Thanks to Big Tobacco, today marks THIRTY-FOUR years since my dad has been gone because of his smoking. He was only 50 years old when he died (the same age as his mom from her smoking), so he could very reasonably be alive today at 84.
This is one of my favorite pictures of him with me. He knew how much I hated his smoking and he thought it was funny when I would draw “Cancer Cures Smoking” signs and tape them to his nightstand. One year for MY birthday, he bought a smoking cessation kit for himself, because he knew how much I wanted him to stop, and this was all before his quintuple bypass at age 48.
Even that didn’t stop him from resuming smoking a month later and within two years an aortic aneurysm caused him to hemorrhage to death in rush-hour traffic on Highway 92 here in the Bay Area. He never regained consciousness and it turned my entire family’s lives upside down, including my immigrant mother who was somewhat lost without him. I had no choice but to step up and protect her and her household with my two younger siblings, so I grew up very fast knowing at that moment what I wanted to concentrate on with my activism when I went to law school (I was still in college on the other side of the country).
This afternoon I attended the memorial for my friend Michael Stanley. I didn’t know him for that many years and we weren’t super close, but I am so glad to have met him numerous times and having him as a dog-loving neighbor. He was a chaplain in the Coast Guard and I saw that he was in the Coast Guard (so dapper in his uniform pictures!) for years in common with my dad, who was also stationed here in the Bay Area, so their paths very likely crossed.
I know Molly and Coco, whom I’ve had the pleasure of dogsitting several times, are missing Michael. I’m sure Miguel is giving them extra hugs.
Oh and FUCK CANCER!
Incredibly, Shea’s aunt had a memorial service the same day, so by the time Shea was arriving from that memorial, Michael’s was ending.
One of the few items that survived my fire in January was my dad’s Coast Guard tie clip so I was very glad to be able to find that and wear it in this veteran’s honor. Is that even legal? I know my dad was a stickler about such things. He wouldn’t even allow us to write with the pens he “accidentally” brought home that said “Property of U.S. Government.” I later realized that’s because he was hypersensitive after he found out that his Navy SEAL brother had been known for stealing military equipment and selling it after he did two tours in Vietnam.
Today marks eight years since my best friend and mom died. I was a big-time momma’s boy. For so many years (thanks to technology), I was in touch with her all day long. We always kept some chat window open and messaged each other about various things no matter where we were in the world. What’s unbelievable is that her house was destroyed by a fire a few months before she died of fucking ovarian cancer. She, my brother and nephew came to live with me immediately after their fire, and then she got the Stage IV diagnosis just a few weeks later. She did not even live long enough for her house to be renovated and died when she was only 73. That’s part of the reason when I had an opportunity to work for City of Hope (which just bought Cancer Treatment Centers of America), I jumped at the chance. As if losing five of my dogs wasn’t enough, it was excruciating that the most sentimental pieces of her furniture that had been professionally cleaned in 2016, were incinerated in MY house fire in January. I can only imagine what she would think of the craziness that has ensued, including one of her sister’s family-destroying exploitation of her estate, effectively disinheriting my siblings and me. The entire family in Italy (which is very large as my mother was the first of nine siblings) has been affected by the internal family feud, which is STILL in litigation. Thankfully my siblings and I have been able to prosper despite the lack of an inheritance of our parents’ sweat equity, but my Nonna (who survived my mother) never spoke to that traitor daughter of hers — or her progeny — ever again. I know Mom would have been proud of my purchasing a home and improving my health (she was always concerned about my weight, sometimes bluntly), but devastated at the deaths and loss of family memories just a few years later. Years after she died she is still an inspiration that encourages me to make her proud.
Front page Vallejo Times Herald article today mentioned the five souls I lost in the fire and the pet grieving events I was already actively trying to facilitate with Kathryn D. Marocchino and Carlene Coury. Hopefully this will trigger more donations in their memory in the link listed at the bottom of the article. I do like knowing that their memory will help other cats and dogs find homes and have better lives.
