios in Pittsburgh to complete. I worked hard for each of my opportunities, and I had come too far not to take advantage. Four days after finishing at the news station, it was off to London for my semester abroad. London was life changing! I went to see over ten theatre productions and I loved every second of my classes. One class I took was screenwriting and it was during this class that my love for writing and wanting to create stories really began to blossom. I wrote a ten-minute short film script that was made and entered into the British Film Festival. I was able to learn about new ways to approach writing, the process of pitching story ideas, constructing a creative pack and editing my work.

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Two weeks before I was supposed to return home from London that I began became very sick. I was not able to keep food down, and I had gained weight due to water retention. Sadly, I left London early. I returned home a few days before Christmas, and soon after, checked in with my kidney doctor to have blood work done. I was extremely tired over the course of the next week through Christmas. I was so exhausted; I ignored a number of calls, including my doctor’s office trying to get ahold of me to tell me that my hemoglobin (blood count) was very low. I had to go to the hospital to receive a blood transfusion immediately. Over the next eight days, I was told that my levels were so bad that I was breaking records—and not in a good way. I had to begin dialysis immediately to clean out the toxins in my body. The beginning of treatment was rough to say the least.

About a week later, my older brother Lance came into my room and told me that he found out he was a blood match and could give me one of his kidneys. The amazing part about this is that I am adopted, and my blood type is O-positive, which means that I could only accept a kidney from someone who is O-positive. Lance and I are not blood brothers, but as far as the transplant was concerned, we were. I was filled with an abundance of emotions and relief. The surgery was confirmed to take place on Thursday, February 18, 2016. It was a success and after two weeks (a normal recovery time is six weeks), I returned to college and attended classes and rehearsals for the upcoming spring play in April.

 
This is the first essay in a three part series by Ty. Please click the links below to read the others:
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Ty Greenwood

I Danced With Death

Writer, Poet, Actor, Director, Teacher, Student… MULTIFACETED

twitter: @ty_greenwood

instagram: greenwood26

facebook: Ty Greenwood

email: greenwoodet26@gmail.com

"please be sure to comment below to continue the conversation, offer words of encouragement or to share your story."

Connect For

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Mortal Man

CONNECT FOR

By: Alvin L. Dillapree Sr.

Detroit is a city where you learn quickly how to deal with loss. Whether it’s your bike or a loved one, the emotions attached with loss are unpredictable. The acceptance or denial of these emotions come with reasoning and understanding. The flip side is that it can be conflicted by the mystery of the unknown.   

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The initial person’s death I consciously understood was a Barber. This is the man who administered my first haircut. I can still feel his voice like grip on my cranium as he orchestrated his symphony of craftsmanship. I think I was 6 years old when I was told he had been shot while in the barbershop during an attempted robbery. This changed how I viewed longevity. I no longer thought of grownups as immortal. Although I didn’t have a personal relationship with him, his death would prove to be profound in my life. His grip remained with me every time I received a haircut for many years. This was my first connection with reality.   

No one truly leaves you when they transition. It simply marks the beginning of a new journey you embark on with your team that you share a special connection with.  

I attended my first funeral at the age of 8. It was for a 10-year-old boy named LaDon. Our families were close. LaDon was struck by a drunk driver while at an ice-cream truck. Every time I see the (stop traffic sign) on an ice cream truck I think of him. I wondered where LaDon was after he departed this life form? Why was a young boy taken away from this world so soon? While riding in the funeral procession to the cemetery for LaDon, the route went directly pass my mother’s place of employment. Ironically she was off work waiting at the bus stop. My cousin and I were the only two people that saw my mom that day. My mother worked to provide for an only child all the luxuries of the wealthy on an economy based salary. She did well. I knew of no other lifestyle as a child. I seemed to be having the perfect life despite the outside world's perception. August 30th 1980, my connection with that exterior world would collide with the interior.

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Starting the 3rd grade can be intimidating. Add the fact that you come from a single parent home, you have very few positive male figures in your life and you live in an urban city during one of the most traumatic times involving drugs and violence. By the way, the only person you depend on - day in and day out, has just been killed at a bus stop waiting to go to her place of employment. I would delay the start of school for about a week. Crazy as it may sound, my biggest worry was that I wouldn’t be able to take the brunt of a mother jokes from other students. Once I got back into school I noticed some people who thought I needed sympathy at this time. I didn’t like this treatment. My mother was gone and the pain of that couldn’t be forgotten soon. But I didn’t want pity. I did, however, understand that now I was more special than before, my story had just changed a little, that’s all. The "knowing" that things always work out for me assisted with the transition to life without my physical mom. I now knew that she was present in a different form. I could feel her connection with me when things became challenging in my life.

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My mourning period would be brief. Less than a year later the man I knew "or didn’t know as my father," passed away. No funeral, obituary or grieving process for me in reference to my dad.  I was informed of the news one day after school and had to immediately move on with life. To my knowledge he had already been buried by the time I was informed. Despite our relationship being what it was - I did feel sad due to the lack of connection with my dad. My psyche changed after my father passed. I now somehow felt stronger mentally. I approached life with the purpose of molding my chaotic clay into a brilliant piece of artwork. The unknown memories of time spent with my dad were now the jet fuel that would propel me to ensuring my own families future happiness. Supreme inner strength and family members support helped me graduate Denby High School in 1990. I proudly served my country in the United States Navy for nearly a decade. 

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In 2008 great events took place in the world. We saw the country do something I never thought was possible; elect a black man into it's highest office. My written article was featured in the popular barber magazine - (Against the Grain) and my son; Alvin Jr.  officially became a member of planet earth. I can honestly say that the past nine years watching him grow have been phenomenal. I now know how the dots connect to some degree. I had to go through all the lessons of pain and loss along the way to arrive to this destination of great appreciation and fulfillment of life. I understand that death is a necessary tool that teaches "it’s not the ending that connects you, it’s the journey while happy that does." No one truly leaves you when they transition. It simply marks the beginning of a new journey you embark on with your team that you share a special connection with.  

 
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Alvin L. Dillapree Sr.

Connect For

Born February 17th 1972 in Detroit Michigan to Margie Dean Dillapree. Alvin Lee Dillapree Sr. has compiled a list of passions that include writing, photography and videography. A graduate of Denby High in Detroit. He went on to serve in the Navy and establish the foundation for the man he would become. Thought provoking and direct are a couple of adjectives that describe Al. Humbled to be the senior writer, managing editor for Against the Grain Magazine, he also had the honor to produce, write and host multiple online radio shows (Barber Sports Talk), (Politics Beauty), (Dream League Show). He was a judge at the 2012 Bigen Barber Competition in Detroit. He was the host of the Barbers Roundtable in Atlanta Ga. He introduced the Barber educational team: (D Elite). He studied Media Arts at Macomb College. The most rewarding of all activities is being with his family.

instagram: @aldillapreesr

facebook: Al Dillapree Sr.