I never formally meet DMX, but I feel like I knew him a little bit. A few years ago he moved to the same area I moved to 19 years ago, from New York as well, in Greenville, SC. Some said he lived in Simpsonville, SC and others said he had a house in Travelers Rest, SC. Wherever it was that he actually lived, I saw him on two occasions.
The first time was at Fall for Greenville, an annual fall street festival in town. The other was at the Greenville-Spartanburg International Airport where I used to work.
At Fall for Greenville, I walked right past him and a crowd of people. I believe this was right around the time when he first moved to the area, or at least when most people found out. He had a huge yellow snake and the crowd of people around him seemed to be more interested in the snake than in him. Maybe that's why I didn't realize it was him. He seemed to be enjoying the crowd regardless.
My encounter with him at the airport became a funny story that I have told probably over 100 times or more. I worked at the information counter and, at that time, the morning shift started at 5am. I was having a pretty rough morning (as usual) but it had been pretty quiet in the terminal so far. Then I heard this:
"Wassup OG, Triple OG?!"
My first reaction in my mind was "Who the hell is yelling in the terminal like a damn maniac this early in the morning?" When I looked up I saw that it was DMX, walking through the lobby headed up to the gate area for a flight. He threw up the deuce and I threw one back. He kept it moving. Later on in the early afternoon, I saw him coming back down the escalator. He didn't look happy. A little while later, one of the airport police officers came to the desk and told me that "Earl" had missed his flight and that he'd be back in the evening. I would later find out that he was headed to New York to shoot a scene for a movie, which ended up being Chris Rock's Top Five.
"Earl", as the airport police would often refer to him as, had an interesting relationship with the GSP airport and those of us who worked there. Something always happened when he flew out and it often ended up with some sort of police interaction, but nothing crazy. Most of the time it was due to him not having a drivers license. But everyone who'd had some sort of dealings with him at the airport loved him. One guy I knew, T, ended up being the person that DMX always called to get him checked in for almost every Delta flight to LaGuardia Airport he flew out on. T said X was always late and he would call on him because he knew everyone in the airport. My former boss ran into him a number of times but didn't really know who he was was. All she knew was that he was a rapper and that there was always something going on with him when he flew out. There are a lot of other stories like this from my days at GSP.
Maybe this is why his death affected me in a similar way the The Notorious B.I.G.'s death did. I had some sort of connection with him, too, even though it wasn't really a personal one. My connection to B.I.G. was that my brother worked for (((stereotype))), a small design firm that had worked on the cover art for his second and last album, Life After Death. I still remember the day when my brother came home telling me and the rest of my family that B.I.G. had been shot and killed in Los Angeles. I felt like someone I knew had died, even though I really didn't know him at all.
We've all heard the stories of DMX's trials and tribulations. Whenever I would hear of his struggles with addiction and his run-ins with the law, I always felt for the man, not the rapper/ actor. I wanted him to win. I wanted him to survive. When I saw his Verzuz battle with Snoop Dogg and noticed his weight gain I was shocked at first but he, somehow, looked healthy to me. He looked like he was different. I really thought he was finally making some headway through his struggles, trying to be better and getting the help he needed. When I heard the news of him being hospitalized, I wasn't surprised, but I was scared. I was scared he wasn't going to make it.
He didn't.
My oldest sister has always tried to drive home to me the importance of having some type of spiritual relationship with God. I grew up a Jehovah's Witness but left the organization in my late 20's. Once, she sent me a video of DMX doing one of his patented prayers at a show. I remember being truly amazed and I still get goosebumps thinking about it. Whenever I hear him pray, I can feel the pain and agony in his words and the conviction in his pleas. This man knew in his heart that God was the only being in the universe that could save him from his demons. I felt his faith and, at times wished I had a semblance of that kind of faith. I truly believe Earl Simmons was a messenger. That is what we lost when he transitioned from here. A one of one.
Preach Jacobs wrote an article on the late Earl Simmons and talked about his cries for help in his music. I felt that. In 2021 the idea of therapy, especially for Black men, is way more accepted than it was in the late 90's. I often wonder what therapy could have done for a young DMX back then and how it may have helped him as he grew older. Often when someone passes on, especially heralded celebrities, stories of their childhood tend to come out. I read a lot of those stories this week about X. Some of them I already knew, some I didn't. You hear about the people he trusted who failed to protect him. You hear about the story of him being first introduced to crack, unbeknownst to him, by a trusted friend who didn't tell him he'd laced a blunt with it. You hear about his abusive mother and how he roamed the streets at night, befriending stray dogs just to get away from the abuse. You wonder how he made it as long as he did. You wonder what a clean and sober Earl Simmons would have looked like and sounded like.
I wonder if the trajectory of his life was doomed from the start.
50 years of the life that DMX lived would have been hard on anyone. I look at the 41 years that I have lived and I am thankful the things I have struggled with have been somewhat manageable. I can't begin to imagine having battled the things DMX did from almost infancy. I'm not sure if I wouldn't have taken my life or if I wouldn't have ended up like him, maybe much earlier. Whatever caused his untimely death is irrelevant. The truth of the matter is he survived probably for as long as he could have under the circumstances. As tragic as his death is, it's somewhat remarkable that it didn't come earlier. I don't think his death impacts me the same way if he dies at, say, 35. DMX was 28 or 29 years old when he dropped his first album. That's already old in rap years. And yet, he left an indelible imprint over a short period of time that will stay with me forever. The life he led up to that, the hard life he was subjected to, has a lot to do with that.
I hope the world never forgets Earl "DMX" Simmons. I hope the generations growing up now comes to know him as more than the tragic figure he was portrayed as in the media and in the news. Was he a prophet? I don't know, but I know he was a vessel and a messenger from a higher source. How do you explain how he touched the hearts of so many with his words outside of his rap lyrics? Those prayers on stages and within his art speak of a divine connection. He knew who his savior was and he was begging to be rescued. I'd like to think his prayers have finally been answered.
It's just a shame that the world didn't give him his flowers before the gray hairs in his beard began to show. It's a shame we all didn't realize we were in the presence of a spiritual warrior. But some of us did.
I did.
I just wish he was still here. Better. Happy. Alive.
But I am glad he is now at peace.
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