A Year in Mourning: Coping with the Death of Jeffrey Epstein

Everyone remembers where they were on August 10th, 2019. People all over the world woke up to the soul-shocking news: Our best friend Jeffrey, was dead. I was in Washington, D.C. My head was still spinning from the absolute blowout of a pizza party I was invited to by some friends with big names I had made as a reporter in the area. Fun fact: Joe Biden asked me if I wanted to get ice cream with him and Nancy, but I was watching my diet and had already promised to get In-N-Out with my wife the next day.

The group-chat was shaken to its core. No more summer vacations, no more plane rides, no more playing dentist, no more Jeffrey. Despite some absolutely demented allegations, we had lost the star of our friend group to suicide.

I couldn’t help myself. I bawled.

And then came the hate mob.

For whatever reason, there were hundreds if not thousands, of people who absolutely could not stand Jeffrey Epstein. They made it their business to harass everyone who had been friends with him, even me.

The same people who harassed Jeffrey into hanging himself were now after the rest of us. I was so close to checking out myself. I had my wife, she kept me strong throughout this ordeal; but our dear friend, Ghislaine, had nobody. After months of harassment on her Reddit account, she took her life too.

We couldn’t believe it.

Thankfully, there were people who cared about Jeffrey out there too. We weren’t alone. On January 14th, Jeffrey’s fans the world over gathered on Little Saint James to honor his legacy. It was an extremely touching reuinion. My spirit was rejuvenated by the beach-side barbecue-style cooking. I smiled for the first time in months as I looked over at the crowd of people of all ages, genders, races, and religions gathered to pay homage to the man who had touched us all.

This was the path to recovery I so badly needed. Inspired by Jeffrey’s culinary favorites, I opened a Pizza parlor in my hometown of Climax, GA.

I still remember the drive back home after the celebration. My kids were so calm as we drove through the peach-tree fields, and as we reached Climax it was then I realized that I could be okay again. Jeffrey would still come with me wherever I went, in his own way. I glanced at my wife in the passenger’s seat and I spurted. Laughter came spewing from my lips, I was overjoyed. This chapter of our life had finally finished.

The months after were comfortable. PILLED began a company-wide paid hiatus until COVID-19 could be cured. I had pizza every day. I got to see the kids around town that I hadn’t gotten to see since moving up to D.C. On top of that, the toll the loss of Jeffrey had on me was lifted. I was a free man once again.

August 10th, 2020. I woke up to the smell of my wife’s cooking. My spirits were soaring. When I glanced at the date on my calendar, it hit me. It wasn’t as hard as it used to be, but for the first time in months, the crying coming from my bedroom was my own. Jeffrey had done so much for me, for all of us. I love that man. He touched so many people throughout his life. I don’t think I’ll ever stop missing you Jeffrey, but I’m at peace now, just like you.