Monday, January 3, 2022
Summer of 2000… I was helping my Dad out at one of his construction sites and Aron drove by playing his punk music. This is when he still had his truck. Before he got his green Pontiac Firebird. We became really good friends and I got him a job working for my Dad framing houses. This was a very long time ago... When he used to dress in white golfing shorts, polo's, and Birkenstock sandals. I remember driving around with him in his Firebird listening to a variety of punk bands. I was lucky enough to know Aron when he was sober. Those are the memories of him that I cherish the most. The late night conversations about Paris and Madame Tussaud's Wax Museum, my trip abroad, his family, his grandparents, SOCAL, golfing, and music. I was reading through some of the letters that he sent me and I just want to let Aron's family know that he loved you. He loved you very much. He wanted to get away from the scene and start working again to make a better life and be happy. He fell so far down the rabbit hole. I'm sorry I left him behind and wasn't there to help him more. My condolences to Aron's family. Aron, You are thought of often. If love could have saved you; you would have lived forever. Fair Winds and Calm Seas. - Amber
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