My biological father died in 1984 at 45 years old. I was only 14 years old at the time of his death. I really did not know much about him and was not connected to him at all. A few months after his death, my family and I met Dennis Brown, who was in charge of the moving company we were going to use to move.
We became very close to Dennis during this process. He became a father figure to me when I needed it most. He and I remained very close until I was 27 years old. He was the father I was meant to have. Life threw me a gift when Dennis Brown came into our lives. He was also my friend. We had a lot of fun together. I guess he was like my Genie in the Bottle.. Only he was real and not in a bottle.
My biological father and I had nothing in common. He loved watching sports, going skiing, and he thought sleep-away camp was the greatest thing ever for kids. I despised all three of those activities. As such, I never really enjoyed my time with him. Today, I would not go for a beer with him if he were alive. We would have nothing to talk about. I don’t give a shit who won the Super Bowl.
Dennis taught me to be a man. A good and strong man. He was a beam of light in a sometimes very cold world. Whenever people were around him, they lit up like a Christmas tree. He was so positive about everything and always carried a big smile on his face. Some beings are so lit up on the inside that they shine on their exterior. Dennis Brown was like that.
Sadly, he died of cancer on October 5th, 2015.. I was in Puerto Rico at the time. I spoke to him on the phone the day before he died. He was telling me that he was getting better every day. He remained positive until his very last breath.
I don’t believe in God or Heaven at all. But, if I’m wrong, I would ask that God send me to wherever Dennis Brown is.
If they ever tell my story, let them say I walked with giants. Let them say I lived in the time of Dennis Brown.
Sincerely,
Scott Smith