The National Addiction Memorial honors the loved ones we’ve lost.

Hera was one of the most thoughtful and caring individuals you could meet. She had a heart of gold and a personality that just made being around her so much fun. She would start dancing when a song she loved came on and didn’t care what anyone thought. To know her when she was sober was like having an additional person in your family. She would help you find a job you could be passionate about, encourage you to go back to school, and offer a temporary place to stay until you got on your feet. She was passionate about helping others and touched many peoples’ lives. She thrived in the Millville Housing Authority because she was able to help families and help the city she lived in.

Hera loved to learn about Native American culture and wanted to go back to school for archaeology. She was passionate about politics and wanted to help educate others on her views. She was always reading and educating herself. We have heard so many stories about how she could hold a conversation with anyone about anything. Even if she disagreed with viewpoints she would let people know their views were heard without judgement.

Hera was the best version of herself when sober, but her addiction robbed her of many things in her life including relationships with her family and many close friends. In her absence, we hope that those who are struggling with addiction will hear her story and use it as a possible instrument of strength to help themselves and reconnect with their families. We hope you will consider donating to Shatterproof, a nonprofit trying to help educate people about addiction and break the stigma that surrounds the disease. Hera for many years tried to make a difference in people's lives and by donating in her name she still can.

I have long lived with a fear that all families of people with substance use disorder feel. I have played out the scenario in my mind countless times before and felt the piercing pain in my heart but nothing could prepare me for actually losing my little brother, André, to a heroin overdose in February this year.

It was not the first time that our family and my brother’s friends had banded together to look for him, so it did not immediately click when my parents showed up on my doorstep unannounced late in the evening that it happened. My heart sank when I saw their faces, swollen from crying. We fell into a long embrace in the hallway, the door still open. Screaming, crying. They had not yet said a word, but I knew. I looked at my father. “An overdose,” he said. “Alone, in his apartment.” The thought of my little brother, my first friend, dying alone sent me into hysteria.

Weeks after his death I had a dream about him where he had been living on the street. As he walked toward me I could tell that he had not showered in a very long time. It was the first time I recall being able to smell in a dream. His layered clothes were worn, gray, and there were holes in his sleeves. I smiled at him as he sat down next to me. When I woke up, I contemplated the dream. With his athletic build, well-paid job and nice home, my brother did not fit with the idea I had of “an addict”. He had many friends and an active lifestyle. He liked to play golf, badminton and ride his Harley Davidson. In light of what I now know, the widespread misconception about what substance use disorder looks like allowed the severity of his substance use to pass unnoticed by me for far too long.

The United States Department of Health and Human Services considers the abuse of opioids to be a chronic brain disease. Like diabetes, cancer and heart disease, addiction is caused by a combination of behavioral, environmental and biological factors. Genetic risk accounts for 40-60% of the likelihood that an individual will develop addiction, but substance use disorder does not elicit the same empathy as other illnesses. People with substance use disorder continue to be blamed for their disease. As a result of internalizing this stigma, 9/10 Americans that need treatment do not seek help. Stigma is literally deadly. Judgement is lethal.

Many people do not know that substance use disorder can be effectively treated. There is well-supported scientific research on prevention, treatment and recovery methods that could have saved André’s life - and countless like him. Tragically, less than half of the treatment facilities in the US offer evidence-based care. This needs to change.

Bright sides become different after someone you love dies. Today I can tell André’s story and remind people that behind his struggles there was an intelligent, warm, funny and irreplaceable human being that is not defined by the way he died. Words can not describe how much I miss him and how incredibly proud I am of him. His fate brought me to a place of self-reflection and change. In his loving memory I commit to spread love, tolerance and compassion and help dismantle the judgement placed on the vulnerable in our society that need us the most.

