FOR JANE
I never even met him. I suppose that disqualifies me from eulogizing the man, except, right now, there’s this new pain deep in my heart.
On the streets of New York, some people of little means never get noticed. It’s a big city and there’s no time for little guys, especially if they’re Hispanic. Sometimes you don’t even know they’re Hispanic unless you get their name. You probably dont even care when you do hear it. The city is too big. Too busy. Too fast.
Men like Angelo Gonzales got noticed. Not usually for the best of reasons. But he knew that. People liked him for that kind of honesty. And his candor, to the police or anyone. Even when he was caught with drugs, hell, how could they bust him? New York’s finest would laugh. He couldn’t be pinched for dealing because he just gave his stuff away, didn’t make a dollar. A good cop always gets to know the hapless on their beat. The entire precinct knew him. On the street, everyone knew him, and he was able to go just about anywhere and do anything.
He was known for decades by a friend of mine and her daughter, whom he dated for a while. And when both of them had their lives going the wrong way because of drugs, it was he who gathered strength for her, because love can sometimes perform miracles. He said, “It’s time,” and she felt it, too. She told her mother it was time.
Sometimes people refuse all help, and die from drugs or alcohol. That’s a sad, sad way to go. I lost my son to an overdose, and in his short, sad life, that kind of end made it all the more unbearable for me. He was a good boy who had serious problems and always seemed at his best when helping someone else. It gave his sad heart a jolt of happiness, and his soul a reason to live one more day. I’m so grateful for my son. Not a day goes by without me missing him. Not a day goes by when I don’t regret that I couldn’t save him. Because in the end, nobody could. Call it a father’s burden when he has to live every day with that kind of loss and that kind of knowledge.
Angelo was a puzzle to me. But I’ll never forget that he saved the life of my dear sweet friend Jane, because he was strong enough, and loved her enough, not to want her to die that way.
He said, “Come on, we’re going. I’m gonna be with you all the way, so you don’t have to go it alone.”
He knew she was strong, tough, a true New Yorker, a Brooklynite. They both were. They could do this, he said. And they did it.
On the street, he was a shield for her. A human shield ever willing to tell someone to “fuck off” if he found her walking home alone. Anyone came near her, he’d gladly give his life protecting her. That’s a hero.
If you thought Governor Cuomo was being nothing but a cheerleader when he held his daily press conferences and said, “New York tough, New York strong”, then you were way off the mark. All over that state, but especially so in the city, everyone knows that credo. They live it every day.
That’s why I love New York. There’s not another place on this earth like it. During this awful pandemic, the people have done the impossible. They heeded their governor’s warnings, and people’s lives have been saved. New York is a model which proves that we can beat this thing, while in South Dakota, a governor thinks it’s all nonsense and now people are needlessly dying. Cuomo wonders why his state’s example has gone unnoticed by so many.
COVID-19 couldn’t take Angelo Gonzales out. For so long, he seemed like the kind of guy who could survive anything. Including a suicide attempt in the subway. Not many others could live through jumping in front of a train. He was at a particularly low point, but somehow he had a will to live that I can relate to. He recovered. He lived with several dire medical problems, and a transition to a new life by himself in a recovery and housing program. A true survivor.
Always, he kept in touch with Jane and her mother. He’d use his food card to bring them groceries and he was never to stop being a support for Jane.
And he did, in the end, right up to the end, live to help her. This morning, he got on his bicycle in Queens, headed to Brooklyn to make sure she got to her therapist okay.
Initial word has it that Angelo Gonzales had a heart attack, but however it came about, he swerved into the path of a car.
He’s gone.
And today the world is all the lesser for it. See, guys like Mr. Gonzales may look too below average for some people to even notice. They pass them on the street and never care who they are. What they do. What they’ve been through, and what knowledge and wisdom they have to offer. That’s tragic. It isn’t fair, but it’s how things are.
And Angelo Gonzales gave his life helping a friend. His life wasn’t a waste. All those who gtreatly love are great souls. They make a difference. Love, loyalty and honor made Angelo Gonzales a great man.
We all should hope to be like him. We all should aspire to that level of heroism. That level of humanity.
Truly, his place in Heaven will be above the pious who say lyrical things but never live to sacrifice anything of themselves.
“There is no greater love than this: that a man lay down his life for his friends.” –Jesus Christ
May God welcome him to paradise with arms wide, and
Memoirs of an American Asshole 