World War II veteran, landscaper, plant collector, family man, flea-market picker, and swing dancer who dazzled the club-goers of State Street into his 90th year, Gilbert Ramirez was many things to many people. To me, he was my neighbor and good friend.
In the four short years we knew each other, he came to serve as a hybrid between grandfather, with bits of wisdom hidden in his many stories, and drinking buddy, whose camaraderie brought bits of sunshine whenever he’d show up. He died while still full of life at age 90 last month after being hit by a car on State Street, on the way to another night of dancing at The James Joyce.
I first met Gil on the Saturday before Mother’s Day in 2014. I’d started seeing his occasional “Cycad Sale” signs when we moved into the Patterson Avenue neighborhood the summer before. Needing a last-minute gift, I stopped by with my son, then just 4 years old.
