longer.blue

On Tuesday, I found out one of my closest friend's (Mike's) dad, Eddie passed away on Sunday July 26, 2026, which was also Mike's 40th birthday. Eddie was only 68 and this came out of nowhere. Their family moved from Brooklyn, NY, to Fords, NJ, where I grew up, in 1992. We met when I was 5 and we've been friends ever since. I even lived with Mike and his now wife, Rachel, from 2017-2021. Eddie had an unconventional career, being an MTA bus driver in NYC for 25 years, before becoming a deacon in the local Catholic church while bartending on the side. He used to set up block parties every 4th of July, hosted countless BBQs, and was always the life of the party. Even when he wasn't hosting BBQs, he'd show up with basically a fully-stocked cocktail bar. I spent so much time at their house as a kid that it was basically a second home, right around the corner. One of my favourite stories from being a kid was when we were about 9 or 10 years old and he brought a bunch of us to Staten Island for one of his favourite pizza places. He didn't tell our parents about these adventures, and they didn't care because we were all close enough to consider each other family. When Joey Ramone died, he offered to bring us to CBGB's in NYC so we could lay flowers at the makeshift shrine that was set up on the sidewalk. He was only a few blocks away from the World Trade Center on 9/11, and it took him a few days to get back home to NJ amidst all the chaos. He got us into Wallace and Gromit, Weird Al, and bought Mike a drumset in the summer of 2001. A few of our first bands started in his basement. Before cell phones were common, he set up a 1-800 (toll free) number for us to call if we ever needed a ride home, but didn't have enough change to use a payphone. Hilariously, it was only 1 digit off from Revlon's customer support line, which led to great fun for a bunch of bored teenagers whenever someone would call it. We'd say "please enjoy the music while your party is reached" and proceed to play a punk song for a minute or so, before asking "so what did you think of our song?" This is a rough one for me. When I lived with Mike in Philly, Eddie and Mike's mom would come by to visit every few months and we'd all stay up well past midnight just hanging out. He gave the eulogy when our close friend and housemate Anthony passed unexpectedly in 2018. Although none of us ever called him it, we all thought of him as "Uncle Eddie." Eddie was a legend, I just thought he had at least one more block party left in him. Goodnight Eddie, you were the best. You set a high bar for what a human could be. I'll always think of you when I pop open a bottle of Corona, attend a block party, or remember literally anything from my childhood. -K P.S., Let's Go Mets