A Mothers Worst Nightmare

Billy Jay Memories

October 25th, 2003. This day 3 years ago was one of the worst days of my life. The death of my son, my baby boy, Billy Jay. He was 23 years old. I guess he will always be 23 years old now. No matter how many birthdays pass.

Billy Jay always had problems, issues as the world calls it now. I hate that when people say someone has issues. Everyone has some issues. Anyhow, Billy Jay had substance abuse problems that he just couldn't seem to fight. No matter how much all who loved him tried to help. Nothing worked. Yet he lived his life to the fullest. He had more adventures, both good and bad, than most people have had in their entire lives. He always kept a captivated audience with his adventure stories. All true. His short 23 years of live was filled with love, adventure, happiness and close friends. But it was also shrouded in trauma, sorrow and emptiness.

The evening he died, I did not know until the following day. I was at a friends home, Mamita and Jimmy's place. It was a Saturday. I wasn't feeling well so I left early. The cab we called, I knew the driver. He was a friend of mine. I got my dog and the 3 of us sat in the park in front of my apartment. Had a few beers and shared stories. I told him about my son and some of my little adventures. He went back to work and I went to my apartment. Early for a Saturday night.

In the morning on a lazy Sunday, Sniffy (my dog) and I were just laying in the bed. Thinking of which direction we would go for our traditional Sunday walk-friend finding adventure when the cell phone rang. It came up unknown number, which I usually wouldn't answer. But I answered, I don't know why.

A woman's voice on the other end asked for Mrs. Keys. I told her it was Miss Keys and yes, it was me. She proceeded to ask me if I knew a William Keys. My first thought was what did he do now. She told me we have your son. My brain was still a little fuzzy from sleep. I remember I asked her what she meant. First thought he was arrested for something stupid again, like sleeping in a park like before. She said "This is the Allegheny County Coroners Office and we have your son".

I had to think. I couldn't think. I asked her to repeat herself. I asked her "What are you telling me? My son is there? Dead?" she said I'm sorry but yes. I remember a sensation came over my body. Like a numbness just took over and sucked all feeling out of my body. Like even the emotion was gone. Blank feeling. So hard to describe. Was this real? Was I awake? Who would play such a crude trick on me? I asked her for her name and number and said I would call her right back. this I did right away and she answered. I asked her again what she told me.

It was real.

She told me the sketchy details. He was found about 7:30PM in the woods near some railroad tracks in Pittsburgh PA. I don't remember exactly what she told me of the exact sequence of events. All is fuzzy to me. I know I called my mother in PA to tell her and ask her to call the coroner again to make sure it was real. I don't remember crying just yet. Just not feeling. Too numb.
I called Mamita and Jimmy. Told them what happened. I just had to talk to someone while I was waiting to hear from my mom with the news. They came to my apartment within the ½ hour just to sit with me. I never even asked them. In the meantime I really needed a cig. I went to the Colmado. I didn't have any money. I didn't remember to take any. The guy in the Colmado asked me what was wrong. I couldn't even think of the words in Spanish to say but I think he understood because a few of my neighbors came by within that hour to see if I needed anything.

My mom called back She had already called my cousin, Josh, to go and see if it for sure was Billy Jay. Identify the body even though its only a picture that you identify. She was getting me a ticket to return to USA for later that day.

I called a friend, x boyfriend, sometime this day for I don't know what reason but he said he would take me to the airport. Mamita took Sniffy to stay with her while I was gone. I really don't remember flying on the air plane at all. I try to remember but I just can't. Most of the time in USA, that week, fades in and out still.

Billy Jay, once so full of life, was found face down near some railroad tracks. His dogs leash in his hand. The dog set free for some unknown reason. His backpack was with him. His notebook inside. He always had his notebook with him to write some poem or draw some picture that was floating in his creative head. My phone number was in this book, this is how they knew to call me. He had some change in his pocket and his wallet which contained a receipt for a McDonalds breakfast he and his girlfriend had together before she went to work. Maybe that breakfast sandwich was his last meal.

He died easily, the coroner said. Time of death was around 4PM. He was found about 730PM. He just slipped of in a sleep. They said this because he died face down. They said a suicide is face up. Under his body was the needle and plastic bag that held the death potion that took my boy.

I had him cremated. We had a memorial service for him. There was over 100 people there. People I didn't even know. Family and friends. Everyone so supportive. Many of us wore red, Billy Jays favorite color. I don't remember much of the service. People told me I shook through the entire thing. I don't remember. A few days later we took his ashes to the lake where he loved so much and set him free there. His grandparents, great grandparents, his school friends, his girlfriend and a few newer friends all showed up. We said good-bye to Billy Jay remembering funny stories and some of the crazy things he did.

