From Matt Wallaert
When you’re young, friends are easy. You go to college, they give you a roommate and presto, that’s your friend. Why? Because circumstances put you together and you’re the same age and so you’re friends. Even if he picks his nose and likes terrible music, it doesn’t really matter: so it is written, so shall it be. You shalt be friends.
Adult friends are different. When you’re an adult, you go to work or church or your kid’s soccer game and you’re thrown together with a bunch of people you might be friends with but most of them aren’t actually going to become friends. Maybe because you’re self-sufficient and you don’t need friendship quite as much. But probably just because nobody came along and forced you together and said the magic words. There is no one around to say you shalt be friends, so you have to decide for yourself.
Yode was my adult friend. We met almost 15 years ago, when he was at Amex and I was at Thrive, and I don’t really remember the exact circumstances of what we were meant to be doing together because I can’t remember a time when we weren’t friends. Which is unusual: I’m not a particularly friendly person. By nature, I’m a serious man, the kind of guy you call when you need extreme competence but not exactly the life of the party. If everyone is a superhero, I’m Mr. Wolf.
Yode was Mr. Cool. And he made absolutely everyone around him feel cool. And I do mean everyone. You may not have noticed but, I’m a tall geeky white kid that wears cowboy boots in NYC. But Yode would text and say “you up? Come here.” and I’d go wherever it was and it was just instantly comfortable. Whether that was wings with just Avi and him, or some fancy place with Georgia and folks from AMEX, or a big crew of folks he’d known since he was a kid. It didn’t really matter - if you were in, you were in.
I didn’t drink at all until my late 20s and I remember one time meeting up with him and Bangaly and some folks and Yode decided that was the night I should see what being drunk was like. And so we just started drinking and you know, Yode was a big dude. Bangaly is a big dude. And we keep drinking and it just isn’t doing anything for me. And the last thing I remember for the night was drinking with them and it not working and being totally sober and pouring Yode into a cab and him saying “You probably should stick with not drinking.” He wasn’t disappointed that I wasn’t wasted, he just considered it solid evidence that I had it right the first time.
Let me say it a different way. I got this trenchcoat, used off ebay at some point, and it happened to have this bright red lining. And Yode said that it was “a pretty dope coat”. And it is literally the only time I can ever remember receiving a compliment on anything I’ve ever worn, from anyone. And that was Yode. Wherever you were weak, wherever you didn’t feel badass, he would find that part of you and then find a way to prop it up.
And it wasn’t just words. I remember when Stephanie moved and we had to empty her apartment and the whole Churnless crew showed up, it was Yode who carried twice as much as anyone else. For absolutely no reason other than we were friends. He and I have shifted way too much furniture together and it always impressed me, how his support wasn’t figurative, it was literal. Absolutely dead literal. He would carry you if you needed it.
Yode was always a few years ahead of me. Married, kids, corporate job, all those things before I got there. And he always made me want to do those things the way he did. He loved Gio absolutely. He wanted to be the best dad. I remember going to watch Gio play basketball and Yode just losing his mind with enthusiasm for everything he did, even the tiniest thing. He was tough, for sure, and nobody is perfect. Yode hurt people, just like we all hurt people, in the process of becoming the man that he was. But I have never met anyone so willing to sacrifice absolutely everything for the people he loved.
Right up to the end. He would probably hate this entire thing. I didn’t know he had COVID until I called him just to chat. Ditto the ulcer. Ditto the cancer. He never came and said “hey Matt, shit’s bad, I need help.” He didn’t even want me to come see him when he was sick. Instead, he talked about his mom. Kim. The youngins. Gio. He talked about the fund and who he was backing and why it mattered. Unseen was the culmination of so many parts of his life. Because as much as love as he had, Yode had hate too.
I don’t know if you’ve noticed but...I’m white. And because I’m white, I’ve done all sorts of stupid shit and never really faced the consequences. But Yode wasn’t so lucky. He got beaten unconscious by the police; Officer #####*, wherever you are, fuck you. He got ignored by bosses that he was twice as good as; #####*, wherever you are, fuck you too. I find it profoundly...something...maybe just confusing...that the two funds he got going were named Humble and Unseen. Yode should never have been humbled or unseen and he lifted up and saw, really saw, the people he spent time with. And if he was personally humbled, personally unseen, then it only makes it more poignant how he made sure that wasn’t true for others.
And so here we are. I don’t know what else to say. I miss my friend. I wish he was here, writing this instead of me. I wish we were sitting in some hole in the wall, eating chicken wings, and laughing. I’ll never not be sad about this. But we have to go forward, because we can’t go back. And we have to go forward without him. But we don’t have to do it the same way. If we are changed, if we become better, if we change others and help them be better, then we will be living out Yode’s legacy. And he’d be happy about that. Whether or not we attributed it to him, whether or not he got credit, he would be happy about that. I hope we change. I hope things get better. I loved Yode and I have hope.
*Editor’s Note: Names removed, but the intention stays. 100%.
