I only just learned that Harold died the other day and took it very hard.
Harold was one of the greatest skateboarders around and when he started, there weren't many black kids doing it.

I met Harold when he attended Seward Park HS. He and I hit it off (I was one of the counselors there) but he was assigned to someone else. I asked the other counselor to let me see Harold since they didn't have a relationship, and he said "If you want to but he's never here." I managed to see quite a lot of Harold and learn a lot about him. Harold had a very hard life and I related to that, having had a very hard life myself. He was such a fantastic kid, and so friendly, he had the biggest personality. I later met his brother when his brother was at a GED program and his brother was a very talented artist. He drew great comics.

I remember once running into Harold when I was with my son, and being proud to introduce him, because Harold was the type of guy anyone would have been proud to know. After that, I ran into Harold infrequently and when ever I did, he always spent time chatting and telling me what was new in his life.

It's no wonder I found myself crying after I got to work, I just couldn't stop the tears and contain myself. And it was probably meant for me to meet that young man I met this morning on the train who told me Harold was dead. I just began talking to the guy because he had a skateboard and it reminded of Harold back in the day.

Actually, Harold had been on my mind a lot lately because I always ran into him around NY and I had been thinking, seeing him is way overdue. I spoke about him only a few weeks ago since I was wondering why I hadn't seen him. It must've been close to his death date since he died February 17th. I'm so sorry - it's a loss to our world and a reminder that we are all only visitors here of our own demise.