Dennis was a guy who lived around my area of Allerton. I remember my friends and I first met him and interacted with him when we were hanging out on a Friday afternoon. Jamal, Chris, and Dontrell were playing catch in the street, using Jamal’s football. I remember Jamal throwing the ball to me, and I messed up at the last minute, the ball clocking me in the face.

A tall, skinny, white dude was walking while this was happening.

Then I heard laughter in the background when Dennis picked up the ball. Dennis was laughing all over me and laughing at the reactions of my friends. The laughter faded before he walked away, threw the ball to me. Letting out a cigarette on the way. The interaction faded from our minds, and we went back to playing.

Wednesday night, my pops and I took out the garbage and sorted everything. My pops tied up the bags while I carried them to the bin. Then I saw Dennis walking, and he saw us. He greeted us before telling my pops, “You are son made my day.”

He told my pops the day he saw us playing football, he was having a bad day and left his house to cool down.

Seeing a football hitting my face made his day, I guess. I finished carrying the rest of the bags, and my pops were still chopping it up with Dennis before he left again.

Most of the people in my neighborhood knew Dennis, mainly because his brother Raphael hosted block parties in my area every Saturday during the summer. I only knew him during our interactions.

However, he was a remarkable man. All he did was take his time to talk to the people who lived in the area. He had an interaction with my pops, and they became calm. Both talked for a while about straight random topics, and I remember both talking about Mike Tyson, and my pops and him were talking about the boxer for an extended period.

The point was that he was excellent. Those types of people would instantly click with others. Dennis was a big baseball fan; the only thing I knew about him was that he brought up my pops and Yankees tickets and asked if we wanted them, but neither of us ever watched baseball. My father and I were uninterested, but it was a nice gesture.

I never got into confrontations or was involved in any situations. He was a regular person who made connections with others. However, his connection with the wrong side of town was a different story. The man was almost high every day whenever I would see him around the area after a while. Either he was high while chilling at the store or drunk in the middle of the day.

It was not my problem to say, but after a while bumping into Dennis or him coming across others around the block talking to people, I am sure others noticed he was using substances.
I never knew why he used them at the time. I would usually visit a neighbor, Ms. Everlyn, who, funnily enough, lived across the street from me. She knew everybody, including Dennis, so it was no surprise they had their fair share of conversations.

However, I remember visiting there, and I would talk to Everlyn’s brother about basketball. That was our usual topic whenever we bumped into each other—having many takes on basketball opinions. I saw Dennis walking like he usually did, saw us two, and started talking with us about it. It was an incredible moment, but I started to notice how he was carrying himself, and after a while, I said to myself, “Yeah, he is high.”

Who knew on what. I would believe anything to be true.

Whatever person that is going through something, there are coping tactics. I never judge anybody who goes through anything because that is something I should not judge about. However, in Dennis’s case, it was short and sad. He had an addiction.

However, he masked his demons by smiling all day for the people to see. The more people saw him on the block, the more he appreciated. When his brother Raphael hosted another block party like he usually did, Dennis put money in for the kids to have fun that live on the block.

A couple of months later while I was in high school, I remember I got home and saw my pops chilling in front of the house, and we talked in the front. We were talking and hanging out in front of each other. Then my pops said, “You heard about Dennis?”

With a curious tone, I said, “What happened?”

Just like that, Dennis died. He popped pills and died in the bathroom. He went to the bathroom, accidentally slipped, and hit his head on the side of the tub.

Hearing that was honestly wild. Of course, I was not devastated or anything. I never knew him like that. However, at the same time, it was like, “damn” It feels weird in general to have interactions with people and then find out they are dead.

Others on the block eventually found out but were not stressing over it. Of course, it affected his brother the most. Dennis was a remarkable and respected person. However, he was a struggling addict.

The scenario felt weird. I do wish he respected himself enough to get the help he needed. That is what I have thought of when putting things together. However, the moment felt weird. Like you never know when it is your time. Moreover, when it is, you never know when it will happen.

Help is available