#1 Jay and a dozen little girls in "leos" were walking from the beams to the floor. One 5 year old, who was particularly fond of Jay, grabbed his arm as they walked then began to hang on it. He glanced down at her and said "do a pullover." She looked at him quizzically. He held out his forearm and repeated "On my arm. Do a pullover on my arm." She grabbed his forearm with both hands, did a pullover and finished perched on his arm like a parrot with a huge grin. Then he said, "Now cast to handstand." So she did as all the "hotshots" watched in amazement as he carried her around the floor in a handstand on his arm.
#2 Once my daughter and I sat down to watch my son's class. Jay walked up to her and gave her permission to go on the equipment to get some extra practice. She replied sadly that she wasn't wearing her leo. Jay answered her, while smiling at me, "Just ask your mom to buy you one." (There is a cabinet full of leotards for sale by the front door.) Then he explained that she needed an "emergency leo" to keep in the vehicle at all times in case she ever got the chance to practice. Thanks to Jay, Nicole got a new "emergency leo" that day, the beginning of an ever-growing collection!
#3 Saturday Hotshots classes are strength training made fun with races and competitions between the girls. Most of the girls are very self-driven and competitive, but the youngest little girl - just 4 at the time - often dreaded these activities. One competition required two girls to get on either end of the parallel bars facing each other and hold positions above the bars as long as they could. Whoever came below the bar was eliminated from the game and had to sit on one mat while the winner went to the opposite mat to continue on to the next round. There was an odd number of girls, so the youngest was left with no one to compete against. So Jay shouted, "I'll compete against you, Alana." In one fluid movement, he grabbed the bar, hit the position, then let go. He made a huge slapping sound as he hit the mat below startling everyone in the gym. Laughter erupted. Round after round, Jay's falls grew crazier and more dramatic as Alana giggled while holding her positions.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Friday, April 25, 2008
Burial Service for Jay Rivera, April 18, 2008
The sky was blue and the weather was perfect in West Texas
Trees and flowers were in bloom after rain had fallen on Thursday.
JR, his mother Sandra, Ben, Tiffany ,and Justin, Jay's uncle Philip, and his father Paul attended.
The Baptist minister reminded us that Jesus accepted Jay and that he was at peace with Him.
The Twenty-third Psalm offered all comfort.
Paul read a portion of the 1914 poem, The Fallen, traditional at veteran's memorials.
He shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary him, nor the years memory dim.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember him.
Rest in peace, son.
Posted by Paul Rivera
Trees and flowers were in bloom after rain had fallen on Thursday.
JR, his mother Sandra, Ben, Tiffany ,and Justin, Jay's uncle Philip, and his father Paul attended.
The Baptist minister reminded us that Jesus accepted Jay and that he was at peace with Him.
The Twenty-third Psalm offered all comfort.
Paul read a portion of the 1914 poem, The Fallen, traditional at veteran's memorials.
He shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary him, nor the years memory dim.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember him.
Rest in peace, son.
Posted by Paul Rivera
Friday, April 18, 2008
Today
Today, in Amarillo, Texas, near to his son, Jay Rivera was buried. I have thought about him all day, remembering his many virtues, the joy and positive energy he brought into our lives. It's a very strange feeling, so much happiness and so much grief combined --but I know that he would be amused and find it fitting. The bitter with the sweet, the despair of the sublime, and the thorns of roses all come to mind.
Sending Our Love to You...
To Jay's family:
We wish we could be there for Jay's funeral today to let you know how much we care. We miss him. Thank you for sharing your pictures of your family and for comforting us with your kind words. We hope to do the same for you. Our thoughts and love are with you today as you celebrate and remember Jay.
We wish we could be there for Jay's funeral today to let you know how much we care. We miss him. Thank you for sharing your pictures of your family and for comforting us with your kind words. We hope to do the same for you. Our thoughts and love are with you today as you celebrate and remember Jay.
Monday, April 14, 2008
In a man's words
Last night, upon returning home from the Celebration of Life, I wondered out loud why Jay's death had upset me so much, more than some of my own relatives passing. I suggested a few possibilities, then my husband offered his own suggestion.
(Anyone who has met my husband knows that he is a man of few words. So when he speaks, folks usually listen.)
"Jay was part of our life and part of our future. As parents we plan our lives around the needs and talents of our children, and Jay was an integral part of that future. So our daily lives have changed and we feel the effects strongly."
I began to mourn that future without Jay, but he stopped me.
"Jay is gone. So we need to pass on the love that we have for him to his son. Every boy needs to be proud of his father. Especially with the events surrounding Jay's death, we should leave JR in no doubt that his father was a great man. He has a lot to be proud of."
Then he walked out of the room.
(Anyone who has met my husband knows that he is a man of few words. So when he speaks, folks usually listen.)
"Jay was part of our life and part of our future. As parents we plan our lives around the needs and talents of our children, and Jay was an integral part of that future. So our daily lives have changed and we feel the effects strongly."
I began to mourn that future without Jay, but he stopped me.
"Jay is gone. So we need to pass on the love that we have for him to his son. Every boy needs to be proud of his father. Especially with the events surrounding Jay's death, we should leave JR in no doubt that his father was a great man. He has a lot to be proud of."
Then he walked out of the room.
Jay, Thank You!
Dear Jay,
Thank you for working with Emily this last year. I know at times you thought the private lessons weren't helping; but in reality, Tyson and I saw a great improvement in Emily's gymnastics. You helped her to overcome her fear of the vault table, back walkovers on beam, and giants on strap bars. Emily's back handspring still needs fixing, but you were the first coach to get her to put her feet together- even if it was for just a couple of attempts. And she will get it right! You were the first to spot Emily's back walkover on high beam and to encourage her to try it on her own. You were also the first person to push her over into a giant and made it fun when she knew you were tricking her into it. I really wish you were here to continue the journey for Emily. We were really looking forward to your being her level 6 coach next season. But since that's not possible, I can just look to the future knowing what a positive impact you had on our family.
I enjoyed sitting on the bench almost everyday with you, hearing your funny jokes and seeing how you interacted with the kids. I'm really proud of you for working on skills with the children in the gym who weren't even in class. They were there waiting hours for their siblings- you were there making better gymnasts of them. Thank you for caring! Thank you for being an inspiration to our family. You mean alot to us.
In your honor, Emily and I purchased two new joke books. We're already practicing them at our house. Expect many corney jokes in the days to come. Last night we came across one you used to share...
Thank you for working with Emily this last year. I know at times you thought the private lessons weren't helping; but in reality, Tyson and I saw a great improvement in Emily's gymnastics. You helped her to overcome her fear of the vault table, back walkovers on beam, and giants on strap bars. Emily's back handspring still needs fixing, but you were the first coach to get her to put her feet together- even if it was for just a couple of attempts. And she will get it right! You were the first to spot Emily's back walkover on high beam and to encourage her to try it on her own. You were also the first person to push her over into a giant and made it fun when she knew you were tricking her into it. I really wish you were here to continue the journey for Emily. We were really looking forward to your being her level 6 coach next season. But since that's not possible, I can just look to the future knowing what a positive impact you had on our family.
I enjoyed sitting on the bench almost everyday with you, hearing your funny jokes and seeing how you interacted with the kids. I'm really proud of you for working on skills with the children in the gym who weren't even in class. They were there waiting hours for their siblings- you were there making better gymnasts of them. Thank you for caring! Thank you for being an inspiration to our family. You mean alot to us.