His girlfriend gave me some pictures and some of his belongings. In the bag was a paper from his rehab he has just got out of a week before. On his list of things he wanted to achieve was 1) to get through Halloween clean (since it was his favorite holiday), 2) To get back close with his family (he stayed away from all when he was using), 3) To visit his mom is Dominican Republic (I told him if he stayed clean he could come and live with me. The family was buying him a ticket to visit me that Christmas. Billy Jay never made it).

Sometimes I can feel his presence. Two times I heard him call Mom. I can remember his calling me so distinctly. I can remember what his hugs feel like. His 6'7" body hugging tight. He was the best hugger. He always hugged. I can hear his deep voice saying to me "I love you Mommy",
tilting his head to the side just a little bit as he said this. I called him Baby Boy and he called me Mommy.

All I have are the pictures, videos, and memories. All memories, good and bad, seem to turn good when someone is gone. I try to never say he was or I had a son. I try to say I have and always will have a son. He is always my son. He is always with me. Even if he is not here physically.

Your Mommy loves you Billy Jay, my baby boy. I think of you and miss you every day, every minute, of my life. I try not to cry when I think and speak of you. I try to smile and remember all the good. I know this is how you would want to be remembered. With a smile and a laugh, never a tear.

Please check out the link to see the Billy Jay Memories site. A picture gallery of my sons life. If you open the drawings and handwritten items toward the bottom of the page you can some of Billy Jays art. Also the memorial contert flyer. Herion Awarness group and his friends did this in Memory of Keys. , the name his friends called him. This is a picture of the railroad tracks near where he was found.

People in the Street -"The Dance of the Dog" Lady

The people in the street are always very colorful humans. I love just sitting and watching them pass by me. Observing what they are doing. I never really lived in a large city where there are so many different people before. A big thrill for my son and myself was to go to Pittsburgh on Saturdays. We went to the strip District (the market area) and walked around. Trying different foods in the street. Going into different markets and talking to people. I wanted him to know a bit more about the world than I did. We talked to people, a Sikh man with a turban on his head. My son asked questions about why he wore that. An Italian man that ran a market. My son would ask all about the fruits and veggies and help put them out in the bins. We sat and listened to the music and watched the people. He even liked talking to the homeless people.
So my point is, that I was never really exposed to city life. To city people. So if I tell a story and it seems like an everyday event to some, it was an amazement to me.

The "Dance of the Dog" Lady or as Mamita says "Bailar de la Perra"
When I went to the galeria everyday to help Mamita out and make a little money here and there selling my jewelry I make I got to observe many people in the street. The same people passing by everyday. Saying hello. Going to their work or just taking a walk. The tigres in the street and the tourists. The tourists, almost all, did and said the same things as they passed by in the street. Everyday someone took a picture of the electric lines on Calle Isabel la Catolica. I know I did when I was a tourist.

But there is a woman that lives nearby. She is usually dressed decently. She does not live on the street. She is always clean and very opinionated in her view of politics. She has a passion for politics. She also has a dislike for people from USA. It is not that obvious when you see her normally. She says nothing but you can see it in her eyes. When she is drinking this is a whole other story. About 2 times a month, maybe 3 she gets a bit out of control. She frightened me at first. She would yell at everyone in the streets. Especially the people she did not know. She even got a little aggressive at times. Getting in peoples faces. A few times she was in mine.Some friends came and distracted her so I could get away. The lady may be skinny but she could probably take me in a fight! So when she was drinking I stayed away.

Mamita and I would watch her and her antics in the street. The others working in the surrounding galerias would be watching from their doorways as well when they had no customers. This dancing lady was known for her dance of the dog. She would get out in the middle of the street, a few times making cars stop and wait for her. Then she would start the dance. If you cannot picture what this dance looks like, imagine 2 dogs going at it, doggie style. When this lady was upset about something she did her dance, alone (thank goodness) in the street. She really went at it too. If I did that "dance" my back would not be very happy. She not only did the dance but she accompanied it with howling. She would be yelling out what she was angry with but it came out like a howl. So this really completed the whole "dance" effect.

After a time she decided she liked me. She would hug me and call me her friend from Spain. Even though I am from USA I let her think whatever she wanted. I enjoyed watching her and listening to her rant and rave. I also enjoyed watching others watching her. Especially the tourists. Most would pass as far from her as they could. I think many got brush burns from rubbing against the walls of the buildings trying to pass by her from as far away as they could possibly get. Then there were others that would just enjoy her antics. One man went in the street with her and did the dance, side by side mind you, not the normal dance of the dog position (again, thank goodness). We who were observing all clapped for him and had a good laugh.

The "Dance of the Dog" Lady is just one of the many colorful people in the Zone. There is always something to see.