Darryl Pemberton Remembered
Story #14 of 100
This is not meant to be a memorial or anything of the sort.
I am NOT a “funeral guy”. I find it sad, and an archaic remnant of American society, and maybe ALL society, that we wait until someone dies before we say anything nice. Or anything we wanted to say. Or anything that needed to be said … while they were alive.
As a side note to this article … I plan to begin a process, at least inside my small world, that celebrates people while they are alive and offers thanks and praise to the “good” in the world while all are active in it. More to come on this one.
Darryl died in his home on December 1st, 2024, his birthday, which was to be December 2nd. A “celebration of life” for Darryl was held in San Antonio on January 18th, and a gathering will be held on Saturday, February 1st, in Garfield, NJ.
I was asked to speak in San Antonio by Jarrett Lipman, a friend and past band colleague of Darryl at Claudia Taylor Johnson HS, and Darryl’s mom, Myrtle. Myrtle, again, asked me to attend and speak at the Garfield event, and I am happy to oblige
Darryl was a good man. This is what most needs to be said.
From the time he first walked into the Cadets, after a trip from Queens, it was clear he was a personality. Understated, Darryl had big eyes, a big smile, and an infectious laugh.
He was not a natural talent; he showed up at the Cadets perhaps not as a “physical specimen,” BUT …. he worked his ass off. He always worked his ass off, and yes, sometimes, he needed a little encouragement.
And as you will hear from the Cadets’ world, Darryl marched for 8 years and, by chance, was the last Garfield Cadet to march in the corps. ( this recognizes the name changes to the Cadets of Bergen County and the Cadets … not to mention the original name of the corps, the Holy Name Cadets) . I find this an odd claim, not one he made, by the way, but one others seem to identify.
My speaking of Darryl at the event tomorrow will be stories that might identify, if just a little, his personality, his struggles in life, his kindness, his passion to be great, and perhaps the struggles he faced in his efforts to be great … particularly with designing drill following a line of just tremendous visual designers … Marc Sylvester, Jeff Sacktig, Leon May, and many more.
Here is the thing.
Darryl did march in the Cadets. But he need not, and should not, be defined by such.
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Indeed, Darryl went on to be a great teacher. What was clear at the Texas gathering was the number of students ( well, they used to be students; they are adults now) who LOVED Darryl. They loved him for him. His work ethic, smile, laugh, passion for NY sports teams ( YUCK) … and love for life.
Darryl could be a jokester. He could be very serious; he dripped passion, and he was a good friend, a good friend to many. His close friends loved him, complete with imperfections, as we all possess.
Personally, I will never forget my picture, usually when he was standing in front of me waiting for a correction. Head down, big eyes peering up … and that smile. Frankly, there is no other way to say it … that shit-eating smile. You know, the one that comes when you know you did wrong, you know you are in trouble, but you love the guy standing in front of you, and he knows you love him.
THAT ONE !!!!!
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Oh …. I found this on a site from Damon Grant, a friend and co-Cadet, back in the day.
One of my favorite memories of Darryl was watching him outmarch everyone. He did it with a baritone horn in his hands, in a Knicks jersey, Yankee fitted cap, Army fatigue cargo shorts, and timberland boots with no laces. They don’t make them like that anymore.
Straight legs on the downbeat, crossing on the and counts.
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A lesson learned by me, or should I say a reminder
At least three young men and women stood at the remembrance of Darryl a few weeks ago in San Antonio
Each had a version of this comment …
“I wish I had told Darryl how much he helped me and how thankful I was for his care and mentorship. A few months ago, I saw him in a restaurant at 2 a.m., and I wanted to give him a hug. But … I was not sure he would remember me, so I said nothing. And now … he is gone”
I shed tears listening to these young folks. And I shed tears for Darryl. For his partner, April. For his friends. And for me.
Perhaps … we all will show people thanks, praise, appreciation, and love … while they can hear us … I bet … for many … it would make a huge, huge difference.