In your honor, Emily and I purchased two new joke books. We're already practicing them at our house. Expect many corney jokes in the days to come. Last night we came across one you used to share...
Will you remember me tomorrow?
Yes.
Will you remember me in a week?
Yes.
Will you remember me in a month?
Yes.
Will you remember me in a year?
Yes.
KNOCK KNOCK!
Who's there?
Forgotten me already?
Jay, not a chance! We will remember you for a lifetime! And then we hope to see you again! We will always be your friend.
Love, Karen and family
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Simple Virtues
So, you say this blog is not about Robert and Brenda Davilla. But it is about them, because they loved Jay, and today, they opened the gym and their hearts and with all the grace of heroes, they led a celebration of life. Jay's life. We all had a chance to meet each other and for his sake and because of his life and what he meant to each and all, to remember and to grieve and to share. When we are wounded, the cells connect one by one....
Here we are, together. United by one life that touched all of us.
I listened and I shared and most of all, I loved all the people who came. I loved them for being there, and I knew that they always were there for Jay, too.
For those who weren't able to be there, I shared a chunk of my life---the time that I died. I was eighteen, in the fullest of good health, and suddenly, mysteriously, in the night, a raging infection took over my body. An air sack in my lungs had exploded, leaving my body cavity open to infection. Within hours, a lethal build up of toxic gases accumulated and minutes after my college roommate tearfully brought my body into the emergency room at the University of Wisconsin Hospital, I died.
I rose out of my body, like a million tiny bubbles rising in a glass of soda pop, all coalescing into my recognizable self, hovering, cloud-like above the ER drama taking place below. It felt wonderful and I was not the least concerned. I knew that I had had this same experience many times before and I wasn't frightened. The word "death" didn't mean anything, but this gentle change of perspective, almost like diving under the surface of the water and seeing a different world. And what a world! A world without pain or guilt or fear. A world in which the only law was love. Unimaginable, boundless love, love that was inexhaustible, eternal, and absolute---NO MATTER WHAT.
From that moment on, and forever after, I have known "what love means". Remember the movie Forrest Gump? Remember when Forrest says, "I know what love means"?----Like that. No matter what. That is what awaits each one of us. Acceptance and love without any limit at all, love in spite of all our sins, all our weaknesses, and all our might-have-beens.
I have often thought of it and tried to translate it, tried to explain how it felt, what it meant, and how it changed my life. I'll leave it to each one of you to understand with your hearts ---each one of us is loved, cherished, and accepted as is. I had my glimpse of that "far country" and I know that when Jay ducked through the veil, he realized many things, but most of all, he realized that he was loved unconditionally.
Love--no matter what. That can be whether you are smart or dumb, rich or poor, fat or slim, ugly or beautiful---alive or dead. Love doesn't care. And neither should we. I have a little silver prayer charm that Jay gave me. It says "Love" on one side, and on the other side, is an inscribed heart. I hold it in my hand and pray for him each day and I will pray for him the rest of my life.
Pray for what? For his soul to be healed, for all the empty places to be filled, for his joy to be complete, for his future to be unfettered by pain or addiction, fear, or lack of anything. I pray that he will be reunited with those who love him, and that he will be able to do all the many things he wanted to do.
Last week I spoke of the fact that Jay always saw his faults looming so much larger than his virtues. This week, let's put the reverse on that. Remember one of his virtues for him. Recall it clearly and appreciate it, in him, and in others. While we are on it, why not make the effort to see our own virtues and the virtues of those closest to us? Like Robert and Brenda's great virtue and kindness to us all, in making such a wonderful celebration of life possible.
Here we are, together. United by one life that touched all of us.
I listened and I shared and most of all, I loved all the people who came. I loved them for being there, and I knew that they always were there for Jay, too.
For those who weren't able to be there, I shared a chunk of my life---the time that I died. I was eighteen, in the fullest of good health, and suddenly, mysteriously, in the night, a raging infection took over my body. An air sack in my lungs had exploded, leaving my body cavity open to infection. Within hours, a lethal build up of toxic gases accumulated and minutes after my college roommate tearfully brought my body into the emergency room at the University of Wisconsin Hospital, I died.
I rose out of my body, like a million tiny bubbles rising in a glass of soda pop, all coalescing into my recognizable self, hovering, cloud-like above the ER drama taking place below. It felt wonderful and I was not the least concerned. I knew that I had had this same experience many times before and I wasn't frightened. The word "death" didn't mean anything, but this gentle change of perspective, almost like diving under the surface of the water and seeing a different world. And what a world! A world without pain or guilt or fear. A world in which the only law was love. Unimaginable, boundless love, love that was inexhaustible, eternal, and absolute---NO MATTER WHAT.
From that moment on, and forever after, I have known "what love means". Remember the movie Forrest Gump? Remember when Forrest says, "I know what love means"?----Like that. No matter what. That is what awaits each one of us. Acceptance and love without any limit at all, love in spite of all our sins, all our weaknesses, and all our might-have-beens.
I have often thought of it and tried to translate it, tried to explain how it felt, what it meant, and how it changed my life. I'll leave it to each one of you to understand with your hearts ---each one of us is loved, cherished, and accepted as is. I had my glimpse of that "far country" and I know that when Jay ducked through the veil, he realized many things, but most of all, he realized that he was loved unconditionally.
Love--no matter what. That can be whether you are smart or dumb, rich or poor, fat or slim, ugly or beautiful---alive or dead. Love doesn't care. And neither should we. I have a little silver prayer charm that Jay gave me. It says "Love" on one side, and on the other side, is an inscribed heart. I hold it in my hand and pray for him each day and I will pray for him the rest of my life.
Pray for what? For his soul to be healed, for all the empty places to be filled, for his joy to be complete, for his future to be unfettered by pain or addiction, fear, or lack of anything. I pray that he will be reunited with those who love him, and that he will be able to do all the many things he wanted to do.
Last week I spoke of the fact that Jay always saw his faults looming so much larger than his virtues. This week, let's put the reverse on that. Remember one of his virtues for him. Recall it clearly and appreciate it, in him, and in others. While we are on it, why not make the effort to see our own virtues and the virtues of those closest to us? Like Robert and Brenda's great virtue and kindness to us all, in making such a wonderful celebration of life possible.
Letter from Jay's Father
April 10, 2008
Dear Excel Gymnasts, Parents, and Friends of My Son, Jay:
As you celebrate the life of Jay Rivera, your coach and my son, I want to tell you how much your kind and thoughtful words and actions these past few weeks have meant to me and my family. For us as for you, this has been a most difficult time as we seek to understand and accept the tragic end to his life. We all ask ourselves “why”? The simple but hard-to-accept answer is that the problems that plagued the final years of Jay’s life became too much for him to deal with any longer.
But rather than dwell on this personal tragedy, I would have you focus on celebrating the joy in his life. My son loved gymnastics; from the moment the barely-four-year-old boy asked his older sister’s dance and gymnastic coach if he could try tricks the class had just demonstrated for admiring parents, to the day he led his University of Illinois, Chicago Men’s Gymnastics team to victory and achieved a life-time best all-around score, to that time on Saturday, March 22, 2008 when his Excel Boys Team won the Alaska State Championship, my son loved gymnastics. As an adult, this was transformed into a love for teaching gymnastics to beginner classes and competitive teams. He found his joy and fulfillment in teaching gymnastics. My family and I would like to thank you for being an important part of this dimension of his life.