Apparently I’m not the only one in the world to be out of the home and lose FIVE animals to a fire, as unfathomable as the thought is to have lived through. I’ve started reading this book recommended by pet grieving expert Kathryn of the Nikki Hospice Foundation who happens to be a lovely neighbor I adore and who even speaks Italian with me. Some of you know that I was working with Carlene and Kathryn and others about the periodic pet grieving gatherings that we could facilitate, particularly in association with the Humane Society of the North Bay, but I never dreamed I would soon be the “poster child” for such things.
I got a call from the veterinarian’s office downtown. I was told in the chaos of the fire that they would cremate all five dogs that were killed in the fire individually for free, which is very touching. I think one of my neighbors arranged that for me. The remains of the last of the five are expected at their office tomorrow, so I’ll have to pick them all up. I will make sure someone drives me because I’m not sure how I’m going to handle it.
I want a mulligan. Hit rewind. I didn’t ask for this next chapter. Fuck the universe. Most of my family was taken in minutes. Those dogs deserved a dignified ending in our arms at the end of a natural life. I’m peering around for silver linings.
My dear friend Steve Guy wrote on Facebook for me:
IN MOURNING TODAY
Early this morning (January 18) around 8:00 AM, Joe Hayden was returning from a veterinary visit to the house on Wellfleet in Glen Cove, Vallejo, when he saw indications of a house fire. The house went up in smoke and flames and it looks like most of the interior burned or has smoke damage. Despite having access to the yard we assume the fire blocked the dogs’ exit or confused them. Joe and his neighbor, Jeanette, who was traveling with Joe at the time, attempted to rescue the dogs, but they were unable to get past the fire.
FIVE of the 7 dogs passed away from smoke inhalation.
Cappy, Matty, Pancho, Polar and Snowball passed away from smoke inhalation.
Peaches and Snoopy escaped. Peaches has been returned to her original family. Snoopy and Joe will be staying at Greg and Steve’s until Joe can figure out insurance claims and other details. The house is not inhabitable and it will be months until repair and restoration can make it livable again.
January 18, 2024, is the worst day of my life because I was not there to protect five innocents who could not speak for themselves or understand the danger. It was the worst day of my life because I could not see it coming and say goodbye like I did with other pets and even my own family members who had illnesses before they passed away.
I have asked people who want to do something to give to HSNB.org/donate in memory of the Hayden Dogs that perished while I was out helping my friend and neighbor Jeannette take two foster dogs to get neutered.
My house was on fire twelve hours after I attended a meeting on (wild) fire prevention as President of our community Association. I’m staying at the home of very close friends with Shando (who flew back from where he was in Las Vegas) and one of the two surviving dogs for as long as I need to. The other surviving dog was already intended to be returned to her family of origin this weekend. I’m glad I did not have to devastate them with notification of a sixth death of an innocent life. That morning Shando was out of town so his trauma is different. He is here helping put things together as we figure out our new life, which will be very different. I already applied to lease the house next door to our home as it has been on the market. My neighbors, including the retired fire chief who lives immediately across from me and his wife and so many others on my block and the cul de sac behind me, have been incredible through the process, and I have friends who are claims adjusters and renovation experts. I’m being overwhelmed by the Vallejo community’s generosity and emotional support. I suspect my homeowner’s insurance will be comparable to what my mother had and help me rebuild, so it’s taking me some mental adjustment to say yes to having people bring me physical things as I am fixated on mourning the souls lost.
This is literally the sixth fire my family has suffered in my life.
Three of them were on base in an apartment building on Governor’s Island when I was a military brat. The apartment across the hall, with adjoining walls, had a pyromaniac kid. We had to evacuate down the stairs from the 11th floor three times into the cold New York nights.
One of the fires was on Staten Island New York in an adjacent townhouse when my daughter was an infant. Infuriatingly a man with emphysema fell asleep while continuing to smoke and almost killed us all from one floor beneath us, which partly explains my passion for tobacco control).
