I looked in the Archives and i couldnt find a RIP thread.
In this thread you pay tribute to people who have died.
I will start the ball rolling.
RIP Owen Hart and Davey Boy Smith
Truly sad stories these are.
RIP Jam Master Jay, John Lennon, Jimi Hendrix, and all other dead musicans except Kurt ‘dumb as a heart-shaped box of rocks’ Cobain.
Because you know, Jam Master was a pioneeeeer while Cobain was a druggy hack. Plus he was popular. EEevil, I tell you.
Stay on topic, and take your cheap shots to the BBQ Pit, please.
RIP Austin Yale. He died when I was 10.
RIP All the people at my high school who have died in the past couple years.
RIP Aaron Christiano.
He was one of the nicest guys ever to go to my high school, and he died in a one-car accident just over a week ago. He’ll definately be missed.
RIP Aaron Christiano.
He was one of the nicest guys ever to go to my high school, and he died in a one-car accident just over a week ago. Gosh he was young - 21 I think, but maybe 22, and he had such a bright musical future ahead of him. He’ll definately be missed.
RIP Victims of the Bali Bomings. This was so close to home, it affected me more than 9/11 did. (No disrespect to the 9/11 victims, it just didnt affect me as Bali did.)
RIP to 9/11 victims aswell.
RIP Kurt Cobain.
RIP Phil Hartman and Ron Taylor. Springfield isn’t the same without you.
RIP Layne Staley. “Down in a Hole” will never be quite the same again.
RIP Ronnie Van Zant. Fly on, Free Bird.
RIP Darryl Kile. Cards could have used you, DK.
RIP Jack Buck. Greatest announcer I ever heard.
RIP Graham Chapman.
We think alike Annie.
I was just thinking of Hartman today, and how talented he was. I second your RIP.
RIP my friend Courtney (thank you Firestone Tires) and my wonderful Father.
RIP Jerry.
Can I tell you all a story?
Billy was in my high school band class (a year or so behind me). He was the sweetest, most awkward kid I ever met. Big ol’ black glasses, orthopedic shoes, dirt poor, learning problems–all the sorts of things that get you picked on, even in a small school like mine. He played clarinet, and not well, and he couldn’t march at all.
My band director took me aside one day and said, “I want you to teach Billy to march.” Cold chills went down my spine–I’d seen his efforts and he was nearly hopeless. But I started working with him, and you know–he worked harder than any student in band. It took him forever to “get it”–just that simple right-left-right that comes so naturally after it clicks in your head. I watched him practice all by himself when everyone else was goofing off, and I watched him literally smacking himself on the forehead when he messed up. And I watched him very gradually improve, until he got it right. I was so proud of him. This was, to him, a very big deal.
He was still shy, still awkward, and some of the rotten bitchy girls still made fun of him, but by golly! he could march the whole show. It was an awesome thing to behold…and our band that year was the best it had ever been, so it was a great year for everyone.
Summer came, and at some point I heard there was a shooting near Billy’s house. My friends lived next door, and I knew there were guns in the house. I was terrified that their five yo had gotten hold of a gun and hurt herself. When my dad came home, I steeled myself for the bad news–and it wasn’t the news I expected.
It was Billy. He’d been cleaning his gun and accidently shot himself in the stomach. His cousin (my friend) was with him, and Billy died in his arms.
He was 15. I was the only non-relative from my school who attended his funeral. As far as I know, I’m the only one besides his mom who still puts flowers on his grave.
Rest in peace, Billy. Love ya.
Darryl Hauk. Kind of a geeky kid in high school. I don’t think anybody hated him, but not too many people could call him a friend either. Died in a car crash while we were in HS (with his mom). It was the first real mortality check I had… one of my own, my own age, like me dying. That never really occured to me before then. *You’re a teenager, right? You don’t die until you’re old. *
I still think about him from time to time, even though it was 13 years ago. I still visit his grave from time to time and talk to him. I think I’ll stop by the cemetry on my way back to work after lunch as a matter of fact.
RIP Darryl.
Grandpa and Grandma. I really can’t even type how good these people were. When Grandpa died, the Edmonton Journal had a full page story on his life… from helping a young lady with polio get her education after she was turned down from everyone else to giving a home to young lady for a couple years because her parents just couldn’t look after her. They both helped countless people get an education and make something of their lives, several after they’d given up. I can’t even say how they impacted me. Their a couple of people that when they passed, the world really suffered a loss. There just isn’t enough people like them to go around. God knows I’m not one.
RIP Grandpa and Grandma.
Rest in peace Paul.
My cousin age 22, was in a traffic accident on a stretch of road between Ottawa and Quebec 2 weeks ago while working.
We are a close family and genuinely enjoy each others company especially Pauls.
We were supposed to go away this Christmas together but now whether we do that or something else together, there will be a huge void.
I guess there always will be.
I can’t bring myself to say goodbye but I guess I hafta.
I love you Paul.
I can’t believe he’s gone.
Loved your story, bodypoet.
Mick was a friend of my husband’s when we got married. Christmas rolled around and the boys went shopping for a tree. Well, being newly married, we had enough money for the tree, but no decorations. Mick discovers this and rolls his eyes, saying, “God, you are a sad bunch”. The next day he shows up with lights and bulbs and tinsel and flings the boxes at us. But that’s the way he was. Smacked you in the head for your inefficiency and went out of his way to help you.
He’d gotten AIDS from a blood transfusion before they’d discovered the tainted blood supply and told noone for years. He didn’t want the sympathy or the stigma. When he finally told us, he was probably a year away from death. We stuck pretty close together and it was one of the most meaningful times of our lives. RIP Mick, you didn’t know how much you rocked.
R.I.P Uncle Ron.
You led an active life of service with the Foreign Office, in such offices and locations as the I.C.S (WW2 and during partition), South Africa (50s) and the West Indies.
Your intelligence, good heart and stories of your time in Northern India will be missed this and all Christmases.
My friend Kurt. He was an electrician on campus, who was killed in an explosion in my office last weekend. It was his day off, and he had just come in to help out. Just like in every bad cop movie, he had less than a year until retirement.
RIP: My baby sister’s best friend. Another car crash victim. Sixteen is far too young to die.
I should clarify; I was ten when Austin died. And so was he.