As a teacher, I believe that there are some lessons to be learned from Jay’s experiences. I would like you to take away from your time with my son, the example he gave you about loving what you do and doing your best at it. But, you should also learn from Jay’s life that poor choices can have tragic consequences. I am certain that he never thought that the choices he made as a teenager or young adult would lead him to such a sad end.
My family and I have read the many positive comments posted on the “In Memory of Coach Jay” website as well those found on local newspaper internet sites. Your words have provided solace in our time of sorrow. They have reminded us that despite his problems he had found good friends in Alaska. And they have helped us recall the many happy memories we have of Jay. Thank you for your kindnesses.
Gratefully,
Paul R. Rivera
Dear Excel Gymnasts, Parents, and Friends of My Son, Jay:
As you celebrate the life of Jay Rivera, your coach and my son, I want to tell you how much your kind and thoughtful words and actions these past few weeks have meant to me and my family. For us as for you, this has been a most difficult time as we seek to understand and accept the tragic end to his life. We all ask ourselves “why”? The simple but hard-to-accept answer is that the problems that plagued the final years of Jay’s life became too much for him to deal with any longer.
But rather than dwell on this personal tragedy, I would have you focus on celebrating the joy in his life. My son loved gymnastics; from the moment the barely-four-year-old boy asked his older sister’s dance and gymnastic coach if he could try tricks the class had just demonstrated for admiring parents, to the day he led his University of Illinois, Chicago Men’s Gymnastics team to victory and achieved a life-time best all-around score, to that time on Saturday, March 22, 2008 when his Excel Boys Team won the Alaska State Championship, my son loved gymnastics. As an adult, this was transformed into a love for teaching gymnastics to beginner classes and competitive teams. He found his joy and fulfillment in teaching gymnastics. My family and I would like to thank you for being an important part of this dimension of his life.
As a teacher, I believe that there are some lessons to be learned from Jay’s experiences. I would like you to take away from your time with my son, the example he gave you about loving what you do and doing your best at it. But, you should also learn from Jay’s life that poor choices can have tragic consequences. I am certain that he never thought that the choices he made as a teenager or young adult would lead him to such a sad end.
My family and I have read the many positive comments posted on the “In Memory of Coach Jay” website as well those found on local newspaper internet sites. Your words have provided solace in our time of sorrow. They have reminded us that despite his problems he had found good friends in Alaska. And they have helped us recall the many happy memories we have of Jay. Thank you for your kindnesses.
Gratefully,
Paul R. Rivera
Friday, April 11, 2008
Life is missing so much!
I was at the gym tonight just like I am every Friday and things are so different..... I am not too sure if it is just the absence of Coach Jay! It is the lull in everyone around there. I have all the expectations that I had when Jay was there and for whatever reason things are still soooo strange. There is a void in the gym NO DOUBT about it. It is like everyone just smiles at each other and they drop their child off and leave. I am not too sure what I am trying to say except my heart and my soul are missing so much without Coach Jay here. I know that he is looking down on me thinking "Why are you being so crazy Heather it is not like we were best friends!!!" However even I had NO IDEA how much he meant to me. I have so many things that are bothering me like that my brother NEVER came to the gym to see E workout with Jay and not that he can't come but it will never be the same for me. While I was there trying to figure out why things were soooo different in everything and everyone I realized that I hate change.... Maybe that is what it is for so many. I had no control over the things that have changed and I do not like that powerless feeling. I just keep hoping that things will get back to normal however I have to realize that this weirdness will become the norm and I hate that. I miss Jay way more then I would have ever thought that I would and I have gone through so many things like anger pure sadness and blaming everyone else...... Now I am just really really bummed that I lost a Hero before I ever even knew that he was a hero to me and so I never told him he was a real Hero to not only me but my family. This has effected every aspect of my life I finally sent out the cards to my close friends to tell them how much they mean to me (something I have been meaning to do for a year) I have cleaned and re organized everything around here, and I have tried to be more thoughtful to people I see out in public (smile even if they don't, make a silly joke) then when I really think about all of it in a huge big picture I realize that Jay was sooooo much more then the guy I saw at the gym, the coach to my son, he was one of my Hero's and he always will be forever. I will never forget him and I sure hope that my life will be stronger for the time I had with him and I will tell people how much they mean. I know that I am ranting not making much sense but oh well that is what this blog is all about for me ....... I miss you Jay!
I still can't believe...
that Jay is gone and that this is what he wanted. The more time passes the less it makes sense. Things don't add up. Stories and reports contradict. Maybe it is my heart trying to confuse my brain, but I simply can't accept it.
It is as if he walked to the edge of a cliff and thought about jumping. But before he could finish his internal struggle, he tripped, or maybe he was pushed. Either way, it was he who put himself next to the cliff and I have to hold him responsible for that. But that is all that my heart and my mind will allow.
It is simply tragic.
And in all the great tragedies, the hero dies. He is never perfect, but there is something wonderful and compelling about him that makes him loved and admired. He has a vitality that makes him real, so real that it is often too much for his antagonists to bear.
Simultaneously, the hero has that fatal flaw that inevitably leads to his end. That vital force that drives him to excellence cannot tolerate anything less, especially in himself.
So as our hero faces his mortality and the fallen nature of humanity, his next action becomes irrelevant. Because the sword that scratched him had already been dipped in poison. The message about the apothecary's potion never arrived. And we watched helplessly as the hero's body was dragged behind the warrior's chariot.
Fate intervened and this is what Fate allowed.
When Jay put on that red shirt he could not have known how the day would unfold. How could he have foreseen that he would be surrounded by 12 police officers? He couldn't have. No, that red shirt has another meaning. It is symbolic, for sure, but it's meaning eludes me.
Perhaps I need to accept, that only the Author knows.
It is as if he walked to the edge of a cliff and thought about jumping. But before he could finish his internal struggle, he tripped, or maybe he was pushed. Either way, it was he who put himself next to the cliff and I have to hold him responsible for that. But that is all that my heart and my mind will allow.
It is simply tragic.
And in all the great tragedies, the hero dies. He is never perfect, but there is something wonderful and compelling about him that makes him loved and admired. He has a vitality that makes him real, so real that it is often too much for his antagonists to bear.
Simultaneously, the hero has that fatal flaw that inevitably leads to his end. That vital force that drives him to excellence cannot tolerate anything less, especially in himself.
So as our hero faces his mortality and the fallen nature of humanity, his next action becomes irrelevant. Because the sword that scratched him had already been dipped in poison. The message about the apothecary's potion never arrived. And we watched helplessly as the hero's body was dragged behind the warrior's chariot.
Fate intervened and this is what Fate allowed.
When Jay put on that red shirt he could not have known how the day would unfold. How could he have foreseen that he would be surrounded by 12 police officers? He couldn't have. No, that red shirt has another meaning. It is symbolic, for sure, but it's meaning eludes me.
Perhaps I need to accept, that only the Author knows.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Forever Grateful
There are many people who come and go in our lives.
A few touch us in ways that change us forever,
Making us better from knowing them
...
Jay...you have made a difference in our lives and for this we will be forever grateful. God be with you
A few touch us in ways that change us forever,
Making us better from knowing them
...Jay...you have made a difference in our lives and for this we will be forever grateful. God be with you
Monday, April 7, 2008
Celebration of Life
There will be a Celebration of Life held at Excel Gymnastics on Sunday, April 13, 2008 at 2:00 PM.
John R. [Jay] Rivera
Jay Rivera died on March 25, 2008 in Big Lake, Alaska. He was 42 years of age.