My son Dustin graduated from Hobart High School in the year 2000. He left behind seven siblings grandparents and me his mother. I had never heard of the the drug Fentanyl in my life! I loved my son dearly but instead of saying I" love you" that night I told him to "wear his seatbelt". It was around 3:15 a.m. when I heard a knock at my door I remember that because when I heard the knock I ran into the kitchen to hide and I looked at the microwave I knew something was wrong but I never could have imagined hearing from his dad Dustin is dead! My son lay less than 500 ft from his father's home in a basement floor while his cousins scrambled around him no one calling 911.! It was family on his father's side I had no idea but Dustin was injected for the first time on September 6th 2000 one more time in between that and the morning of his death he had been given to injections! The legal battle lasted 5 years! I knew it wouldn't bring him back but I wanted the person responsible for putting that needle in his arm to admit what she had done so I fought and kept fighting I didn't care if she had spent one day or 10 years in prison I just needed her I knew it wouldn't bring him back but I wanted the person responsible for putting a needle in his arm to admit what she had done so I fought and kept fighting I didn't care if she spent one day or 10 years in prison I just needed her to say "I did this" ! There were so many people around him that night and they were all his family we miss him every single day. We love you Dustin! Until we meet again!

My husband was the most loving caring man you could ever ask for. He had the most giving heart, he would lend a helping hand to anyone that needed it. He struggled for many years fighting his demons as he called it. He lost his fight 8/23/19, I found him, that day changed my life forever.

Christopher was also the best daddy to our daughter Izzy, she was only 2 years old when he passed. I’m making it my life mission to make sure she remembers her daddy, honestly she is the only thing that has kept me going since his passing, I don’t know what I’d do without her.

I truly believe Christopher is watching over my daughter and I and guiding us through this storm 💜💜💜

Ours was a “good family,” like the ones we so often see on social media. Alex had everything going for him. He was smart, athletic, wickedly funny, and yet sensitive. He grew up as the only child of two college professors in a small New Jersey town south of New York City. He attended a small private school from 1st to 12th grade, where he thrived.

Everyone loved Alex, and he had many close friends. He played Little League and tournament baseball, and in high school excelled in varsity baseball. Along the way, he earned a black belt in karate and excelled in skate boarding, creating several skate videos of himself and his friends.

He went on to graduate from college, with a major in biology and a minor in computer science.

But addiction came for him, as it does for many young people from good families just like Alex. Many good families suffer through the loss of their loved ones, just as we do. Alcohol and drugs allowed Alex to self-medicate his anxiety and panic attacks from a very young age. At 12, he almost died from an eating disorder, and spent months in the hospital undergoing behavioral therapy. He started to drink heavily after his hospitalization as a way of self-medicating, to soothe his anxieties and enhance his self-esteem. He told his therapist that his daily life was torture.

While keeping the anxiety under control through college, he was unable to move forward once he graduated. As he and we struggled to find support for his addiction, I learned that our story is one of constantly moving pieces in a set of bankrupt systems--a broken treatment process, big-pharma-fueled prescription drug use, lack of insurance parity between mental and physical health, punitive criminal justice policies, and the lack of political will to address systems that are clearly failing. The federal government has provided little leadership. While the Obama administration implemented some important policy initiatives, most of these have languished or been rescinded during the Trump administration. Indeed, the current federal approach supports the incarceration of those with substance abuse and mental disorders in jails and prisons, and adamantly refuses to consider harm-reduction initiatives already existing in other countries and some U.S. states. We need to move beyond the personal choice approaches that undergird our current treatment system, the punitive policies of our criminal justice system, and extant public policy. The stories here--the stories of families who have lost loved ones--are an important step in that direction of revitalizing our approaches to the opioid epidemic.

Lynette is one of the funniest, outgoing woman you'd ever meet. Just as beautiful on the inside; as the outside. She is my sister. Growing up was not the easiest. There were 5 of us.

Lynette started started out smoking pot and cigarettes around the age of 12. Her first suicide attempt, was at the young age of 14, to which she took an obscene amount of pills. I remember her coming home around the age of 15, drunk- throwing up and had done cocaine for the first time. Naturally, taking on the "mother role", I took care of her. Different drugs occurred during the years... she was married by the age of 20 to a man who helped her get hooked on heroin. She ended up landing in prison for charges of larceny trying to pay for her habit. After she got out, she was clean, healthy, and happy. She then remarried, got her degree in substance abuse counseling, had 3 beautiful children, a loving husband, and a wonderful home. Some where along the road years later, she found her self "lost" again. Another suicide attempt with pills was made. She lost custody of her children and started drinking. Lynette would wake up in the morning's in withdrawals due to the extreme consumptions.

