Rest Peacefully Gabriel Joshua Wolrab

I’m one of those people that believes that art in all of it’s forms can touch you, and change you, and affect who you are as a person. Throughout my life I’ve been altered by photographs, paintings, songs, films, literature, etc. There have been things I’ve heard and seen that have made me reevaluate myself, my goals, my life. Sometimes the effect was subtle, and I didn’t realize how much something had touched me until something else forced it to the forefront of my mind.

A year or two ago, as I browsed through photos on Flickr, I came across a picture entitled ‘On the Road‘. It struck me for three reasons: a.) it was a damn good shot, b.) the subject was an exceptionally beautiful man, and c.) he was homeless: living on the streets of San Francisco. There was so much light in his eyes and he seemed warm, yet hardened. The fierce structure of his cheekbones against the curl of his lips was so well paired that I had to reread the caption, ensuring that I was really looking at a street kid, and not a model pretending to be one.

I favorited the photo, and came back to it, just to stare, quite often for a while. I wondered what had happened for him to reach that point: how he had ended up homeless instead of elsewhere, anywhere safe and comfortable. But, eventually I forgot him.

It was a few months before I was browsing through photos again and saw what I initially thought was the same photograph:

I recognized the face, but the expression was different. He was looking at, instead of above, and I read the title, ‘Gabriel’s Return‘, thinking that it was some sort of play towards the Gabriel. I accepted this as a valid comparison: I could see the qualities in him that would render him angelic to some, but as I read the caption tears welled in my eyes before my mind actually registered what I was reading:

…it’s 12:31 pm. march 2. 2007.
it’s hard to breath sometimes as the pulse races. or do i just forget to?
the subject line reads “on the road boy”
“i know the boy… he never made it through the year”

…it’s 5:59 pm. april 24. 2006. should it be this cold?
he’s sitting on the corner. like it’s his. he’s panhandling.
waiting for a friend to bring back food.
i sit beside him.

as people pass, he’s always noticed. some stop. some continue.
we talk about the road. about home. about life. about girls.
he’s gentler than you’d think. more interested in things you say. and he cares more too.

he’s not sure what’s next; but says now’s good.
his friend returns.

…it’s october 17. 2006.
it’s his gun.
it’s his choice.
farewell.

gabriel joshua wolrab, may 3, 1985 – october 17, 2006.

for his mother, his sisters, his brothers, his friends.

It hurt me. It still hurts me. It may seem silly to have been so pained, for even the shortest period of time, by someone I didn’t know in any capacity, whose face I’d only seen pixelated in black and white on my computer screen, but I was. Today is the 2 year anniversary of his apparent suicide. I thought of him yesterday, and I searched out his photo. I sat and stared more. For Christmas, I’m hoping to buy myself the framed print of the image.

Why he’s touched me so much, I don’t know. But he has, and all this time later, I’m all the more cognizant of it. What did he do to me? I couldn’t explain it to you.  That’s how I know his effect is genuine: when someone or something really affects me at my core, I struggle to explain it. But, because I feel what I do, I don’t feel the slightest bit strange in saying

Goodbye Gabriel.

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Tagged as: back food, Christmas, crying, dead, death, gabriel, gabriel joshua wolrab, guns, gunshot, homeless, sad, San Francisco, stoneth, streets, suicide, tears, the 2 year anniversary of his apparent suicide, the streets of San Francisco