Published by admin on 29 Jul 2009
I wrote everyone this long dorky letter about how I needed money for my thesis film. He was the least likely candidate to respond, but when I got his e-mail asking me to call him, all the way in the northern reaches of Alaska I did.
He was my dad’s first cousin, and he asked me what the movie was about. I told him it was about girls and weddings and it was going to be something that helped me. He said that Alaska was devoid of all the things I was talking about but he would consider supporting my efforts. After all, I was family. I was living the dream.
He had long red hair that he kept in braids. He laid the Mexican tile in the upstairs of our house. He was quiet and funny and he lost part of his pointer finger in a fishing accident in Alaska. He told me it was so cold he didn’t even feel it, that another longshoreman told him he was bleeding and when he looked down he realized part of his finger was gone.
He died today. Cirrohis beyond repair. He was my cousin Pete. 59 years old. And I’m glad I got to know him as briefly as I did. He had the voice of an angel and when he and his brother sang and played the guitar I felt like I knew what talent was.
It’s hard to say I’m going to miss him, because I haven’t spoken to him in about 4 years. But I’m sorry one more of the good ones is gone.
R.I.P cousin Pete. You were one of the good ones.