My youngest son, Ivan, came to live with me after his divorce. We were always close. I was close with both of my sons. I used to go in their room every night when they were young, and we would tell jokes and talk about what happened in school.
I divorced their father when Larry and Ivan were eight and five years, respectively, and I vowed that they would never want for anything just because he wasn’t there – and they didn’t. My mother used to complain that Christmas morning at my house looked like a toy store.
When they were pre-teens and teens, I decided that instead of them going out into the streets of Chicago, I’d open my doors to their friends. So every weekend, there would be about a dozen young men sleeping on my sons’ bedroom floor, on my living room sofa, in the basement. I had a malt maker that I had inherited from my aunt’s restaurant and I would cook hamburgers or fry chicken (my oldest son swore that I had gone over to Church’s Chicken and got their recipe). Sometimes I would order pizzas and rent movies to watch while eating the pizza.
Ivan’s collection of friends grew over the years. However, the ones from kindergarten through grammar school and high school were the ones who he stayed close to all of his life. He met his best friend, Warren, when they were four years old. Most of his other friends (Reggie, Hickey, Shorty, Maurice, Chris, and Sean) were friends since kindergarten. He met his friend, Wayne, in 7th grade. Others, like Mario and Scotty, joined the group of friends in high school. Then there were Michael, Robert, and Sam who he met later in life.
Ivan and his friends had a 17-member message chain that they kept going every day. They watched the football games together at each other’s houses, and when football season was over, they would get together and watch basketball.
Ivan was three years younger than his big brother, Larry (aka Chip E), and there was never, ever any sibling rivalry. They loved each other. Ivan was especially proud that his big brother was the “Godfather of House Music,” and he would brag about his accomplishments. Ivan was Larry’s biggest fan.
Ivan was also an entrepreneur. When he was 25 years old, I withdrew some of my 401K to help him open a record shop ChiTown Music, on 83rd and South Stony Island Avenue. After a couple of years, he found he just could not compete with the large record stores that oered records and albums at prices lower than his own inventory, so he sold the shop. He was not disheartened, because in rehabbing and decorating the space that became the record store, he discovered his talent for carpentry and design. He pursued that course, only to learn years later that he was much better at organizing, managing, and overseeing others. He took courses in construction management. He read self help books, not only in management, but in life. He was an avid reader. He read Russell Simmon’s book, Do You, at least a half dozen times. He amazed me when he read Eckhart Tolle’s The Power of NOW in one day, while I was still struggling to get past the first couple of chapters. He didn’t just read books – he absorbed them.
Ivan wrote his own mission statement, which he kept taped on his wall, above his computer. Next to his personal mission statement was a paper he wrote titled, “Living Beyond Yourself,” in which he wrote that our purpose in life was not to be self serving, but to serve others. That was the way he lived his life.
On the morning of Thursday, October 13, I woke up at about 7:30 am. Going to the bathroom, I peeped in to see if Ivan was in his room. He was sound asleep. That was my habit of looking to see if he was there because he often came home late at night. Sometimes I would hear him come in. Often I would be sound asleep, and so I would look in the next morning to see if he had come in. Or I would surmise that he would be spending the night at his girlfriend’s house. I decided I could get a few more hours of sleep, but when I got ready to get back in bed I noticed a card had dropped on my pillow. “Perhaps,” I thought, “it had dropped from my bookcase headboard,” although I didn’t recall keeping anything but books in it, It was an old Mother’s Day card from Ivan that began “Mom, sometimes I forget to tell you how
special you are.” I thought it odd. If he had been awake I probably would have shown it to him and said something like, “look what fell down on my pillow.” Ivan had taken an exam for a roofing license in February. He had already started his roofing company, got his LLC, and hired some crews. He had obtained the necessary insurances, and was beginning to do some jobs, but he couldn’t do the really big industrial jobs until he got his license. It should have taken no more than six weeks, but as months passed, he kept calling Springfield and they kept assuring him that the license was on the way. Finally, at the end of September, he and some friends drove down to Springfield and talked to the people in person. That’s when they learned
that although his company was called Skyline Roofing and Exteriors, the “and” on his LLC documents was expressed by an ampersand “&” on his insurances, and that was holding things up. They got that straightened out, and on that morning of Thursday, October 13, Ivan woke up to a call from Springfield saying his license was on the way.
