I don’t know where to begin.
I’m numb.
In shock.
Devastated doesn’t begin to describe all that’s swirling around in my heart.
My dear friend Dré died unexpectedly last week. Well..it was unexpected to me…and I’ve had a rough time since then.
I’ve been struggling with not only the loss but how…and even whether…to memorialize my friend. Grieving is hard enough, but doing it publicly seems crass, and when you add to that the light of his celebrity…I’m just not sure what’s best.
But after much reflection…I’ve decided to share a small part of my love for this man and tell people what made him special to me. I realized it can only help the healing.
Early Days
We met while we were students at Juilliard, but because he was two classes ahead of me, I never got to take a class with him and see behind that particular curtain. Still he became one of my dearest friends.
We first bonded over Shakespeare.
We’d been friendly at school but in the middle of my 2nd year and his 4th, we were playing Leontes and Othello, respectively. After those shows came down, we spent a whole lot of time talking about the characters, the language, and all we’d gone through as we worked on them. It was a joy to get to know him. And yes…you don’t even need to ask…his Othello was spectacular. Everything you’d come to expect from a character he played; strong, passionate, smart, articulate, and flawed. And thoroughly riveting. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. And yes, his Iago at Rutgers a few years later was also amazing…though I did think his was the better Othello. Of course… I’m biased. 
Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul,
But I do love thee! and when I love thee not,
Chaos is come again.
- Othello. Othello - Act III, sc. iii.
After he graduated we’d get together and eat, argue, laugh, and talk about the Really Hard Shit™ of life. He became a mentor to me as I moved through my last two years at school. When I graduated we both had more time on our hands so we’d hang out and watch my Pistons or his Bulls, play a lot of chess down at the Village Chess Shop, pool at Chelsea Billiards, and drink way too much at many, many bars all across Manhattan.
During this time he started booking gigs and he’d share advice and cautionary tales about his journey. As his fame grew in those early days, he struggled with many things, including being a highly intelligent, committed, funny, fierce Black man in an industry and society that tried so hard to ignore or actively crush that. Even after Kojak and Glory he kept getting offered auditions for “Scary Black Man”…literally…and was insulted and infuriated by that. He wanted so badly to remain true to who he knew himself to be, yet grow into the artist he imagined he could be. It took time but he ultimately did. In no small part because of his deep love…for Ami.
I remember the start of his love affair with Ami, and to say it had a profound effect on him would be an understatement. All the dreams of his future life began to include her and, more importantly, center her in his life. During whatever personal struggles he would encounter throughout the years, the tears shed were not over what would happen to him, but how it might impact her or their relationship. His love for her, and their partnership…and it seemed to be truly that…was a beautiful and inspiring thing to behold. And as a result of that love we got to meet their first born, Michael, while still in NY. It was an amazing time.
Movin’ Away
Loretta & I got married and moved to Los Angeles in 1994, so we’d see André, Ami and the kids far, far less over the years. We’d call every so often, play cross-country Words with Friends, and send birthday texts. He’d invite us to his premieres, some of which we were lucky enough to join them for in both LA and NY.
We also started a couple of ridiculous short-lived, long-distance traditions.
The first was that we’d trade each other a coffee maker for espresso machine after we’d each get bored with our particular daily caffeine routine. Such First World issues. The other one grew out of my wedding. As a gift, Loretta & I received some sort of fish-shaped glass serving dish. André laughed so hard and so much at the very idea, that for Christmas the following year, we gifted it to him and Ami. He called and we laughed our asses off. And the next year at Christmas…he re-gifted it back to us. I called him and we laughed our asses off again. We spent a lot of time doing that over the years.
Foodies
When he’d come to LA, he was my BBQ buddy…even during his short-lived vegan phase. (Sorry Ami…although I’m pretty sure you knew. ) We must’ve tried 10-11 different joints over the years and we’d review every one like we were judges on the BBQ competition circuit. We’d talk about the rub, the sauce, the tenderness of the meat, and the ambiance of the place. We’d pull and poke, taking small little bites…at first. Then gorge ourselves to the point of wondering why the hell we did that…again. All the while talking and laughing as if it hadn’t been a year or more since we’d seen each other.
I also introduced him to the original Sushi Nozawa. For anyone in the SoCal region…you know what a big deal that was…especially your first time. I saw the revelation in his face after he took his first bite of tuna tataki and smiled at his, “Oh my God!”. It was expected of first-time Nozawa-goers and it was priceless seeing him go through that. In fact, he was so taken that we went back 2 more times that same week. On our 3rd visit, after they asked if we wanted anything more and we said ‘YES!’ a 3rd or 4th time, they brought us little bitty squids. We stared at each other, laughed nervously, and choked those suckers down because we didn’t want Nozawa to kick us out or refuse to feed us any more. We decided to hold off coming back for a while after that as Nozawa was now pushing our palate boundaries beyond where we were comfortable.
As I was writing this up, I remembered that a few times when I went to Nozawa, the entire writing staff of Everybody Loves Raymond would show up for lunch, including Ray Romano. I don’t recall if Dré was with me any of those times…but I think he was. The synchronicity of that possibility warms my heart.
For years this was our time together, short visits while we were in NY or while he was in town shooting something. We’d swing by their place for dinner and see how all the kids, now Michael, Phoebe, and John Wesley were growing like weeds, and find out what their current passions were…you know, the general catching up. And it was always so easy. Like we’d been hanging out every day since the last time.
When he was in LA he’d come to see shows I was doing and over the past week, friends have reached out to tell me how much it meant to them that he’d attended our shows and how kind he was to them. The fact that they remembered these moments, often years later, is a testament to his lasting impact on others.
A few years ago, I told him I was bummed that we hadn’t gotten to hang out while he’d been out shooting a season of B99. We’d made plans a couple of times but they’d fallen through. He told me he’d been heading home every weekend. I knew he went back often, but that hit me like a ton of bricks. Here was a man who was commuting from NJ to shoot a tv show, heading home every weekend to be with the loves of his life, Ami and the kids. It kept him grounded, it kept him sane, and most of all…it kept him happy. Once again I was reminded of his commitment to his family and himself. What an inspiration.
For a while after we’d moved to LA, Loretta said she found it odd that I’d still say he was one of my closest friends because we’d go long periods of time without seeing each other or speaking, sometimes connecting not much more than those birthday texts. But we didn’t find it odd. Maybe it’s the result of our being a couple of Midwest Men of a Certain Age, or maybe it was the shared struggles of Juilliard or the times spent philosophizing, laughing and crying together, but we didn’t need to talk often for it to be meaningful. And when we did speak…it was usually for hours and much of that time was spent giggling like little kids. After getting to know him better herself, Loretta stopped questioning it. That was his effect on people.
André was one of the smartest, funniest, fiercest, most curious, supportive people I have ever met. He was one of my people. One of my very deep people.
It will get easier as time passes but right now, I’m having a hard time accepting that we won’t get to talk, eat, cry, and giggle like children any more.
He’s gone far, far too soon.
Now cracks a noble heart. Good night, sweet prince;
And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.
- Horatio. Hamlet - Act V, sc. ii
André…I love you, and will miss you terribly.