Born on October 12, 1965 to Paul R. and Barbara A. Rivera, Jay was a long-time resident of Columbia, Maryland, who attended Phelps Luck Elementary School, Ellicott City Middle School, and graduated from Howard High School in 1983.
A life-long athlete, he was a four-year member of the Columbia Comets, the Soccer Association of Columbia select team which won the Maryland State Soccer Championship on two occasions in the late 1970s. Turning his attention to gymnastics, Jay was a member of the competitive team of Gymnastics Plus of Columbia; there he won two individual all-around Maryland State Championships, finished second at the 1980 National Junior Olympics, and won the vault competition at the 1983 National Boys’ Invitational. In 1981, he was named Outstanding Youth Athlete by the Maryland branch of the Amateur Athletic Union.
Jay attended the University of Illinois, Chicago from 1983-1988 competing for the university’s NCAA Men’s Gymnastics Team. He served as UIC team captain and held the university’s record for highest all-around score for nearly two decades.
He served with honor as a paratrooper in the 82nd Airborne Division in Panama in 1990-1991. Upon discharge from the Army, he pursued a career as a gymnastics instructor and competitive team coach for programs at Gymnastics Plus, Rebounders, MarVaTeens and Gymstrada in Maryland and Virginia. He earned a reputation as an outstanding coach and a well-regarded judge at USGF-sanctioned competitions.
In recent years, Jay moved to Alaska where he taught and coached at Denali Gymnastics and Excel Gymnastics in the Anchorage area. Coach Jay, as he was called by the members of his last competitive team at Excel Gymnastics, led his Class Four Boys team to the Alaska State Championship on the weekend before his death. The outpouring of love and support from the children and parents of his last team attest to his excellence as a teacher.
Jay’s passing is mourned by his beloved son, J.R. Rivera, and J.R.’s mother, Sandra of Texas; his father and step-mother, Paul and Lilianne Rivera of Florida; his sisters, Pam Rivera of Virginia, and Meg Carter of Georgia; his step-sister, Kristin Kapfer of Maryland; his step-brother, Todd Waddell of Oregon; and by nine nieces and nephews in Italy, Arizona, Maryland, Georgia and Oregon.
Private funeral services will be held in Texas on April 18, 2008.
Posted by Pamela
Born on October 12, 1965 to Paul R. and Barbara A. Rivera, Jay was a long-time resident of Columbia, Maryland, who attended Phelps Luck Elementary School, Ellicott City Middle School, and graduated from Howard High School in 1983.
A life-long athlete, he was a four-year member of the Columbia Comets, the Soccer Association of Columbia select team which won the Maryland State Soccer Championship on two occasions in the late 1970s. Turning his attention to gymnastics, Jay was a member of the competitive team of Gymnastics Plus of Columbia; there he won two individual all-around Maryland State Championships, finished second at the 1980 National Junior Olympics, and won the vault competition at the 1983 National Boys’ Invitational. In 1981, he was named Outstanding Youth Athlete by the Maryland branch of the Amateur Athletic Union.
Jay attended the University of Illinois, Chicago from 1983-1988 competing for the university’s NCAA Men’s Gymnastics Team. He served as UIC team captain and held the university’s record for highest all-around score for nearly two decades.
He served with honor as a paratrooper in the 82nd Airborne Division in Panama in 1990-1991. Upon discharge from the Army, he pursued a career as a gymnastics instructor and competitive team coach for programs at Gymnastics Plus, Rebounders, MarVaTeens and Gymstrada in Maryland and Virginia. He earned a reputation as an outstanding coach and a well-regarded judge at USGF-sanctioned competitions.
In recent years, Jay moved to Alaska where he taught and coached at Denali Gymnastics and Excel Gymnastics in the Anchorage area. Coach Jay, as he was called by the members of his last competitive team at Excel Gymnastics, led his Class Four Boys team to the Alaska State Championship on the weekend before his death. The outpouring of love and support from the children and parents of his last team attest to his excellence as a teacher.
Jay’s passing is mourned by his beloved son, J.R. Rivera, and J.R.’s mother, Sandra of Texas; his father and step-mother, Paul and Lilianne Rivera of Florida; his sisters, Pam Rivera of Virginia, and Meg Carter of Georgia; his step-sister, Kristin Kapfer of Maryland; his step-brother, Todd Waddell of Oregon; and by nine nieces and nephews in Italy, Arizona, Maryland, Georgia and Oregon.
Private funeral services will be held in Texas on April 18, 2008.
Posted by Pamela
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Positive Grief
So many people loved Jay Rivera. Of all the many humbling experiences of my life, being on the receiving end of so many heartfelt questions and messages in his behalf, has to be tops. I am sure that he never dreamed that he had touched so many lives in such positive ways. It was always easier somehow for him to focus on his faults, and discount his virtues.
This Sunday, as the giant snow flakes fell in Alaska and I quietly wondered if this winter is ever going to end, I sought my own comfort. I have been working my way through Book 8 of the 22 volumes of the Zohar for the past year. It is a daunting enterprise and you never know what is going to leap out at you and into your life. Imagine my surprise when today's offering was specifically about grief?
What, I wondered, can this ancient Hebrew text tell me about grief that I haven't heard or experienced already? Plenty.
When we "cry" to God, we are using words, speaking words in prayer, but when we "wail" we go beyond words, into the silent realm where God comes closest to us, and the pain in our hearts tells all. No words required. No poetry. No songs. Just the ache and the tears are more powerful than all the other forms of prayer. The pain in a small child's heart because her coach is no longer here, is mighty in the realm of God.
What a concept. God doesn't need ears. And we don't need words. Our feelings are what matter.
Even more surprising, there is such a thing as positive grief! Unconsciously, I was touching on that in my last blog. Negative grief is when you let the darkness win, count Jay's life as a loss, get depressed and cynical, think that there is nothing you can do. Positive grief is when you open up and kick the darkness in the butt.
Remember Jay. Pray for him in your heart, without words. Let your feelings roll--your grief, your joy, everything you feel. All of it. Give it to God.
Then, choose what you, personally, are going to do. I have my communion with Jay each day as I clean the house, affirming his joy in cleanliness and order, bringing more of that into the world. Each one of us can find him in our hearts and do something positive for his sake on an ongoing basis. Funeral flowers aren't in it. Once-in-a-lifetime-and-good-bye won't do it. Coming up with a silly joke each day is more like it. It takes grit and determination to convert grief into something positive, but it is what we need to do.
I was on the road of compassion a long time before I knew Jay, but I almost let fear and social conventions stand in the way of caring about and trying to help him. I know now, for sure, that nothing should stand in our way. Next time I see someone struggling with alcohol, I won't hide. Next time I see a teenager in trouble with it, it's going to be Jay Rivera's hand on his neck as much as mine.
Take all those words you wished you had said to Jay, all the good deeds that didn't happen, and guess what? There'll be an occasion when those words are needed again, and the good deeds, too. So, forget your regrets. Say the words and do the deeds. Make the grief positive. There are many ways to turn misery on its head. Let's do it!
This Sunday, as the giant snow flakes fell in Alaska and I quietly wondered if this winter is ever going to end, I sought my own comfort. I have been working my way through Book 8 of the 22 volumes of the Zohar for the past year. It is a daunting enterprise and you never know what is going to leap out at you and into your life. Imagine my surprise when today's offering was specifically about grief?
What, I wondered, can this ancient Hebrew text tell me about grief that I haven't heard or experienced already? Plenty.
