Crazy John

There is this guy I've known pretty much my whole life, he lived just up the street from me. He was a lot older than me and a little out there. Some day she was better than others but no matter his state of mind he was the sweetest, kindest most gentle soul. Everyone that he ever met was his friend. He may have seen you for 5 mins in the grocery store line but he'd ask your name and part with a "God Bless You". If he saw you again, he'd remember your name and greet you and remind you where you met him. He had this personality that was bigger than life. Even though everyone he ever met was his friend he had a way of making you feel like you were his very best and only friend.

I can remember being about 8 years old, that would make him about 19 -- he had a really old nice car. All fixed up and bright yellow. You could see him coming from far away. He would drive slowly and stop by to say hi to all the kids playing outside, and if the ice cream man was around he would get out and buy all the kids ice cream. He'd push us on the swings and play guitar for us and sing us songs.

Somewhere along the line he made some bad choices, did some drugs and got really messed up. A few years went by and then he was around again. I was probably 10-12 when he was around again. He'd still come through the neighborhood but he didn't drive anymore, he rode his bike, but still carried his guitar and hung out to sing to everyone.

I've never known anyone like him. He was so simple, so kind. He really had a heart for everyone he ever met. If he encountered you and you didn't feel good he would pray for you. Tell you how much he loves you and wish you the best. A day or so later he would come and check on you again. Even if that meant he was to ride his bike a mile in the pouring rain, he had to check on his friend. He would lay his life down for a stranger. He proved that a few years ago when he took a bullet for someone he didn't even know.

It was his mission in life to touch everyone, to make whoever he came into contact with smile and to just live in the moment. He did that. Every single day. Everyone knew him as Crazy John, a nickname he embraced. He would introduce himself as Crazy John or Loco Juan if you happened to be a Mexican. He spoke a bit of every language, and had no shame in trying to speak it, if he made you smile or laugh with the wrong word then that made him even more happy.

John died on July 6th. I found out on August 7th. I don't know how he died. I don't know anything about any of it. I feel horrible that I wans't there to say goodbye to him at his funeral. I feel like a piece of all of us is gone. John as a truly unique person. I'm glad he was in my life. For being such a simple person, who was happy with very little, he taught me some of the biggest lessons in my life. God Speed Crazy John. To know you, was to love you. There will never be another like you.