She then placed herself back in treatment. The fight she had in her following that was truly amazing! Back to work, seeing her children again, actively involved in meetings and most of all she was sober. Lynette was involved with family and friends. We laughed until our stomachs hurt during get togethers.
Her sense of humor was like no other... if you were crying, she totally said something inappropriate to make you laugh your ass off. She was a great cook to top it all off.
Everytime she came over, I handed her comb and asked her to braid my hair. I don't know how, but the hairstyles she did were salon worthy. She made blankets from hand, painted immaculate pictures, loved music.

She found herself with a man in her life. A man that knew the struggles, as he'd been through them himself. He would eventually become addicted despite his lengthy sobriety.

August 6, 2019 Is a night I'll never forget. A night that impacted everyone that knew her. She was pronounced dead. Accidental overdose- cocaine, fetanyl and alcohol.
I think the worst part about it is no matter what she was going through, her hear was pure. If you needed someone to talk to at 2am she was there without hesitation. I only wish she knew the favor would always be returned.
I'll never get to sing at the top of my lungs in the car with, eat one of her meals, laugh uncontrollably with her, or have anymore pictures taken for memories.

All I have is my own memories- and a sister I can no longer hug.

Zachary was my youngest (or baby ..) brother. I was lucky enough to be the only girl and the oldest in the family. Luckily my middle brother Alex and I have drawn on eachother to always remember and love Zach, RIP. My parents are amazing rocks for us both and we try to get through each day as a family. Zach was kind, smart, hard working, loving and a father to an amazing son who was 2 yr old when he passed away. Zach struggled on and off with addiction but it didn’t define him. I miss seeing his goofy smile and our “family vacations” being full. I will always advocate and educate drug overdose in his name and honor. I love and miss you so much Zach!!

I would like to thank everyone for coming today….As much as it sucks being here I am eternally grateful for everyone that is here to celebrate my mom for who she was.

It’s no secret that my mother wasn’t a perfect person. She had her demons and her faults. She had her lies and her secrets...but it wasn’t her. It never was. It was a thing that had come into her life and stole her from me long before I was ever born. And unfortunately it’s what brings us all here today.

They say when a loved one dies...you feel this overwhelming grief and sadness. You do things differently, you act different...you ARE different. And it’s true, because something that was such a constant in your life is now gone. You can’t just pick up a phone and call them or skype them or go down the street and go see them. Instead you visit a grave, a memorial...an urn, and you mourn them. You talk to them and about them but it’s not the same.

I loved my mom.I loved the mom that baked cookies with me on the weekends we had together, or would paint my new furniture with me that I kept at her house. The mom that threw a hawaiin themed surprise party for me and decided it was a good idea to host four crazy teenage girls for halloween. But that mom wasn’t able to stay...as much as she tried and I know she did.

Addiction is a TERRIBLE thing. And for 27 years I was by my mom as she struggled with it. I took care of her, lied for her and tried to protect her. Because as much as I hated what she was doing she was still my mom and I loved her. I had always hoped that she would come back to me. She would come back and be who she was...what I always needed her to be.

I haven’t spoken to my mom for almost two years. I couldn’t do it anymore and as much as it pained me, I had hoped that it would give her a wake up call and bring her back to me. It did...just not in the way that I had wanted.

When two people are connected, soulmates, parents and children, or even best friends...there is this string that is run between them. You know that no matter what is going on, if you pull it then they will be there. Right now..i’m pulling on this string and there’s nothing on the other end and I don’t know how to handle it.

This last week, I’ve been doing a good job at bottling my emotions up and locking them away. Bottling up the guilt and anger and resentment I have because I know that she wouldn’t want me to feel this way. She wouldn’t want me to be so angry with myself because I didn’t do more to help her... because I know that even though she couldn’t tell me, that she loved me and she knew I loved her.

So for now, I’m going to remember her for who she was. The woman who loved me even on her darkest days. The one who sang to me and supported me. The part of her who was truly and completely my mom. And everyone else here should do the same in knowing that she is finally free and happy and most importantly she’s home with her mom and dad who love her very, very much.

In peace, may you leave the shore. In love, may you find the next. Safe passage on your travels. May we meet again.

Brandon will always be the most hilarious person anyone ever met. His comedic timing was impeccable, as well as his ability to totally cross the line but in a lovable, endearing way. He was an amazing brother, father, son and friend until addiction stole him from us. He was embarrassed about his struggles which left him feeling alone and helpless. He did not willingly leave this world, but was rolling the dice when he scored a bag laced with fentanyl. We miss him every day, but hope our families pain will help anyone else feeling alone. You aren’t. You are loved always.

