Rest In Peace, Henry

Life, Death.


I've never paid the phrase, "...touched the lives of many" any mind. Because we all do touch, and cross the many walks of life on a pretty consistent basis. And I never paid it any mind because it's become so routine. We treat every living soul the same, until we can put a name to a face. This is why it's so hard for us to connect with one another, it's such a chore for us to coexist peacefully, much less be genuinely nice to a complete stranger. 


I met Henry, once. We were both sneakerheads. I was camped out in front of 510 Skateboards, in Berkeley, where Henry attended school. I was pretty drunk, we were drinking to keep warm, and I ended up passing out. At three or four or so in the morning, I woke up to a guy walking over and trying to sling some shoes and supreme stuff to the people in line, this was Henry. We talked and talked and talked, and he seemed like a genuinely nice guy, pretty egotistic and somewhat snobby, but still nice. The guys next to us rolled up a blunt and they shared it, and we talked some more. Henry was so high and drunk, he just passed out with all his shit still laid out like he was selling it. Martin and I looked at him and his stuff and joked about just taking it and leaving. We were half-serious, I don't think either of us have it in ourselves to be that cruel ever again, in our lives. Morning came, and Henry woke up in a daze, gave everyone a pound and the deuces, and was off. 


I never saw Henry again after that, that is until I saw his face on a Facebook memorial page. He had folded under pressure, he had committed suicide. I'm genuinely sad. He was a good kid, and I know that personally, he didn't deserve that, he didn't deserve that darkness that eats your insides. He deserved a life full of smiles. 


Many people scold suicide, but I mourn the tragedy of someone ever having to feel that way. Many will say he died for nothing, but I'll tell them they are wrong. His death taught me the power we hold with every hello, every handshake, every dap, pound, and goodbye. 


RIP Henry Treadway (1991-2012)