As I sat, where I’m sitting now, at my laptop, Ivan was about to leave out of the front door. He had a huge smile on his face. He was oh, so happy and he told me that the manager had spoken to him and told him to expect the license the next day. Now, instead of making thousands on a job, he would be making millions. He was ecstatic! As he left out he said, “I’m going to Darnell’s
Ivan, Emma (me) and his brother Larry
to watch the game.” I said, “Okay, be careful out there.”
I was in bed that evening when my friend, Sasha, called me. I got up because my phone was in the living room, and we began to talk. I heard a loud thump. I knew a car had hit something. Then I noticed a car stopping and backing up. I looked out of the window and said, “Sasha, somebody got hit by a car and they’re lying in the street.” Sasha said, “I’m going to hang up and let you call 911.” I called 911 and they asked me if it was a man or a woman. I didn’t know, and I had my pajamas on and it was too cold for me to go out and look. Yet, about half a dozen people had stopped their cars and were standing around the person so I yelled “Is that a man or a woman?” They didn’t hear me and the 911 dispatcher said “Never mind.”
I looked across the street and I didn’t see Ivan’s car where he usually parked it, but it was 1:30 AM and I decided to call him and tell him to be careful coming across the street when he parks. He didn’t answer. I assumed he was probably still at Darnell’s
house, or maybe he had gone to his girlfriend’s to spend the night. About fifteen minutes later, I tried calling him again. Then I put on some clothes and my coat and walked down to the corner, where I saw the car had parked further up, where I couldn’t have seen it from the window. I told myself, he probably had someone pick him up and he left the car. As I walked back to the house I saw a pair of socks. They looked a lot like his, but I told myself there are plenty of people with socks like that. Yet, when I got back to the house I phoned 911 to ask them if the person that was picked up a man or a woman. They couldn’t give me any information, but suggested I call 311 and ask for the Fire Department and see if I could get any information from the ambulance driver. The only information I got from the Fire Department was that it was Ambulance #37, and it had taken the victim to the University of Chicago Medical Center at 1:35 AM.
I then called the University of Chicago. No, they did not have an Ivan Eberhart. I breathed a sigh of relief.
Ivan & me surrounded by family, nephew Konrad, niece, Chelsea, brother, Larry aka Chip, daughter-in-law, Ayako
Then I asked if a person came in an ambulance would they have the name. I was told that if the person was unconscious, they would not have the name right away. I asked about a person that was brought there by ambulance #37 at 1:35 AM. She said she could not give me any information, but they might give me some information if I got to the hospital. I decided to call a Lyft.
The Lyft Driver’s name was Angela. She was an angel. As she drove me to the hospital, and I told her why I was going, she said “I’m not going to let you go into the hospital by yourself.” So, she parked the car and came in with me. I asked the person at the desk, and they called someone from the trauma department. I waited what seemed like hours – but it was maybe 20 minutes. Finally, he came back. I waited for him to say “We don’t have anyone with that name or fitting that description.” Instead he said, “”I’ll write down the address of the building you have to go to. He’s not in emergency. He’s in the main hospital.”
I couldn’t breathe. “It’s him?” Angela embraced me. “He’s okay, if he’s in the hospital” she said. We went there, and the nurse or person at the desk said, “He’s in surgery. The chaplain will be down to talk to you.”
“The Chaplain? Why the Chaplain,” I asked. “It’s procedure,” she explained.
I called my sisters, my brother, my oldest son, and my grandchildren.
Ivan’s “forever girl,” my grandchildren’s mother, called one of his friends. The Chaplain showed up with a nurse and took us to the elevator.
By that time, my son and his wife and my brother were there. “He’s very sick,” the nurse warned. When we got upstairs, the Chaplain told us that he was still in surgery. They explained that his heart had stopped in the ambulance and they revived him. I felt hope. As people began to show up, the doctor explained that only two people could be on the floor at one time. That quickly changed. My nephew, who was born two days after Ivan and who shared the same playpen in my mother’s home when they were babies and toddlers, happened to have a friend who was the head doctor of the trauma center. He allowed all of us to come up – there must have been about 20 or thirty. He called us into a conference room, and each of the team members explained what they did. The discussion ended with – “We’ve done all we could. Ivan is going to die.” Those words cut like a knife. Everyone in the room was crying.