Like the Fourth of July, Trevor entered this world with a spark. Trevor had charisma...he knew how to talk to anyone, and people knew when he walked into a room (partially because he was a big guy and probably 10ft tall,) but he had an energy to him. You'd always find him talking about his next endeavor with such gusto that you, too felt hyped up. Trevor also loved cooking, and to be honest, he was really good at it.

Despite these passions, we lost Trevor at 24. So very, very, young - too young. The majority of his youth, Trevor struggled with different addictions, and life was very hard. The last ten years culminated challenges that we wish upon no family. Addiction is no joke. With the endless support of family and friends, Trevor overcame so many battles of his addiction, but unfortunately lost the war. We are so grateful for the love and support that was shed upon Trevor for his 24 years.

Trevor was and is so loved, as he will be eternally.

It was very difficult to find a recent picture of Joe where he was not high. He struggled with addiction for more than 10 years. He was in Drug Court and on probation, clean and sober when the Covid-19 hit. Courts were closed, there were no meetings and no counseling sessions. What would an addict do? Best I could tell, he had not been using his drug of choice during that time due to the threat of eviction from my home, but he was using. He was using Kratom and then Tiana. So far I don't have the tox reports back yet, but that day, June 2, he bought 7 Xanax bars. I know because I was able to get into his Facebook and saw the whole thing go down. Needless to say, the outcome is the same.

Joe is dead.

There was a super cool guy underneath all of his pain. He and I shared a real sarcastic sense of humor. We loved to watch movies together, especially Star Wars and comedy movies. He had so many friends that loved him. None of us could love him clean or happy.

A close friend of mine lost her son to fentanyl a couple of years back and she was the person I reached for. No one can know but another mother. No mother should ever know. She invited me to a support group on Facebook with more than 4000 members worldwide who have lost sons and daughters to a drug overdose. NOT ONE MORE! Please join us on Overdose Awareness Day, August 31, and urge your local and state representative to fly flags at half staff. Drug addicts lives matter.

Wyatt struggled with his addiction for about 10 years. I tried so hard to help him get better. He had overdosed twice before this. Those times thankfully, I found him in time and he was saved and rushed to the hospital. He went into four different rehab centers in three years. This last time when he came home, he was different. He wasn't his usual happy, healthy self. He was seeing a psychiatrist who had prescribed him some medications to deal with depression. Those medications took his spark away. He passed away just three weeks ago from using Fentanyl. I had been at work. I came home and found him on the floor in his room. No matter how much CPR I did and how much the first-responders worked on him, it was too late this time. And my heart is broken. He was such an amazing person. He was so smart, so kind, and caring and I'll always remember him that way. Not with the disease. I miss him so much. I used to get "Good morning Madre!" texts from him every morning. I miss those texts. I wish I could hug him one last time and tell him how genuinely loved he is. I wasn't ready for him to be gone. I know no one ever really is ready to lose a loved one. He struggled with more than just the addiction, he had depression and anxiety. And now I pray that he is truly at peace and watching over us.

My son was wonderful, funny and smart. He loved his family and his son was his life. He had a drug addiction that he just couldn't get away from. He tried more than once to beat it but it finally took him away from us.

Taylor was smart, funny, athletic, handsome, and an addict. Like many other people, he became addicted to opioids when they were prescribed for pain after surgery in 9th grade. He eventually moved from opioids to heroin. Taylor told us that his first thought in the morning was about drugs, and the cravings never let up. He even dreamed about it. Taylor struggled for over a decade - half of his short life.

Despite inpatient and outpatient treatments, drug rehab, detox, psychiatrists, psychologists, counselors, sponsors, mental health services, sober living homes, methadone, NA, and AA, he could not stay clean and sober for long. His addiction led to crime, arrests, and homelessness. He overdosed and recovered, and watched others overdose and die.

But it was not an overdose that caused his death. Taylor’s addiction also led him to steal money, jewelry, electronics, tools; anything that he could pawn for money to support his habit. It also led to his death. He was shot by a man who came home and found Taylor inside his house.

Taylor also had family – a mom, dad, stepdad, two brothers, a sister, aunts, uncles, cousins, grand-parents, friends, and even a family dog who loved and supported him. We are shattered.

His death was violent. It means one more person – the man who shot him – is now part of the tragedy. Our hope is that Taylor is finally at peace. I am not sure that the rest of us will find it for a long time.

