When I first moved to Ossining in 4th grade, I carried the same worries most “new kids” do. Would I make friends? Hate where I’m living? How many fights am I going to get into after telling people where I’m from?

Thankfully, most of those fears dissipated quickly—thanks in large part to four people: Gregory Jackson (Rest Easy❤️🕊️), Shea Holebrook, Blake Hoyt and the man in the video above, Irrick “Slug” Maynes.

I vividly remember one of my first days at Claremont Elementary, scanning the recess yard for someone to connect with. I needed an “in.” Then I spotted Slug, with his patented soft-spoken and at the time mightily squeaky voice, sitting courtside in the newly released LeBron IVs. That was it.

A single compliment on a then stranger’s sneakers, in 2006, blossomed into a nearly 20-year friendship filled with everything—loss, laughs, fights, near-death moments, and everything else teenage boys get into as they come into their own.

There are very few things bond people like collective grief. And God knows we’ve had our share of it. But we’ve remained crutches, literally at times, for each other throughout. When we lost G, we cried on each other’s shoulders. When Irrick lost the most important person in his life four years ago, we showed up again—with ears, words, and space to feel.

That same intention guided me when I asked him to be part of @insidevoicesseries realizing that my own worst fear was one he had faced head on years earlier.

To my brother—though distance separates us, the love remains infinite. My prayers and condolences are with you and your family through yet another tough chapter. And while I couldn’t make the service, I hope this serves as a living testament to your continued strength and resilience.

Lastly, thank you for taking a lonely fish out of water under your wing in ‘06 so lunch didn’t feel so lonely. Love always, family. ❤️🫂

Ms. Val, Dutch and G are looking down on you proud.