I met Blake Edwards Webb during my first summer of the year of 2007 working as a Wilderness Counselor at The Salvation Army's Camp Kuratli, in Boring, Oregon USA. I worked here the summers of 2007 and 2008.
I served on missions team (funded by The Salvation Army) with him in Hawaii. I landed in Hawaii on Friday, the 31st of August 2007. I was there for 9 months.
I reunited with Webb, as he moved from California to Portland, Oregon to be the youth pastor at the Salvation Army church (corps) called Moore Street Corps in August of 2011. Before, I was not much of a friend, but we started becoming best friends in 2011. I helped him with youth activities and even acted in the children Christmas play at their church in 2011.
I stayed the night at his house Saturday night during the Basketball Tournament at Moore Street. I was helping Webb with sorting the shirts to pass to the players, and we were playing on a team as well.
Saturday night, we talked about my younger sister, about Megan McQuade, about video games, and I fell asleep on the couch in the basement at his house in Portland, Oregon USA. He fell asleep before I did and I thought I heard him struggle with breathing as he slept but I did nothing.
In the morning, I woke up and had some snacks and waited. I was upset because I think we were going to be late for the last day of the basketball tournament, but not that it matters since we were already defeated yesterday.
The owner of the house came home and did not know who I was. I told him I was friends with Blake. I knocked on the door of Blake's room, in the basement, but was not answered by the voice of Blake. I opened the door and saw a lifeless Webb on the bottom bunk of his bed. I told the owner man who immediately called 911. I was not able to perform CPR or mouth to mouth on a bouncing bunk bed with springs.
I did not pull him off his bed in fear of being accused of murdered.
Sunday, the 2nd of May of the year 2010.
By Joey Arnold, the Original Oatmeal.
About the death of my friend Blake Edwards Webb.
In Portland, Oregon, United States.
They say Webb was having small heart attacks.
I wrote about his death in details, which inspired concern in others.
People thought I needed medical attention and professional help.
Only a few confronted me while others did not even say a word to me.
I was not even asked to speak at his funeral or other events.
Ronnie Gilden hugged me briefly.
Michael Kurtz remarked about how I was still calm. Maybe he thought that I may have been like Dexter, a serial killer who also is calm in the mist of violence as well.
Showing posts with label died. Show all posts
Showing posts with label died. Show all posts
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Woof Died
My uncle, Jimmy Williams, AKA the Woof, died on or around Wednesday, the 6th of August of the year 2008 in his home in Warrenton or in Portland, Oregon, USA.
After Revolution Hawaii and Camp Kuratli, I was spending a week at WYI (Western Youth Institute) at Camp Arnold near Seattle, Washington USA, which is a 7-days-long young adults retreat for those associated with The Salvation Army in and around the west coast of the United States. Around 300 people attend annually.
My friend, Lincoln Hawk, suggested that I move to Long Beach, California USA. I first met Lincoln the previous year at WYI 2007 at Camp Redwood Glen in Scotts Valley, California USA.
In 2007, I started getting close to Lincoln, or it at least felt that way. His then-wife (in 2007) suggested that I move to Long Beach (LB), California (CA). From August 2007 to June 2008, I was in Hawaii, but I would talk to Lincoln on the phone, and he visited me and the team (Revolution Hawaii) on my birthday in 2008, and Lincoln suggested that I became the Youth Pastor Assistance at his Salvation Army corps (church) in Long Beach (since Lincoln is the Youth Pastor and Worship Leader, and other things as well, there).
Lincoln would talk in general terms with me, like in code, and it sounded like he was saying that he would get me to Long Beach in August of 2008, find me a job, and get me a place to live.
Lincoln got his friend, Jeanette Whitaker, to talk to me on the phone daily. She was in his youth group and she would call me daily. She started liking me until I accidentally called her ugly.
At WYI, in August 2008, Lincoln was basically telling me no, but not in those exact words, except that he was trying to say that I failed the many tests since he had spies in Hawaii that were reporting everything that I was doing to him. It seems that I failed the tests, which disabled me from joining him in Long Beach, California.
I had no backup.
In December 2007, or before June 2008, I was able to talk to my uncle, Jimmy "The Woof" Williams on my mobile cell phone that I inherited from younger sister. Jim was proud of me and he donated about $50 USD or $200, since I was in need of financial support to pay for my nine months charity missions trip in Hawaii.
That was my last conversation with Jim.
It was a worthy conversation that I will not forget.
I had no backup plan. I was simply going to go to Long Beach, California in August of 2008, but I guess that never happened, and Lincoln may have been saying that it is my fault, but his marriage was also falling apart, since he ended up divorcing and/or separating in 2009.
Therefore, I was at a cross-roads or fork in the road.
I felt uncertain about my future during the summer of 2008.
