In Memory of Buzzy

By Raymond Jacobs

About 30 years ago I met Buzzy in prison. He actually met me first. He said, “Hi, my name is Buzzy. I’m going to be your friend.” I looked at him and said, “I don’t need no buzzards and I don’t need no friends.” He said he thought I was cool because that was what everyone had said. When I asked him what I was going to do with a short sawed off midget that escaped from Ringling Bros., he started laughing. I said the only crime he could have committed was an escape from Ringling Bros. One day, while in prison, Buzzy came into my dorm illegally. I hid him in a locker until the police left because they were looking for him. That was when we became friends.

After prison, I panhandled on 9th and Euclid. One day, Buzzy stopped his car and gave me a hundred dollar bill. Then he said, “I bet we’re friends now!” I told him we were friends before this. I told him I had no way to pay him back. He never asked for it back.

Buzzy and I used to go to baseball games. He was an Indians fan, and I’m a diehard Yankees fan. We’d also go out to eat a lot. We argued, fought and disagreed about many things, but we were the best of friends. When push came to shove, we were there for each other.

When Buzzy was homeless, I let him stay at my house. I let him sleep in my personal chair. When I had to move, Buzzy and Kim helped me move. ”It’s us against the world,” is what we used to say. We were a trio. You always saw the three of us together. When I needed to buy a TV, Buzzy took me to Walmart so I could get it. There are so many stories I could tell about Buzzy, but it would take a lifetime.

The Saturday before Christmas, Buzzy worked behind the market selling papers. When his shift ended, he came to West 25th and Market on my corner to see me. I told him I didn’t need no buzzards over here. He asked me if I called him a vulture and I said, “yes.” We both started laughing. Then Buzzy asked me to watch his stuff while he went to Family Dollar. He came back, grabbed his stuff and said, “Merry Christmas,” and walked across the street and jumped on the bus. That was the last time I saw Buzzy.

On Christmas Eve, I called Buzzy to wish him a Merry Christmas. He said he was very, very tired. Buzzy didn’t like Tom Brady so I told him Brady had broken both of his arms and Buzzy told me he would check that out in the morning. But he went to sleep and never woke up, so he never got to check it out.

I hope Buzzy is Resting in Peace. R.I.P. Buzzy.