John Vazquez (1978-2005)

It's a little too late for this entry. I've run out of words.

The particulars are simple: John Vazquez, who was one of my best friends in college, died this past Saturday, 3/26, from a cerebral hemmorage caused by a post-pnemonia infection. He was buried in his hometown of Vineland, NJ on Wednesday. Myself and Nicole Horn were the only Susquehannites who were able to make it. That certainly is a function of not knowing how to get in touch with the people who loved John rather than there being a lack of them. The viewing Tuesday night was, according to the pastor of the church, attended by a solid stream of people lined up out the door of the church for its entire two hour duration. The service on Wednesday was standing-room only inside the modest-sized house of worship. And John didn't look like John. They never do. But it was easy to tell why I knew John was gone. The smile on his face was gone.

That's the way I will always remember him. I can remember times when John wasn't laughing, when he was so stressed by some now-seeming-trifle at SU. But those moments were few and far between, and they never lasted long. He always, always laughed when you were trying to cheer him up, and often would crack the joke that brought some levity back to the situation. He was always, always there to listen when you needed him (and I needed him back in the day). He was fair, he always told you the truth, not what you wanted to hear. He was smart, and so full of life. He seemed to have a boundless energy for life.

There are a number of things I've always associated with John, and now they've been smelted together forever. I remember how John would always compulsively tape the day's syndicated Seinfeld episode, and how the episode "The Contest" was his White Whale; John and I were so incredibly buzzed about the ABC Beatles special, so that every time I heard "Day in a Life" (the song ABC used in the promos for the show), I'd think of us watching the special; a bunch of us at college felt a certain glee in using our James Brown voice and say ridiculous shit (e.g., "Popcorn!")...

The list goes on and on.

It just seems hopelessly unfair that of all the ugly... the profoundly, spiritually ugly people in the world, one of the most beautiful had to be taken.

So, John Vazquez joins my list of Friends Buried. R.I.P., John, Travis, Jim and Jamie.