Today is the birthday of my little brother Luis Gabriel Martinez (Gabo). He would have turned 40 years old. I imagine him just as inventive, funny and good humored, but with the enhancements that experience afford us. In September 23rd, 1990, Gabo was killed at age 17 by a supposedly "unloaded" gun. The kid that wielded the illegally acquired revolver pointed the gun at my brother's face and pulled the trigger in a jest.

Meanwhile, at Grand Forks Air Force Base, North Dakota, I was entertaining my dear friends David and Reneda Campbell, who had just arrived on base when I received the phone call. It was my Mom on the other side of the call crying, sobbing and with a trembling voice said to me: "your brother Gabo has been shot and we don't think he is going to make it". I hung the phone and like a mad man, took off running into a nearby clump of trees located near my block of base family housing units and began punching trees with my bare hands. To this day, 22 years later, I still get a weird feeling when I receive phone calls and my Mom's voice comes up.

My poor Mom, I do love you so and I can't believe that so much has been thrown at you in this life.

Gabo was my best friend and the one guy that could always make me laugh. He was awesome and I wish that all my good friends today would have gotten to know him. In many ways, I always felt that my boy Paquito took after him.

Happy Birthday Bro!