The death of any family member can be devastating for anyone. It was on this Friday May 23 2003 that my brother Angelo Garcia died. He died of Cancer. The Big C they call it. He was a good man even though he had his struggling times also he overcame his problems and became successful in whatever he did.  He was blunt when he talked, but was able to back it up. I remember when he and his wife Cynthia  took a foster child and gave him the vacation of a lifetime. He never had kids. but did volunteered in a boys home where he would spend time with them and talk about life. I think the most important life he saved was mine. I will tell you a story.
Back in the eighties when I was in my 20s I was struggling with alcohol and drugs, I would get paid from my Job and be lost for several days. My wife and family would be worried about me because I wouldn’t show up at home or call. So most of the time they thought I was dead. I was really lost and I can say that I was a slave to the world of addiction or may a I say the American Social order.The one that was built for guys like me. On one of my disappearances I was sitting on the street corner of Jerome avenue in the Bronx wondering what was wrong with my life. My brother Angelo spotted me and grabbed me and said “get in the car”. He asked  me “why was I slowly killing myself.” I said “because I was worthless.” society told me that being Puerto Rican or a spic as they called us said we were outcast, car thieves, welfare recipients, just worthless people.I believed that.  I believed that I was suppose to be a nobody. when I was in the first Grade at this all white school in the Bronx i was told that by my teacher Sr Marilyn. Yes i parochial school. Me and my brother talked and he told me to try going to Rehab so i did. He took me in January of 1987 and I herd the message, but I wouldn’t get sober till June 3 1991. But the message was planted in my mind in 1987. Before my brother died I had 12 years of sobriety and I’m reaching 23 years of sobriety  in several more weeks. Today I blame myself for being so ignorant but than again being born in 1961 brought me  into a world of hate, violence, assassinations, and the big one of them all RACISM. those were my school subjects for many years growing up In the Bronx. New York. But thanks to the help Of the Powers of the Universe along with my brother I’m saved and alive.. I believe his spirit is watching me write  this ‘ Angelo I love you and thank you for your help.. and  all the other people I helped in sobriety and my kids who are all doing great to thank you.RIP brother…;

By Tyrone Garcia Author of the book  ” Soap That Doesn’t clean” and coming  soon  ” The Boss and the Fighting Tier”