RIP my beautiful boy. Sweet child of mine.

My dad who I miss and think of every single day. He struggled with addiction for a long time, and unfortunately those demons took his life. I would give anything to talk to and see him one more time. I try to think of the good memories, but I also think about all the things he’s missed, especially his grandkids that I know he would have just loved. I know he is watching over us though. 🖤

My brother Kevin was loved by everyone. He was the best brother anybody could ever have. When he was younger he was in a bad skiing accident, the left ski never came off and it just ripped apart the left side of his body. He almost died. He was 16 when this happened but later down the road complications from the accident would have him addicted to painkillers. He was in pain every single day of his life and he could not take it. No doctors would help so he resorted to heroin. It was the only thing that helped with his pain. He was 34 years old when he died from an overdose of fentanyl in his system.

Erik was an old soul and he was kind, had a beautiful spirit, was smart, handsome, talented, and very creative. He could talk to anyone, he was engaging and could be very charming. Kids loved him and he was always kind to those less fortunate than he was. He loved animals and considered himself a “Crazy Cat Person” but really had dogs all his life!?! He was a very creative writer and turned many of his writings into versions of rap songs. Baseball was his thing and he could give you every stat from the early beginnings of baseball to current players. But he really was an avid sports fan in general. Boy was he a Tom Brady fan but we won't hold that against him, hahaha. He played Little League Baseball, Pop Warner Football, All-Stars, and Travel Ball until High School, and then he played Freshman and Junior Baseball and Football. He did MMA and bodybuilding for a bit of time too. Not only did he participate in sports but he went to hundreds of MLB games, countless NFL games, Strikeforce, Bellator, Glory, UFC, WCK events. Supercross, Monster Truck, and Nitro Circus events. San Diego Comic-Con, college Bowl games! He traveled to Canada, New York, Florida, Colorado, Philadelphia, Hawaii, Arizona, Las Vegas. He has also held down a job since he was 16 at a few different spots and we were very proud of his work ethic. Went in on his days off and worked anytime time they needed him. He had a great life, great friends, nice girlfriends, and a family that loved him no matter what! Sadly the start of his demise was an injury in H.S. and he was prescribed Oxycodone. It took a few years before it was visibly noticeable that there was an issue but now being 19 we could not force him into rehab or get him to admit he had a problem. Things were looking up and we got him to go into rehab but on day 86, on June 5th, 2020 he left, and 1 week later, on June 12th,2020, he used Cocaine that he did not know was laced with Fentanyl and died from Fentanyl Poisoning!

WHAT I MISS MOST ABOUT MY SON IS EVERYTHING!!!

Our story..

When we lost our son, in my mind almost immediately I could only see him as a little boy. When I would close my eyes it brought me back to a time when all was right in the world. He was so sweet, so eager to please. No matter what was on the agenda for the day, it was always, ok mommy. I can hear his voice in my head, I can see his blue eyes looking up at me. Just writing this has me crying. As mommy my job is to protect. It was a time when I knew where he was, who he was with, was he hungry or warm enough? I could control everything. I felt very connected to my son. As a child Chase was involved in everything. He did football, soccer, basketball, baseball. He had a great arm. Was an awesome pitcher. Swimming, skating, he even went to tennis camp. He made a friend wherever we went.

The pain of losing a child is not anything that can be put into words, it's at your core. It's brutal, and it does not end. When you lose your child to opioids there is an added factor of guilt that goes with the pain. The first time we found out he was taking something was about 2 years ago. He and his brother came in and informed us that Chase had just been in an accident. Looking at him you could clearly see he was out of it. Fortunately, neither he nor anyone else was hurt. When he told us he had taken pills, Percocet, we were shocked. After he seemed like himself again we had a family meeting, all 4 of us. His truck was totaled and it was a miracle he wasn't hurt or worse. We know this is very addictive so we asked him specific questions about how much and why. It was an emotional moment for all of us because of what could have happened. He assured us it wasn't a habit. Chase and I went to church that Sunday to thank god for saving him. He was shaken, but did not want to talk about it any further. I informed him in order to live here he would be subject to random drug tests just to make sure we stay on track. He wholeheartedly agreed.

