The mechanical news bird circled over head during the late afternoon on Friday, August 19th, 2011, and I heard the fire truck zoom past the house where I live. I knew something major had occurred based on all the commotion overhead and because there was an eeriness in the air. There was also a sudden a coldness that swept past me as if it foretold what had taken place.
I’m not sure why I suddenly felt unsettled during these moments until I received the call that confirmed what I was feeling but did not know. Carl Earl Pervis Jr. (Man-Man), was murdered and his body was still lying on the asphalt a couple of streets over from where I lived. The images of a rosy-cheeked little boy, with curly hair and a bright smile flashed in mind and I felt like screaming out loud in the streets. Not again.
I felt yet another part of me die from the passing of this 19 year old man who had his whole life ahead of him to live. My heart grew heavy as I thought of the daughter he left behind — a daughter that will never know her own father. I cried in silent anguish for his mother who has struggled for years with her own demons, for the family and friends touched by his presence in this life. I took in the pain from his father’s heart — a father who raced to the scene, and lifted up the yellow tape that surrounded the parameters of where his son’s lifeless body lay.
He was gone.
Suddenly, I was reminded again of just how unpredictable moments are in this life, and I was surprised how it all engulfed my spirit and grounded it momentarily. I’ve heard the whispers that the senseless killing will not go without retaliation, and I’m wondering what anyone hopes to gain by a violent act of revenge, for a life that has transitioned on never to return.
A generation is dying here on American soil for reasons that I will never be able to make sense of, and all I have to offer are my prayers of hope that someday soon all of this mayhem and calamity will cease. It is my belief that the actions of our youth speaks to a mental disease that has inflected their hope because of an unpredictable future. I’m wondering what the world really looks like from their eyes.
I really had to get what I felt out in words instead of keeping them inside, because those of us he leaves behind have to move on with our lives — even though it pains us to know that he left us, prematurely, in such a tragic way. His passing will never be forgotten, for there will always be a hole left behind because we knew him, but I believe that he now soars higher than we can ever fathom.
Rest In Peace, little Man-Man.
Author, G. D. Grace
Author, G. D. Grace Literary Links:
“A Touch of Grace” Blog Talk Radio Show:
CALL IN NUMBER TO SHOW: (347) 215-6245
Author G. D. Grace reserves all rights and reproduction without written permission is not permitted. If found, legal action will be taken against the person(s) or company(s) that have cut or pasted (Plagiarized) any portion of this written document. Author, G. D. Grace; Published © 2011 August