Everybody liked Rock. He was that kind of guy. Likable. Full of life. Always giving back.
Ventura was my best friend. I loved him like a brother. He loved life, loved his music, and loved his wife dearly. He had been in prison for 34 years since he was a teenager. He was getting ready to go to the board and was doing really well. He went to all his classes, all the lifer groups, and spent time helping other people on the yard. He didn’t just think about himself. He never stopped giving. He’d talk to you like you mattered. He’d ask, “Are you okay?” and really mean it. He just had that kind of heart. He passed away yesterday while his wife and family were visiting. I’m really going to miss him. He cared a lot about Humans of San Quentin. He introduced me to you. He used to write in and always talked about how much he appreciated the work you do. He was too young to die. Way too young. I’m 55 and I think he was around 48. That’s just too young. It scares me. Dying in prison scares me. I don’t want that to be my story. I want to get out, visit my family’s graves, put flowers down, and pay my last respects before I go. Because you never know when God is going to take you. You just don’t. He used to talk to his wife during the night yard. They were always in communication. She would drive all the way from LA to Salinas just to see him, even when the rest of the family couldn’t. I feel for her. Losing her husband like that is heartbreaking. His nickname was Rock. My buddy Big Show just came to my door to tell me Rock passed. He liked Rock too. Everybody liked Rock. He was that kind of guy. Likable. Full of life. Always giving back. I’ve been incarcerated since 1995, sentenced to 25 to life under the three strikes law. I go to the board on July 10th of this year. I’m doing everything I can to be paroled because I don’t want to die in here like my friend Rock.