Then there was my mother’s fluorescent garage light from the 1950’s causing her home to be destroyed in 2016. My mother, brother, and nephew moved in with Shando and me at that point and my poor mother was diagnosed and died of ovarian cancer within a few months before the house could even be restored. There’s a lot more to that tragic story, but my point is that I’m now a veteran of going through the long and arduous process of a rebuild/renovation.
Because of all of this history, I specifically remembered turning off and unplugging appliances as I did ROUTINELY when I left at 5:30 am that morning of January 18, 2024. I did not allow open flames in my house and I had close calls with my daughter scorching the blinds with her curling iron when she was a teenager. If anyone fears being in another fire, it’s me. In none of those fires did I lose a single soul, though, because my mother’s death was NOT related to the fire in her house.
I dedicate countless hours to saving these creatures from an untimely death, so I can’t help but feel I let them down. Yes I know I gave them good lives, which is well documented. I’m looking for silver linings and I hope some things will improve in time. Shando and I are very lucky to be physically unscathed, although I do have some injuries from throwing garden furniture into one of the sliding doors and trying with neighbors to extinguish the back deck before the firemen got there.
My babies died, I’m told by the fire inspector after an extensive investigation, because of a bad extension cord (officially an accident so Shando and I can slow down on beating ourselves up with guilt) connected to a RECLINING COUCH that was only two years old.
Many of you know how much I love my home and garden. I post extensively on my blog and even toyed with the idea of having my garden in the Vallejo Garden Tour one year. The loss of the material things, including many sentimental items from my parents and grandparents that survived my mom’s own fire in Hayward eight years ago, is gone, but it is my innocent loving canines (mostly seniors and one five-year-old and two of whom were BLIND) who deserved a more dignified ending and certainly with me there with them. Thank FUCK they only suffered inhalation. I made a point to look at their bodies in the chaos and none of them were burned. A local veterinarian apparently agreed to cremate them all for free while I was still in a daze after some confusion. I think one of my amazing neighbors negotiated that on the spot.
There are many more details I’m missing, but I wanted to get some information out.
PLEASE remember to give to HSNB.org site in MEMORY of the HAYDEN FIVE – Capulet, Snowball, Pancho, Polar, and Matty.
I’m a broken man with five family members lost. Our babies did not deserve to die. I believe it was a six-alarm fire. We are overwhelmed with the community’s generosity and we’re working together to help one another through this loss. Our love for our family and each other cannot be denied no matter what happens, but for now, if there isn’t something specific that you can do for us and if you want to do something, helping other homeless dogs and cats would mean so much to us.
This is my friend Barbara and me with the two miracle survivors, Peaches and Snoopy:
Today is a grim 33rd anniversary of my father dying at age fifty from a painful, elongated death from his tobacco/nicotine addiction. I’m planning to write extensively about the gory details at some juncture. Like so many in countless families, my dad was gone too soon. Handed loose cigarettes while growing up in Hawaii at age 12, little did he know that he would grow up to die at the same young age that his mother would.
My dad and me:
At 55 I can safely say that my siblings and I have ensured that the “family tradition” of being addicted to nicotine and dying at 50 does not continue with us, since we remember how he suffered firsthand. Thankfully none of our kids smoke, but that doesn’t mean they were not targeted. They are definitely surrounded by their peers who have now normalized vaping in front of others. I am proud to be working harder than ever with my activism, one which was triggered when Dad died. I could think of no more noble cause at the time I entered law school than to save as many lives as I could, but Big Tobacco is still trying to addict new generations with vapes, even having the audacity to suggest they are smoking cessation devices! If that’s the case, why do some e-cigarettes have the equivalent of 400 cigarettes?
The biggest drug dealers in the world are making profits off of 22% of the WORLD population. Does this CARTEL deserve that? How many needless, preventable early deaths will they be responsible for throughout history? There is no depth to which this one industry will go, and yet it continues to prosper off the blood money of our families and now our youth. Big Tobacco is the enemy. Ask me how you can help.
Can you even tell which of these are vape pens? Neither can parents or teachers when they are consumed IN CLASS.