When we "cry" to God, we are using words, speaking words in prayer, but when we "wail" we go beyond words, into the silent realm where God comes closest to us, and the pain in our hearts tells all. No words required. No poetry. No songs. Just the ache and the tears are more powerful than all the other forms of prayer. The pain in a small child's heart because her coach is no longer here, is mighty in the realm of God.
What a concept. God doesn't need ears. And we don't need words. Our feelings are what matter.
Even more surprising, there is such a thing as positive grief! Unconsciously, I was touching on that in my last blog. Negative grief is when you let the darkness win, count Jay's life as a loss, get depressed and cynical, think that there is nothing you can do. Positive grief is when you open up and kick the darkness in the butt.
Remember Jay. Pray for him in your heart, without words. Let your feelings roll--your grief, your joy, everything you feel. All of it. Give it to God.
Then, choose what you, personally, are going to do. I have my communion with Jay each day as I clean the house, affirming his joy in cleanliness and order, bringing more of that into the world. Each one of us can find him in our hearts and do something positive for his sake on an ongoing basis. Funeral flowers aren't in it. Once-in-a-lifetime-and-good-bye won't do it. Coming up with a silly joke each day is more like it. It takes grit and determination to convert grief into something positive, but it is what we need to do.
I was on the road of compassion a long time before I knew Jay, but I almost let fear and social conventions stand in the way of caring about and trying to help him. I know now, for sure, that nothing should stand in our way. Next time I see someone struggling with alcohol, I won't hide. Next time I see a teenager in trouble with it, it's going to be Jay Rivera's hand on his neck as much as mine.
Take all those words you wished you had said to Jay, all the good deeds that didn't happen, and guess what? There'll be an occasion when those words are needed again, and the good deeds, too. So, forget your regrets. Say the words and do the deeds. Make the grief positive. There are many ways to turn misery on its head. Let's do it!
The unexpected is always upon us...
Jay unexpectedly walked into Fairfax Gymnastics (in Northern Virginia) in the spring of 2000, looking for a coaching job. After a few weeks of wondering "where did this guy come from and why would he want to coach here?", we were told that he was here to stay and we were counting our lucky stars. He spent two years creating a wonderful program and shaping the future gymnastic careers of this young team, including my son Zachary's. In the summer of 2001, we welcomed him into our home, and into our hearts. He needed a place to stay, and as the owner of the gym said to me, " he needed someone to keep him out of trouble." For those of you who knew him well, you know that being Jay's "protector"was an impossible and foolish task, but one that many of us easily fell into with naive ambition and dedication. We had a wonderful summer. Jay's son spent most of the summer with us as well and my two son's became three...(then four if you count Jay!) After gym practice, we spent hours at the pool, swimming, playing volleyball, tennis, and diving (boy was he good at that!). Jay had a natural talent for just about every sport (except golf!... he must be laughing right now) He was a master ping-pong player. My older son Stephen joined the diving team, the tennis team, still plays volleyball and actually beat Jay ONCE or TWICE in a game of ping-pong. JR and Stephen learned to play chess with Jay's coaching. Of course Zachary loved gymnastics! He admired Jay so much, and focused hard on listening and learning from him. I watched this amazing man share his passion for life with his son and our boys. He really was a gifted teacher. He had a mind for details and artistry and an exhuberance that was contageous. A big kid at heart, he was happiest when he was teaching and sharing what he knew.
His jokes were so silly! His personality was infectious, and he loved to be outdoors. We often went to Great Falls to climb the rocks and watch the hawks soar. His favorite place in our home was on the back deck, where he could look over the yard and trees, and play his boombox. He was really into music and we spent many nights listening and talking about music and beyond... We bought an oversized umbrella so we could sit in the rain and stay relatively dry. Being the "neatnik" that he was, he reorganized the deck furniture and put all my flower planters and pots in one corner, where they will always remain. We have so many happy memories of that summer...
Jay found a place to live near the gym and moved out in late September. He coached the team through another successful season, but by the spring of 2002, he had lost his coaching job and his self-respect to alchoholism. I had failed terribly at being "The Protector". He desperately needed help battling his addiction, and my husband and I realized that we could no longer help him. We got him on a waiting list for a residential treatment program called New Beginnings and he entered the program in June. It was a 3 month detox program that was designed to help him rebuild his self-esteem, and give him tools that he could use to take control of his life. My husband and I met with the counselors several times during his stay and would bring him care packages and lots of encouragement. He graduated with "flying colors" and completed the program in 10 weeks...
His demons were greater than all the love he found in his life. He struggled with pain that none of us could understand, and as much as he loved us all...he could not accept that love for himself. He never took control of his life, he never overcame his addictions. He worked so hard to re-established himself as a coach, over and over again, only to lose it and have to start over. In the end his well ran dry. He couldn't find the strength and courage to live through another cycle of losing what he loved. He was done with rehab, he was done with starting over, he was tired of proving himself , he was tired of hurting the people he loved, he was tired of starting another chapter that would ultimately end in another mess.... "I'm done" he said.
He taught my family about forgiveness, about not judging others, how to pick yourself up when you're down, how to focus hard, and never stop trying. He showed us that nothing is black and white. "Don't be a Knucklehead", "Point your toes", "Practice, Practice, Practice!", "Visualize"...and above all else love yourself.
The picture I posted is my favorite picture of Jay. He is confident, content and happy, with his buddy Zach. I know he is at peace. That is how I will always remember him.
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Thursday, April 3, 2008
You'll always be a part of us...
Coach Jay,
There are so many things I wish we could have said. So many ways we could have shown how much you meant to us. Although we did not know you on a personal level, you have impacted our family. The first time you approached us about letting Bradley try the team, we laughed and tried to convince you that we had a busy schedule and gymnastics wasn't a priority. You were persistent and convincing. At times, even offering to "foot the bill". When we finally decided to try it temporarily, you told me that we would not only see his gymnastic skills improve drastically, but his math and english skills as well! (You forgot to mention the joke-telling and practical joke skills he would master - and he did!)
Bradley was hooked from day one. He thought you were a hero and still wants to be a gymnast like you. I was pleased when he came home talking about the proper etiquette during a meet and how to be a good sport. After only 3 short months with you he has learned more than we ever thought possible. Unfortunately, he has learned a really difficult lesson as well. The most difficult he has ever had to face. Bradley prayed for you often before you died. I will always remember the Valentine he made for you in Sunday School that said "God loves you and so do I".
I wish you were here to answer some of his questions. I am so sorry that we didn't take the time to get to know you on a more personal level. It may not have helped your sadness, but it may have helped us to understand better.
Anna is so accurate about the stages of grief we have experienced. Initially, we were shocked beyond belief. There was a time I wanted to grab a hold of you and ring your neck! After learning more about you personally and what you have been through, I am rid of the anger and so sad and sorry for all you have been through.
You have changed our lives. I'm certain, had it not been for your persistence, we would still be happily going to our little, one hour-a-week gymnastics class to get a bit of exercise. You have put a passion in our son that will not soon die and I thank you for that. (And maybe, someday, someone will get him to keep his tongue in his mouth!)
There are so many things I wish we could have said. So many ways we could have shown how much you meant to us. Although we did not know you on a personal level, you have impacted our family. The first time you approached us about letting Bradley try the team, we laughed and tried to convince you that we had a busy schedule and gymnastics wasn't a priority. You were persistent and convincing. At times, even offering to "foot the bill". When we finally decided to try it temporarily, you told me that we would not only see his gymnastic skills improve drastically, but his math and english skills as well! (You forgot to mention the joke-telling and practical joke skills he would master - and he did!)
