In Memoriam

Ray Michael Dallabrida (DOB: May 25, 1982) would be celebrating his 35th birthday this week, but instead, on April 19, 2017, he died of a heroin overdose. Instead of celebrating his birthday today with his family and friends, Ray was found along the side of what they call “The Tracks” in Kensington, alone and dead. Instead of blowing out candles on a birthday cake, Ray is in a box labeled “Cremated Remains.”

A sad reality of Ray’s life is that you have to go back a really long time to find a version of Ray not tainted by drugs. Nobody can be sure what was real with Ray and what was not. There will always be questions for those who loved him about whether anything he said, at least in the last 20 years, was truthful. That leaves everyone with a lot of questions and the possibility of getting answers is now gone forever.

There were so many different versions of Ray. Perhaps you knew him back in grade school as a chunky little kid. Perhaps you got drunk and high with him in high school. Hell, perhaps you were the person who sold him his first drugs. Perhaps you knew him during one of his many college or job or jail stints. You might be someone who dated him. You might be someone who helped him evade his family or helped him while he was on the streets. You might have not seen him in 20 some years or you might have talked to him the week before he died. Maybe you tried to get him help or maybe you did drugs with him. Maybe you were a true friend to him. Maybe he manipulated you for money or drugs or sex or any of the many things that Ray manipulated out of people. Maybe you were lied to and stolen from and had your heart broken into a million pieces time and time again because you always thought that this time would be different. Maybe you still just loved him. No matter what version of Ray you knew, the end result for everyone is that he is still gone. He was here and now he is gone. He will be missed.

With so many questions and versions of Ray, another sad reality is that it’s hard to write a traditional tribute or memorial or obituary. He had no permanent address. He had no career. He had no real long term path or plan. All of those little checkboxes in life that most of us think nothing of - he didn’t have those. Nonetheless, there are a few things about Ray Michael that I do believe were legitimately honest and true despite all of the questions and I would like to share them with you.

Ray was truly brilliant. I was an excellent student but I had to work at it. Ray was one of those naturally brilliant people who didn’t have to work hard at things. He just naturally understood things. I always said that I may have had the best grades but Ray had the best mind. If Ray would have put his intellect and those powers of persuasion to good use, he probably could have taken over the world.

Ray was an avid reader. He was so well read that he could discuss just about anything in literature, whether it be the bible or the classics or some work of science fiction. He didn’t just read because he had to for school. In fact, he found being forced to read certain things for school stupid. He read because he enjoyed it and because it enriched his life. He read also because there was a pretentious part of him that liked being able to bust out obscure quotes and information in the midst of conversations. It gave him a sense of control and power. In one of our last conversations, he spent almost 15 minutes talking to me about the short stories of F. Scott Fitzgerald. Actually, more appropriately, he spent 15 minutes lecturing me about the fact that I had not read these stories and how they would change my life completely if I just would.

Ray had an obsessive love for the show “Gilmore Girls.” He absolutely adored the town and the characters and the charm of Stars Hollow. He loved the quick witted dialogue and relationship between Lorelai and Rory. But, more importantly, he loved Richard Gilmore. There was something about that man, that character, that he identified with and loved. He was aware of, but never saw, the revival episodes. He wanted my opinion of them overall but did not want to know any plot points as he planned to watch them when he got out of his most recent jail stint and wanted to be surprised. He never got that opportunity. I’d like to think that wherever he is now, he’s had the opportunity to see those episodes and mortified at what a terrible selfish person his precious little Rory became as an adult.

Ray was re

ally pretty good in the kitchen but those were skills that he developed over time. Back in our late teens/early 20s, he decided he wanted to make jalapeno poppers. It was a snack that we both enjoyed and he insisted on making them from scratch. I have no clue what he did to those things but, once they were baked, all we were left with was a big disgusting gooey mess of peppers, blobs of cheese and bread crumbs. They weren’t held together at all the way he thought they would. They were so bad but we laughed so hard at the disgusting gooey mess before we trashed them. Now compare that with the day that he wanted to make the Zuppa Toscana soup from Olive Garden. He did it completely from scratch without any recipe to follow. These were the days before the recipe was shared constantly on Facebook. He just used his palate and his wits. His biggest struggle was guessing whether they used kale or swiss chard in the recipe. He completely nailed it and it was delicious. I think Ray became the closest to his real self when he was cooking and creating in the kitchen.

Ray was a drug addict. He was a criminal. He made poor choices time and again. He refused help. He walked away from his life. He lied. He cheated. He stole. He was an asshole and he sucked.

Ray was a son and a brother. He was a friend and a boyfriend. He was an an uncle and a nephew and a cousin. He was smart and funny and charming and witty. He had the deepest eyes that made you feel like he could see your soul. He was loved by many and our lives will not be the same without him.

Ray is survived by his father, Ray A. Dallabrida, and his sister, Sandra L. Hagy, both of whom are alive despite Ray Michael telling many people that they were deceased. He is also survived by his brother-in-law John and his nephews Jack and Liam, all of whom unfortunately never really got a chance to know him. He is also survived by several aunts, uncles and cousins, all of whom are left with memories of Ray Michael as a child because he never gave them the opportunity to know him as an adult. He is predeceased by his mother, Patricia A. Dallabrida, and all of his grandparents.