Stephen Michael
I’m named after my mom’s brother, Stephen Michael Lawlor, whom died of Aids in 1983. Throughout my life I have been given some of his things such as his class ring, art books, clothes, etc. Considering I have 17 cousins and get his things, I think my Grandmother sees a bunch of similarities between us and enjoys letting me have his possessions.
He was an artist who had moved to Philadelphia to pursue his painting and work for Philadelphia Magazine. I’ve always wished that I could meet him because I feel like he would be able to appreciate, more than anyone in my family, the path in which I’m trying to go down. A lot of my family are pretty straight laced and appear a bit conservative. I often feel like the obvious outcast, but that may be my own doing.
Despite never meeting my Uncle though, I am lucky to be able to sift through his belongings and try to piece together what kind of person he was.
My Grandmother is moving and has been giving away a lot of her belongings. While over her house for Thanksgiving I came across a box filled with his paintings and various letters. I had seen some of his work before and always really liked it, but this gave me a whole new perspective on his talent. I was slightly shocked and very proud of his work. It all really struck me.
I took 3 of the paintings along with a photograph he took of a woman in a tea shop. I think the photo may be of a woman named Anna, whom had written a bunch of letters to him which were also in the box.
Along with the paintings my Grandmother also gave me his yearbooks and a scrapbook someone had made of his accomplishments. It’s filled with articles recognizing his art along with a bunch of academic honors. He was even valedictorian of his high school and college graduating classes.
One of the most interesting things I found in this stuff was his old address in Philadelphia. Thanks to google maps, I was able to see how far it was from the venue I played at back in August. It’s exactly half a mile away and I remember being on the street exactly. It’s the very same street we parked my van and also where I had to change my shirt because a bird decided to shit on me. It’s weird to think that as I was walking around, I was so close to the old apartment of the exact person I am named after. I wish I had known and I would have walked there. Perhaps next time I am in Philly I will try and find it.