But God! But God allowed me to be awake at 1:30 AM in the morning and call 911. But God spared me from seeing my son lying on that cold ground – But He then shook my mind and caused me to go to the hospital to see if it was him.
But God sent an angel named Angela who wouldn’t let me go into the hospital by myself.
But God had caused his cousin to be good friends with the head of the trauma center for such a time as this.
Because I was awake and able to call his brother and children and uncles and aunties and best friends – he did not die in that hospital alone as a John Doe in the trauma unit.
Each one of us, all 30 of us, were allowed to go into that room and say our final goodbyes.
Ivan left in a bed, surrounded by loved ones, hearing words of love as he departed this earth.
Ivan was known for his smile – no matter what, he was always quick to flash his beautiful smile. My sister, Mary Young Grin, wrote a poem that she read at his service.
AND ALL THE WHILE HE SMILED
When I think of Ivan, I think first of his beautiful Smile …
I think of HIS COURAGE!
Most of the battles he fought we couldn’t even see
But he fought these battles quietly and valiantly
And he won a few and may have lost one or two,
But since defeat was never his to name
He just pushed forward to the victory he already claimed
And all the while, he Smiled!
I think of HIS FAITH!
Unshakable, unbreakable, no matter the
obstacle.
And he didn’t just talk it; he walked it
And he didn’t just walk it; he swagged it
Through hardships and disappointments
and loss and even fear
His faith is what gave him the resolve to
clear
His path of whatever stood in his way
The stumbling blocks he made into
stepping-stones
And even when he sometimes had to walk alone,
All the while he Smiled!
I think of HIS WISDOM!
Whether he was speaking on religion or politics or the Bears’ latest fumble
He spoke with clarity and confidence, and he didn’t mumble
He was soft-spoken and self-assured,
though not in a prideful way
But he knew what he spoke of and would say what he had to say,
And in speaking his truth He opened our eyes and our hearts to a whole new worldview
And all the while, he Smiled!
I think of HIS SPIRIT!
Humble
Unassuming
Meek
Peaceful
A spirit steeped in gratitude and love
An inner light that never dimmed
But glowed with a brilliance from within
That shined so brightly
It would surround him
And when we were around him
Sharing his light
All the while, he Smiled!
I think of HIS COMPASSION
His willingness to extend himself to others
No matter the time of day or night
He always found a way to be there right
When where and how he was needed
He heeded their call and gave his all
In comfort or support or just lending a hand
He did for others according to God’s plan
And all the while, he Smiled!
I think of HIS LOVE!
For his Mom, his Dad, his Brother, Chip; For his children and grandchildren and his “forever girl,”
For his aunts and uncles and cousins
For his many friends
For his church family
For his God …
His love resonated in everything he did,
everything he said
From the bottom of his feet to the top of his head
Even in silence and solitude, his love
overflowed
Abundantly, and with a profundity that gave it life
You could see it, you could touch it, you
could feel it
For wherever he was … Love abided So much so that whether he was talking with you, debating with you, singing with you …
All the while, he Smiled.
For the rest of my life, I will love Ivan and cherish the memories he’s left behind
Memories that defy death and memories that ease our mind
As we wrestle with our grief
And when I think of him, I will remember his Courage, his Wisdom, his Faith, his wonderful Spirit, his Compassion, and his unbridled Love
But above all else, I will remember his Smile
A Smile that reminded us that no matter what was going on with him or around him, he was okay
And so, as I remember his Smile today,
I know without any doubt that
All the while, he’s still smiling
Love,
Aunt Mary
His mission on earth was done. God didn’t save him for us. I don’t understand why it had to be Ivan.
I don’t understand why when he finally got his Roofer’s license and he was so happy that he had to leave.
He had so much more to do – I thought. But God knows best. And because God was in it so much, I believe that Ivan is in a better place. I believe he is still smiling. I believe God greeted him and said “Well done, my good and faithful servant.”