Chase worked everyday, and he was a hard worker. He never called in sick. He would come home every night and have dinner with us and hang out for a while. Never any indication that he was on anything. He passed his drug tests and we felt thankful that we had dodged a bullet and we were back on track. Fast forward to Easter 2020.
His father came in the house and said there is something going on with Chase. As soon as I went outside I could tell. He was talking nonsense and walking around in circles. We had never seen him like this. It scared us to death. We decided we needed to take him to the emergency room. We felt they would examine him and tell us what the next step should be. It's Covid-19 protocol. He was met at the door and we were not allowed in. They told us he'll call you when he's done. Two hours later he called us. When we arrived he was sitting on the curb looking exhausted, but our boy was himself again. When we got home we had another family meeting. Again all 4 of us. This time he truly opened up to us about how he feels about himself and how he wants to be the person his brother can look up to and someone we could be proud of. As we all cried, we told him how much we love him. We told him we can do this as a team. I texted him several times to make sure he called the number given to him by the ER Dr. He said he left messages. Tuesday night he came home from work, he had dinner, and then headed to his room around 8pm. Nothing unusual, he was going to play video games before going to sleep. At 8:30 I went into his room to say goodnight and to check his behavior. There was again no indication of anything unusual. When I told him, ok tomorrow I will test you, anything you did on Sunday should be out of your system by now and tomorrow you have to connect with a counselor. He said.. ok mom goodnight, see ya tomorrow...There was no tomorrow.

Wednesday morning when I got up I noticed his bedroom door was still closed. Odd, since it was around 8am and he is gone by 7:30 for work. I went in just in case he overslept, but not really expecting him to be there. I found my boy in the same position he was in the night before when I said goodnight to him. I won't go into detail on what I experienced trying to dial 911 and bring my baby back after he obviously had been gone for some time, but I can say it is a picture that haunts me day and night. It's not something you can ever forget. Unfortunately, my younger son heard my screams and came in. I wish I could take that painful picture out of his memory. It's something he will live with also.

His death certificate read....from moment of ingestion to death...seconds. In seconds our Chase was gone. Pure fentanyl. He should not have died. When the officers searched his room they found a bottle of urine in his pocket. A bottle you can buy at any smoke shop. How is this legal? How long had he been fooling me? When did it start? High school, college? He was prescribed Percocet for several surgeries, was that it? So many questions.
I've learned a lot since our loss. This kind of addiction does not discriminate, it doesn't matter what age, sex, race or social standing. You have a choice in the beginning when taking opioids.. After that the drug decides. It grabs you. Very little else will matter except getting that next pill, powder or whatever you can get.

As we try to put our lives back together and try to find some peace, I felt I needed to contribute in some way. Shatterproof helps to educate and end the stigma attached to this crisis. It's heartbreaking to see how many families are dealing with this type of loss. If you want to help with this cause please donate any amount in memory of Chase. Thank you for listening.

In loving memory... November 16, 1998 - April 2, 2020.

Dillon’s life was cut far too short, and his presence here on Earth will be sorely missed by all who knew him…all who were blessed by his radiance, his infectious smile that brightened every room and brought smiles to everyone who was with him. He truly was a beacon of light that brought joy to every gathering, every home, and every place he went.

He was quick with his wit and enjoyed laughing as well as making others laugh. He made funny faces, told funny jokes, and laughed until his and our sides hurt. What a joy. What a blessing.

Dillon had a heart made of gold. This was never more evident than when he was with his grandparents, whom he treated with kindness, gentleness, and respect. He could spend hours on end with them because he loved them so much. He was always so easy, warm, and thoughtful.

And, his style can’t go without mention! He had style for miles! His latest fashion statement was so “GQ” we joked with him that he should be modeling for a fashion magazine or walking down a runway somewhere.

He loved his family dearly, and his family will never be quite the same after this incredible loss. One day, one step at a time, we will learn to bear the pain of Dillon’s passing and learn how to navigate this journey without our beloved. This world will now be a little less bright, a little less funny, and little less secure.

Vince was born in Chertsey England and moved to the states in 1993. Vince was a very talented musician and skilled in many aspects of music. He was best known as the drummer for Moonseed and affectionately known as The Limey and V MurdaH. Vince loved his "scorpio" family and left behind his beautiful daughter Rhythm Jacqueline and fiance Karen Marie. His memory will live on through his family and the legacy of his music. 🎵🎼🎸🎤🎧♏🇬🇧