When I heard that Jim died, it went with the flow of how I already felt inside, which was a bunch of this and that, which means that the death did not sting me because I was already emotionally numb at that point of time.
My mother and her then-husband Mr./Mrs. Bill Williams Cunningham (since he did have alternative male and female personalities, but he is male) picked me up in his van on Thursday evening, the 8th of August 2008.
I did not say bye to people, as I left WYI.
Our planned family reunion in Warrenton, Seaside, and Astoria, Oregon, turned into a funeral for Jim. We were able to reunite with my 2 sisters (not my brother or my dad), uncle Brian Morehead and his family, the wife of Jim, Karen, and their 2 sons, Nathan and Alan, and their families, and my mother's parents, and other relatives. We went to the beach, to Karen's house, to Astoria Columns, too I think, to the graveyard, to a church, and other places as well.
Alan drove me in his truck to my dad's trailer, which is where I was born and raised in Forest Grove, Oregon.
until I moved into former apartment of my younger sister in Portland, Oregon, USA, in October of 2008, as I was working as an after-school assistant at the Daniel Grout Elementary School and the Kells Irish Restaurant in PDX.
In October 2008, my grandfather, the father of my mother, Dick Richard Morehead, died, and we had another funeral and reunion in November, this time including my brother Rick Schuylar Arnold, and his wife, Maria, in Portland and Warrenton as well.
After Revolution Hawaii and Camp Kuratli, I was spending a week at WYI (Western Youth Institute) at Camp Arnold near Seattle, Washington USA, which is a 7-days-long young adults retreat for those associated with The Salvation Army in and around the west coast of the United States. Around 300 people attend annually.
My friend, Lincoln Hawk, suggested that I move to Long Beach, California USA. I first met Lincoln the previous year at WYI 2007 at Camp Redwood Glen in Scotts Valley, California USA.
In 2007, I started getting close to Lincoln, or it at least felt that way. His then-wife (in 2007) suggested that I move to Long Beach (LB), California (CA). From August 2007 to June 2008, I was in Hawaii, but I would talk to Lincoln on the phone, and he visited me and the team (Revolution Hawaii) on my birthday in 2008, and Lincoln suggested that I became the Youth Pastor Assistance at his Salvation Army corps (church) in Long Beach (since Lincoln is the Youth Pastor and Worship Leader, and other things as well, there).
Lincoln would talk in general terms with me, like in code, and it sounded like he was saying that he would get me to Long Beach in August of 2008, find me a job, and get me a place to live.
Lincoln got his friend, Jeanette Whitaker, to talk to me on the phone daily. She was in his youth group and she would call me daily. She started liking me until I accidentally called her ugly.
At WYI, in August 2008, Lincoln was basically telling me no, but not in those exact words, except that he was trying to say that I failed the many tests since he had spies in Hawaii that were reporting everything that I was doing to him. It seems that I failed the tests, which disabled me from joining him in Long Beach, California.
I had no backup.
In December 2007, or before June 2008, I was able to talk to my uncle, Jimmy "The Woof" Williams on my mobile cell phone that I inherited from younger sister. Jim was proud of me and he donated about $50 USD or $200, since I was in need of financial support to pay for my nine months charity missions trip in Hawaii.
That was my last conversation with Jim.
It was a worthy conversation that I will not forget.
I had no backup plan. I was simply going to go to Long Beach, California in August of 2008, but I guess that never happened, and Lincoln may have been saying that it is my fault, but his marriage was also falling apart, since he ended up divorcing and/or separating in 2009.
Therefore, I was at a cross-roads or fork in the road.
I felt uncertain about my future during the summer of 2008.
When I heard that Jim died, it went with the flow of how I already felt inside, which was a bunch of this and that, which means that the death did not sting me because I was already emotionally numb at that point of time.
My mother and her then-husband Mr./Mrs. Bill Williams Cunningham (since he did have alternative male and female personalities, but he is male) picked me up in his van on Thursday evening, the 8th of August 2008.
I did not say bye to people, as I left WYI.
Our planned family reunion in Warrenton, Seaside, and Astoria, Oregon, turned into a funeral for Jim. We were able to reunite with my 2 sisters (not my brother or my dad), uncle Brian Morehead and his family, the wife of Jim, Karen, and their 2 sons, Nathan and Alan, and their families, and my mother's parents, and other relatives. We went to the beach, to Karen's house, to Astoria Columns, too I think, to the graveyard, to a church, and other places as well.
Alan drove me in his truck to my dad's trailer, which is where I was born and raised in Forest Grove, Oregon.
until I moved into former apartment of my younger sister in Portland, Oregon, USA, in October of 2008, as I was working as an after-school assistant at the Daniel Grout Elementary School and the Kells Irish Restaurant in PDX.
In October 2008, my grandfather, the father of my mother, Dick Richard Morehead, died, and we had another funeral and reunion in November, this time including my brother Rick Schuylar Arnold, and his wife, Maria, in Portland and Warrenton as well.
