God bless Uncle Jerry. As a child, Jerry was always there for me. I was a
fatherless three year old whose mother was on welfare, and Jerry was the father I never
had. I considered Jerry superman. His vibrant smile and his well built frame epitomized
his larger than life profile, yet his good hearted character and care free attitude towards me
were the things I looked forward to during those troubled years. Even though Jerry took
care of me throughout the early years of my life (age three to nine, the years my mom left
my dad and thus went on welfare), I still remember them as if they were the greatest times
Jerry was my mother's brother. He started caring for me when he was only twenty
four years old, with a whole life ahead of him. He put his life on hold for me and for that I
owe him the world. God made Jerry one of the most caring people on the face of this
earth. He cared for me like no one else could: teaching me how to read and write; playing
baseball with me; teaching me respect for myself and for other people; putting me back to
sleep when I woke up from a nightmare; he was a great guy.
I can remember a certain instance when I truly became aware of Jerry's kindness.
Jerry took me for a ride in his car, when I was about eight, to pick up groceries for my
mother. Along the way, along a back alley, we saw a homeless man wrapped up in
cardboard. Jerry brought the car to a screeching halt right next to the man's shelter. He
got out and asked the man if he wanted a place to stay for the night. The homeless man
seemed surprised and at first was skeptical of Jerry's offer. But with a little gentle
persuasion, the man got into our car and thanked Jerry for his kindness. Jerry and I went
shopping with the homeless man and even bought him some blankets. We returned home
...