I have so many great memories with Vincent. The one he would usually recall was when we were drunk and he was walking me out of His and Nadia’s DC apartment. He slid from the very top of the stairs all the way to the bottom and almost took me out. We got a good few years worth of laughs out of that one.
The memory that sticks with me the most is the day we met at the DC book festival. Growing up in New York, when a stranger was kind to you, you thought they wanted something from you, and so you may be inclined to meet kindness with skepticism. Vincent complimented me on my Jordans in a line to get my book signed by Joyce Carol Oates and suggested we watch her speak on stage together. I was confused at how kind he was, but he seemed genuine. I just wasn’t used to it. We bonded over books, shoes and cigars.
Over time, I was able to learn that it wasn’t something he turned on or off. There was no catch. He was just that good of a person. It changed me. Made me more open to having conversations with strangers. Because you never know when you’ll come across someone as amazing of a person as him that can change your life.
He will be missed dearly.
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