Bradley was hooked from day one. He thought you were a hero and still wants to be a gymnast like you. I was pleased when he came home talking about the proper etiquette during a meet and how to be a good sport. After only 3 short months with you he has learned more than we ever thought possible. Unfortunately, he has learned a really difficult lesson as well. The most difficult he has ever had to face. Bradley prayed for you often before you died. I will always remember the Valentine he made for you in Sunday School that said "God loves you and so do I".
I wish you were here to answer some of his questions. I am so sorry that we didn't take the time to get to know you on a more personal level. It may not have helped your sadness, but it may have helped us to understand better.
Anna is so accurate about the stages of grief we have experienced. Initially, we were shocked beyond belief. There was a time I wanted to grab a hold of you and ring your neck! After learning more about you personally and what you have been through, I am rid of the anger and so sad and sorry for all you have been through.
You have changed our lives. I'm certain, had it not been for your persistence, we would still be happily going to our little, one hour-a-week gymnastics class to get a bit of exercise. You have put a passion in our son that will not soon die and I thank you for that. (And maybe, someday, someone will get him to keep his tongue in his mouth!)
How To Find Words
There are so many things I am thankful for that Coach Jay brought into our lives. I am so thankful that he supported the hard work, discipline, and toughness that my husband and I have tried to instill in our children. I am thankful for how he gave me confidence as a coach, I found I really did remember things correctly after so many years. I loved how when I asked him a question about coaching he knew the answer without a shadow of a doubt. I knew it wasn't just his opinion or something he saw once. HE KNEW. He always treated me with full respect and didn't just listen, but built me up as a coach. I will miss so much him just being there to bounce ideas off of. What a hole he has left. He said he wasn't worried about anything else in level 5 for my son but his goofy round-off. He said, "How are we going to connect tumbling to that?!?!" All our children's accomplishments are such milestones to us and I hate that he won't see that silly round-off fixed, that he won't see the "Girl Watcher" have his first meet, won't see Brady win state in level 5, isn't here to help Brady S. find a new gym in Tennessee, to help Toni and Riley pick out their optional skills, watch Sydney and Hailey sail through level 5, watch Megan work so hard to get her kip, and so many more. I hate that our children got the last year of his life instead of his own child, I will say many prayers for JR and hope you all will join me. I am so thankful for my husband and family. I wish so badly that he could have relationships where he felt unconditional love and could have learned to love himself. I hope that through this we will allow ourselves to learn the lessons to be learned. One person to draw closer to God. One person to see how much they are loved and tell someone else how much they love them. One family to be saved and stick together. We miss you Coach Jay and I hope it's not to late to say that we all loved you, and still love you, unconditionally.
The Davidson Half Dozen
The Davidson Half Dozen Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Grateful
I, too, have been circling in that same spiral that Anna mentioned. What I always come back to is, simply...
Jay, I wish you were still here. I hope you know how much you are loved and what a hole you have left behind. I am grateful for every moment you spent with my kids and all the things that you taught them. I will treasure the endearing memories that I have of you with all of the kids.
I am so grateful that Robert saw the good in you and provided us here in Palmer, Alaska such a rare opportunity to learn from a talented coach, gymnast, and athlete. Despite all the pain and confusion your death has caused, the times that our lives intertwined made it worthwhile.
You were ripped from our lives so suddenly causing me to see that the man who I thought was merely my children's gymnastics coach had become a dear friend with a permanent place in our hearts.
God is merciful and compassionate and I pray that He rewards your every good and forgives your every wrong. I hope that you have found the sweetest peace that you so desperately wanted. May your memory be eternal.
With love,
Lisa Catlett
Jay, I wish you were still here. I hope you know how much you are loved and what a hole you have left behind. I am grateful for every moment you spent with my kids and all the things that you taught them. I will treasure the endearing memories that I have of you with all of the kids.
I am so grateful that Robert saw the good in you and provided us here in Palmer, Alaska such a rare opportunity to learn from a talented coach, gymnast, and athlete. Despite all the pain and confusion your death has caused, the times that our lives intertwined made it worthwhile.
You were ripped from our lives so suddenly causing me to see that the man who I thought was merely my children's gymnastics coach had become a dear friend with a permanent place in our hearts.
God is merciful and compassionate and I pray that He rewards your every good and forgives your every wrong. I hope that you have found the sweetest peace that you so desperately wanted. May your memory be eternal.
With love,
Lisa Catlett
WOW! Well I am so thankful that we have this site to write our feelings out on and that we have each others feelings to read whenever we feel like we just need something good to think about in such a horrific situation. So with that said...... Tonight is the first time that we will be going to "gymnastics PRACTICE" (Jay was very clear that this is not a class but it is a Team and it is PRACTICE) So I am a little nervous however I have been at the gym a lot this week but not to sit on the side and watch the boys workout! I know that it will be fine however there will be a huge hole and I just pray that I will make it without tears. I know that I can. Ethan has been talking about Jay lately and it is really humbling to hear his thoughts. As I have said before if I could just think that simple. SO I will be reading this blog a lot and I look forward to hearing how everyone else feels tonight and how the boys do!
Heather
Heather
Going On
This past week since Jay's death has been very busy, internally and externally. As we struggle to communicate what is important with each other and to deal with all the external realities, we also have much inner work to do. This is not the first time I have faced death and grief, and yet, it is both always the same and always unique. The neatly organized path through the grieving process has been mapped out for many years, reduced to "stages" and for those capable of such detachment, we can check off the mileposts---"Ah, yes, there's my denial....followed by my guilt....followed by my anger....followed by my acceptance....followed by peace...."
Knowing all this empiric information is of startlingly little help, only a faint comfort in that we can say, yes, we are making progress. It may not feel like it, but, the mileposts tell us that we are. In my own oddball way of dealing with loss, I've scattergunned through all the emotions at lightspeed and circled back for at least a dozen rounds, touring through them all---denial, guilt, anger, acceptance and peace---again and again, until finally, the wheel stops spinning.
There are so many things I wish I had told Jay, so many topics for conversations that might have helped, so many times when I was too tired and wrapped up in my own life to help him as much as I could have. Guilt is easy to find, all the could haves, should haves, and ifs. But in the end, it is what it is, we did what we did, gave what we could. And that has to be enough.
Slowly, other things come into view, a larger picture---one that we never entirely lose sight of --the realization that the people and things that Jay cared about are still here with us. There is his family to think about. What comfort can we offer them? There is the whole program at Excel Gymnastics. What can we do to support it?
Jay Rivera shone a bright light on the world, in spite of the great darkness that haunted his personal life. How can we, his family and friends and students---retain and reflect that light, so that it lives on for many years to come?
I find myself keeping a very clean and orderly house. I wasn't a slob before I knew Jay, but forever after, I will be thinking of him as I dust and pick up candy wrappers and straighten things up. Having a clean and orderly environment was so important to him. Kids? This is something you can do---keep your room at home clean and keep the gym clean. Think of Coach Jay as you are doing it, and the blessing of his life will be increased through you.
As he said time after time and day after day, "It's so simple!!!"
Take the ten extra steps to throw away that wad of tape, that candy wrapper, that piece of old chewing gum. Put your dirty gym socks in the laundry bag. Hang up your coat. Don't leave your boots in the middle of the floor where everyone is walking. Wash your hands. Put things back where you find them, instead of leaving them cluttered around.
