Lee Thompson Young Born: Feb 1, 1984 Died: Aug 19, 2013 It has been a productive full day. Went back to San Ramon today to eat lunch with two of my friends who still work at the large complex. We laughed a lot, talked about old black and white movies, and those twisted plots that many of them had. The only dark cloud today was reading about the suicide of one of my favorite’s from the Disney stables — Lee Thompson Young. I loved his TV show, “Jett Jackson,” as well as other movies he starred in.
With a tragedy such as this one, so many will be left wondering why? Mental illness is a disease that many people hide out of embarrassment, or a misunderstanding about what’s taking place within themselves. Mental illness does not mean someone is crazy either, it just means that things aren’t quite sorting out within the mind. In many cases, medication can stabilize things upstairs.
I’m not sure what was going on in the handsome prince’s mind at the time of the alleged suicide, but I pray that he will find peace on the other side. I thank him for the years of entertainment, for the smile and kind heart that he was.
This pause is to remember the lives lost today in a senseless and selfish act of misdirected rage.
I cannot imagine the fury of emotions with the devastated hearts and minds left behind who are now left with the daunting task of trying to put the pieces all together.
This slaughter of innocent human lives attacks the very essence of beauty that is living and life.
There really are no words to paint any comfort for those with grieving hearts so heavy.
This pause is to acknowledge their lives, and I am praying their untimely departures will not have gone in vein.
On the drive in to work this morning I gazed into a beautiful early morning sky, cloaked with wispy pinkish-orange clouds, and my heart was filled with joy from the splendor high above, and I would never have imagined that news like this would follow such beauty.
I pause for the future of humanity, and for the distraught expressions on the faces of innocence that should never be… (teary-eyed) ~GD
In high school, there was this remarkable guy, a fellow classmate, who was about a grade or two ahead of me. His name was David. To this day I am still unsure what his nationality is. He rocked this sandy-brown, curly fro, and he was a phenomenal artist — one of the best I had ever seen live up to that point. He used to carry his portfolio around with him and one day I asked him what was inside. When he opened up that black, mobile-museum, the pictures it held inside captivated me instantly. He drew with such detail and I was in awe. It was one of those moments that had a profound affect on my life. It inspired me to start drawing, though I was never as good as he was. Another memorable recount about that experience is that he loved… . loved… loved… Donna Summer and in his drawings he never missed one tiny spec of detail. He created magic with an “Ebony” pencil. His pencil sketching captured every strand in the Cleopatra hair styling, every loop in those incredibly large Egyptian-like earrings, the multi-colored lacing in those stiletto ankle boots, and that black cobweb netting of her stockings.
That’s what I remember.
When I heard that Donna Summer had passed today I instantly thought of him, and wondered where he is today.