Saturday, April 5, 2003
Tiffany Died
I first met TIffany Rochell Cumbo (TRC) when I was about 5 years old in the year of 1990. She lived 7 houses from our trailer, and we were friends for 13 years.
Around 1998, her and her family moved to Cornelius and then to Gaston, and to possible other places, which I lost contact with her as she moved out of the neighborhood, but we reunited in 2001 and me & Bill Bailey would talk to her in person or on the phone sometimes.
Tiff may have attended my high school briefly, but then went to another high school, but I think she returned for the 2nd semester, in January 2003, which means I started seeing her again at school, which put a smile to my face.
I was looking forward to the summer of 2003 where me, Bill Bailey, and Tiffany Cumbo, were going to have adventures, or at least that was what I was hoping for. I wanted to marry Tiffany when I was eight and nine years old. I drew pictures about it, but then Tiffany started having "Other Boy Friends" with friends and neighbors like Bryan (who lived next door to me, space 164), and Juya Sa, the brother of Bhakti, who also lived next door, and Bill Bailey, and others.
My mother may have heard of some typical jealousy schemes that Tiffany was cooking with her friends, instead of being in school, at Mary's Kitchen, on Tuesday, the 1st of April of 2003, the April's Fool Day holiday. Tiffany may have been mad at her current boy friend or ex, or with friends, neighbors, class-mates, enemies, and they may have had a plan to get even with them, but I was not there and I really have no idea what was going on.
Friday, the the 4th of April, I high fived Tiff in the hallway around 1 PM as lunch was ending. That week, or that year at school, I talked to the short Tiff about her guitar, skateboard, Avril Lavigne like punk goth outfits, where she lived, and I would call her sometimes, and I was going to hang out with her more, go take a walk with her, but we seem to have schedule conflicts or I was not certain if I should bend my schedule to make something work.
That Friday night, I thought about calling her but I was instead rehearsing my lines for my church play for Sunday.
On Sunday night, the 6th of April 2003, I got praise for my partially impromptu performance during the church play that I and the youth group did, at the Community Baptist Church in Hillsboro, Oregon, USA.
Monday morning, the loud-speaker announced, during the beginning of the 7:55 AM art class that I was in, that Tiffany died on Saturday, the 5th of April 2003.
I am not sure how she died.
It may have been Tylenol overdose.
It may have been drugs.
It may have been an infected scar below one of her eyes.
It may have been any of those combinations.
I encouraged people as I spoke at her funeral that year.
Around 1998, her and her family moved to Cornelius and then to Gaston, and to possible other places, which I lost contact with her as she moved out of the neighborhood, but we reunited in 2001 and me & Bill Bailey would talk to her in person or on the phone sometimes.
Tiff may have attended my high school briefly, but then went to another high school, but I think she returned for the 2nd semester, in January 2003, which means I started seeing her again at school, which put a smile to my face.
I was looking forward to the summer of 2003 where me, Bill Bailey, and Tiffany Cumbo, were going to have adventures, or at least that was what I was hoping for. I wanted to marry Tiffany when I was eight and nine years old. I drew pictures about it, but then Tiffany started having "Other Boy Friends" with friends and neighbors like Bryan (who lived next door to me, space 164), and Juya Sa, the brother of Bhakti, who also lived next door, and Bill Bailey, and others.
My mother may have heard of some typical jealousy schemes that Tiffany was cooking with her friends, instead of being in school, at Mary's Kitchen, on Tuesday, the 1st of April of 2003, the April's Fool Day holiday. Tiffany may have been mad at her current boy friend or ex, or with friends, neighbors, class-mates, enemies, and they may have had a plan to get even with them, but I was not there and I really have no idea what was going on.
Friday, the the 4th of April, I high fived Tiff in the hallway around 1 PM as lunch was ending. That week, or that year at school, I talked to the short Tiff about her guitar, skateboard, Avril Lavigne like punk goth outfits, where she lived, and I would call her sometimes, and I was going to hang out with her more, go take a walk with her, but we seem to have schedule conflicts or I was not certain if I should bend my schedule to make something work.
That Friday night, I thought about calling her but I was instead rehearsing my lines for my church play for Sunday.
On Sunday night, the 6th of April 2003, I got praise for my partially impromptu performance during the church play that I and the youth group did, at the Community Baptist Church in Hillsboro, Oregon, USA.
Monday morning, the loud-speaker announced, during the beginning of the 7:55 AM art class that I was in, that Tiffany died on Saturday, the 5th of April 2003.
I am not sure how she died.
It may have been Tylenol overdose.
It may have been drugs.
It may have been an infected scar below one of her eyes.
It may have been any of those combinations.
I encouraged people as I spoke at her funeral that year.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)