Does this sound familiar? It should.
If you become a cleaner and better organized person because of Coach Jay's example, the effort you make will improve your life. It will also honor him.
During the last months of his life, Jay studied Kabbalah with me. Kabbalah is an ancient Jewish interpretation of the Bible, which provides instruction on how to live a good life. When I told our Kabbalah instructor about Jay's death, he assured me that whenever we make such efforts to remember Jay with our actions and make good changes in our lives for his sake, his soul is blessed anew.
Let's bless his soul a whole bunch this week---every time we sweep the floor, throw our dirty clothes in a hamper, take out the trash, wash the dishes---think of him and smile.
Knowing all this empiric information is of startlingly little help, only a faint comfort in that we can say, yes, we are making progress. It may not feel like it, but, the mileposts tell us that we are. In my own oddball way of dealing with loss, I've scattergunned through all the emotions at lightspeed and circled back for at least a dozen rounds, touring through them all---denial, guilt, anger, acceptance and peace---again and again, until finally, the wheel stops spinning.
There are so many things I wish I had told Jay, so many topics for conversations that might have helped, so many times when I was too tired and wrapped up in my own life to help him as much as I could have. Guilt is easy to find, all the could haves, should haves, and ifs. But in the end, it is what it is, we did what we did, gave what we could. And that has to be enough.
Slowly, other things come into view, a larger picture---one that we never entirely lose sight of --the realization that the people and things that Jay cared about are still here with us. There is his family to think about. What comfort can we offer them? There is the whole program at Excel Gymnastics. What can we do to support it?
Jay Rivera shone a bright light on the world, in spite of the great darkness that haunted his personal life. How can we, his family and friends and students---retain and reflect that light, so that it lives on for many years to come?
I find myself keeping a very clean and orderly house. I wasn't a slob before I knew Jay, but forever after, I will be thinking of him as I dust and pick up candy wrappers and straighten things up. Having a clean and orderly environment was so important to him. Kids? This is something you can do---keep your room at home clean and keep the gym clean. Think of Coach Jay as you are doing it, and the blessing of his life will be increased through you.
As he said time after time and day after day, "It's so simple!!!"
Take the ten extra steps to throw away that wad of tape, that candy wrapper, that piece of old chewing gum. Put your dirty gym socks in the laundry bag. Hang up your coat. Don't leave your boots in the middle of the floor where everyone is walking. Wash your hands. Put things back where you find them, instead of leaving them cluttered around.
Does this sound familiar? It should.
If you become a cleaner and better organized person because of Coach Jay's example, the effort you make will improve your life. It will also honor him.
During the last months of his life, Jay studied Kabbalah with me. Kabbalah is an ancient Jewish interpretation of the Bible, which provides instruction on how to live a good life. When I told our Kabbalah instructor about Jay's death, he assured me that whenever we make such efforts to remember Jay with our actions and make good changes in our lives for his sake, his soul is blessed anew.
Let's bless his soul a whole bunch this week---every time we sweep the floor, throw our dirty clothes in a hamper, take out the trash, wash the dishes---think of him and smile.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
ADN post - Anna von Reitz
To all the children and teenagers Jay Rivera taught, all those kids who have called or written to me searching for answers---please, listen with your hearts.
Coach Jay was all about joy when he was with you, even when he corrected your mistakes. Take that joy into your heart. Smile. Honor his joy in gymnastics and his faith in you.
Appreciate who you really are, and all that you can be and do. He did.
His life stands as an example to you all in many ways--the kindness of his heart and his dedication as a teacher shines bright in your lives, but you also know now, because of him, how important it is to avoid alcohol.
Learn that last lesson for Coach Jay.
High fives for the rest of your lives!
Anna von Reitz
ADN post
My name is Dimitri (NIF) and I competed with Jay(John) Rivera in college on the UIC gymnastics team. I would like to say that Jay was a true friend and a person that was real. Jay had his share of problems that were at times unbearable for him but he always tried to get on track and make things right! Jay and I had always respected each other and never did I feel threatened by his addictions or demons. I will always remember you Jay and the competitive spirit you instilled in me during our college years. May you rest in peace
NIF
ADN post - Anna von Reitz
More What Happened to Jay Rivera
Anyone who has a sincere interest in what happened at my home on Tuesday has only to read my comment: Number 21--What Happened to Jay Rivera. This is a follow up.
Remember, folks, that the greatest angels are always assailed by the worst demons.
The news media on this was very inept, perhaps because all this happened after 3 p.m. in the afternoon. There were misquotes and mistakes and a lot of fumbles, which just added to the pain.
For example, Jay was NOT on welfare. The phrase "welfare check" means that the troopers came to check on his welfare.
Jay never fired at the police. He fired at the ground, but the police had to assume that at any second he might fire at them or at someone else, therefore, they had to take him down. Which is what he wanted.
I personally wish that we all had had the foresight and good sense to equip and train our law enforcement units in humane capture methods. This is not the first time in history that this situation has arisen. We should have better answers. We use dart guns on wounded lions.
That said, I was there, and to the best of my knowledge, Jay Rivera knew what he was doing, and he willfully chose this outcome.
I have problems with it, because I always choose life and Jay chose death. Most people from the Judeo-Christian tradition will feel that way, but when I think about it, many cultures have seen it otherwise. The Japanese, for example, practiced hari-kari into the 20th century. The ancient Romans. Modern Buddhists.
It shouldn't seem so strange or inexplicable in the whole context of human experience. It's just that we loved the man so much, that it is hard to understand how he could lose all hope, how such a buoyant spirit could plunge to such depths of pain. That's the scary part. How could he not love himself, when so many other people did?
Jay spent 550 days at my kitchen table. That's more than enough time to discuss a great many things. We discussed death quite a bit after his December 2006 suicide attempt. He viewed death as "an option", in his words, much as a Roman general or a Samurai would.
And the reasons for it in his mind were much the same--dishonor. Dishonor to himself and dishonor to his sport.
Although many people in the sport of gymnastics knew about his problems with alcohol, the idea of being publically sanctioned and not allowed to take part in competitive coaching brought it home to him.
My husband was misquoted in the Daily News article. Jay wasn't suicidal "all day". He got up that morning in a very cheerful and happy mood. He scuttled about running errands. At noon, we went suntanning. The only thing that wasn't right, was that he was wearing a red t-shirt and a red baseball cap. And he never wore red.
I should have known somehow that he was making himself a good target, but I didn't. I should have remembered from "Shogun", that the Japanese traditionally smile as the knife sinks in and their honor is restored. I surely knew that Roman generals gave away coins to the poor and had a big party before they fell on their swords.
But I, and most of you, come from a different tradition, a Judeo-Christian tradition that values life almost above all else, and we have grown up with only a passing nod for "honor". Jay was different in that respect, maybe because in the throes of his addiction, he so often did and said things he sincerely regretted. He told me that he "deserved" to be red flagged and sanctioned as a coach under the new USGA rules and I know he contemplated that self-evaluation deeply.
Why did Jay do this? Maybe because he could not, in his own mind, ever do anything that would restore his honor and allow him to coach competitively again. And that was what gave meaning to his life. The USGA didn't publish any terms or conditions by which a coach who had been "red flagged" could redeem himself. I think they should have.
I think they still should, even though it is too late for Jay.
Human values are a tricky thing. They invite all sorts of judgements that we wind up regretting in the end. When we walk a mile in the other person's moccasins the world looks so much different.
All Jay's mistakes, all his bad choices, all his fears, all his miseries, we share in one way or another. We've seen them all before, in ourselves or someone else. There's no reason for finger-pointing or self-righteousness or blame. There's nothing here to comment on, if it can't be commented on with love, because any arrow of condemnation or fault that can be aimed at Jay Rivera comes home to our shared human heart.
Why not say a prayer? Just a simple blessing on a life that is over and a man who did much good despite his addiction to alcohol.
And why not get on the USGA and at least debate the idea of a redemption clause? Some way that a man like Jay could win back his credentials?
Anna von Reitz
ADN post
I just want to thank everyone for sharing their stories about "Coach Jay" I really think that this has helped me in my healing process. If only I could think as simple as my child.... "I am not too sad because I can still talk to Coach Jay because I can just pray and talk to him." That really is so simple and that is how I will get through all of this... He was sick and hurting and although so many of us are wondering what more we could have done just keep close to your heart that he is not hurting anymore and that he is still with us in our hearts.... What I would do to hear him call my son a "girl watcher" one last time.... Miss you coach!
ADN post - Charlie Kowalski
My name is Charlie Kowalski and I have known Jay for about 20 years. I first met him when he was an assistant coach at the gymnastics club in Maryland I was training at in high school. Later on, I was his assistant coach at another club. We worked together for two years. We both moved on to other coaching jobs but stayed in contact and remained friends.
I would have to say that working with Jay coaching the boy's team was an altogether pleasant experience. He was always joking and keeping the kids laughing, but at the same time giving them the workout that they needed to get better. He took his job very seriously and loved the sport of gymnastics. Most of what I learned about how to coach, I first learned from Jay Rivera. I still coach and I still use some of his workout plans and some of the games he used to make the practices fun for the boys.
Jay was very competitive on the competition floor. Whenever my team would go up against his team, we knew we would have a tough battle that day with his guys. We were competitive with each other, but always with mutual respect.
I have also watched Jay struggle in his personal life, especially with alcoholism. I tried many times to persuade him, as I know many other people have, to change his habits, but it was not to be.
Jay's tragic end is a heavy blow to my heart. I feel the loss of a mentor and of a friend. I will always remember him for how much he gave of himself to the kids and to the sport.
May God's blessings be with you Jay.
ADN post
I feel very, very bad for the children. I wish there was something I could do to take the pain away from all of you. I will always be here.
ADN post
I am a parent of a son who was coached by Jay Rivera just prior to his move to Alaska. The worst thing I had to do was share the story with my son. His move to Alaska was forced by the disease that plagued him. He left a wonderful letter to my son that I was to give later on but I was hoping Jay could say it to him, unfortunately that will not happen. I was glad that I was able to give it to him, perhaps it eased his pain. My son always expected to see "his coach" again. Jay was a coach that will always live in my son's heart. I hope his soul has rest now as it never did in life. I knew he was tortured as well but I always hoped he could find peace. There were times he appeared to but never completely. Gymnastics was what he was and if he felt that was threatened, I could see his fear.
ADN post
No matter what Coach did outside of the gym he was and will always be a HERO inside the gym. He was a great postitive, fun, caring man and always pushed the kids to try their BEST! He had a massive impact on me my child and my entire family! He will forever be missed!
ADN post - Anna von Reitz
For those who missed my blog earlier today, I am Anna von Reitz. Jay Rivera lived with me and my family for two years and he died in my front yard two days ago. If anyone outside his family knew him, we did, and we loved him dearly.
His suffering has lessons for us all. He was addicted to alcohol for many years, which led to great loss and suffering and ultimately, to his death.
What happened Tuesday afternoon began many years ago. He once told me that he didn't have a chance to know himself, because he began drinking so early in his life.
Jay was a sensitive and deeply caring man, a superb coach, and a wonderful athlete.
I know, because I was there, that he never aimed the gun at me or my husband or the police. It was never his intention to hurt anyone but himself.
I know, because I got down on my knees and begged him to put the gun aside, that it was his firm intention to die on Tuesday. My husband tried to reason with him too. We tried all the things that anyone could say to stop him, pouring out our hearts with all the reasons why he should stay and have a good life.
And he listened, but he also replied. He told us that he was tired of his long struggle and wanted it to be over. He was tired of fighting his addiction and saw no end of it in sight. In spite of his best efforts, nothing seemed to work. He had been in and out of so many rehab programs and processes, and still, he was addicted.
Every night when he came home from work, he had to face his demons again. Sometimes he won. More often he lost.
As I was struggling with him, he turned and looked me in the eye, and with no hesitation at all, said, "I'm done. It's over. This has to be done."
And then he said, "I am sorry I am putting you through this, but I can't go on---I can't."
He stood looking at me as though that should be self-evident and as if I should let him go, but I couldn't. I stayed, and out of consideration for my feelings, he waited until the troopers came. Then he left the house and went outside, so that there was no damage to my home and no danger to me.
Alcohol cost Coach Jay everything he cared about. It cost him his deepest and closest family ties. His marriage ended in divorce. His only son had to live without him. No other pain in his life hurt him more than this separation.
Recently, USGA, the United States Gymnastics Association began a program to do background checks on coaches and impose sanctions, including the loss of competitive coaching credentials. Although he hadn't yet been "red flagged", he was convinced that it would happen because of his history of alcoholism and a string of related misdemeanors.
He was unable to change the past, unable to envision a future without gymnastics, and had no faith in his ability to beat the addiction.
Jay loved every one of his friends and family. He loved the snow capped mountains and the green leaves on the trees. He loved everyone and everything but himself and the cruel addiction that was ruining his life. He called it slow suicide.
To the officer who shot him, please be comforted. In Jay's view, you helped him end a terrible and long-suffering struggle. You couldn't know what danger you were facing, but Jay knew what he was doing, and understood your obligation to act.
To the parents and students he leaves behind, please understand how very much he cared, and how long and how hard his personal battle was.
To his hundreds of friends across the country, please remember his joyous spirit, and the love and caring he so freely gave to each of us.
To his family, we can only say that you have our deepest and most heartfelt sympathy. We, too, are crying. We too are asking ourselves what more could we do, just like you.
Jay loved living here with us, and he often said so. It is a cheerful place, out in the country, with a large lawn and gardens. He shared my joy in all the outdoor activities and looked forward to this time of year when we started the new seedlings for the garden. Caring for the plants was a reflection of the caring and nurturing he gave his students, too, a testament to his loving heart.
He applied the same care and consideration to Kovacs, his Yellow Labrador Retriever. Kovacs came to him as a puppy, and he trained him up to be the wonderful dog he is today. They were always best buddies.
Jay died a stone's throw away from the flower garden he helped me build last summer. I intend to find a small bronze statue of a gymnast and place it on a garden pedestal among the summer-blooming lilies he helped plant. In winter, I will tie a red velvet ribbon to the pedestal in memory of him. He will not be forgotten.
If his son, JR, wants to, we stand ready to welcome him here in Alaska. We would like to take him fishing and camping and do the things that Jay so wanted to do with his son. We can't make up for his loss, but we can pass on some of his love.
The same goes for his father and step-mother, his ex-wife, and his sisters and their families. We are all tied together by love. And love never dies.
Anyone else who loves Jay Rivera is welcome to call me at anytime.
The Kabbalists believe that we are never separated from those we love. The kindness of God mandates that we are together always, even in death. Please join me in remembering Jay Rivera kindly, and pray with me for his peace and for the healing of his gallant soul and for the comforting of his loved ones.
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