Barbara Kimbley
Read this heart-breaking and yet heart-warming true story about my brother, Nickey who lived fast and died young at age 22. He was born in the South Bronx, lived on the lower East side streets, park benches and alleyways of Spanish Harlem, as a child. As a young adult, he lived in Wantagh and Levittown, Long Island with his sister .I was inspired to write this book because my brother was precious to me and I want to share his story. If you read my brother’s short life story and walk away with knowledge about A.I.D.S. and warmth in your heart then my brother, Nickey will live on in memory and his young life will be valued not only by me, but by many worldwide.
Barbara Kimbley resides in sunny Florida moving here in 1989 from Long Island, NY Born September 22,1958 in Manhattan, NY She is medically retired from a wonderful and rewarding career with J. C. Penneys. April 2000, she was diagnosed with a rare thyroid cancer. She is not in remission, just stable and guarded. She started writing about her cancer journey then decided to write about her brother’s short life story first. She is determined, persistent, resilient, diplomatic and has a strong will to live. Married to a devoted and loving husband, Richie (teenage sweethearts with a 31 year relationship). Her grown son, Rich Jr. is intelligent and charismatic, works in Public Relations and her wonderful daughter-in-law is a graphic designer. She has an older sister, Lana who she admires for overcoming her tragedies and struggles in life with dedication and fortitude. She has a passion for people, loves to travel, and enjoys playing Scrabble and reading self-help books. Among her many roles, she is a customer service manager, retail trainer, model, wife, mother, daughter, sister and broadcast journalist. She plans to share her personal cancer journey with you, her readers, in the near future.
A letter written, November 10, 1986 in Nickey’s own words…This is a message to the world-19 days before he died. He died November 29,1986.
I’m 22 years old and I caught a fatal disease. And I’m scared. I’m out of work I’m going to miss everybody I don’t know how long I have to live. And I hope everybody forgives me for what I did years ago.
I straightened my life 3 ½ years ago and now it is shot. I just have to live day by day.
My back is killing me, too. I had a piece of bone taken out of my back on Friday. My eyes are bloodshot.
I was shocked when I heard I had this disease. I felt like killing myself in the hospital. I was shocked. I had someone watching outside the door so I couldn’t kill myself.
I love my mother and I hope she doesn’t drink too much and I want her to do good. I hope she’ll be alright when I’m gone.
I love my sister Barbara and I love Richie. And, I love Richie Jr. They have been my family for the past several years.
I worked and I have a lot of good friends and I thank them for everything they’ve done for me while I was out of work and in the hospital-the cards and visits-candy, cookies, soda.
I love Andrea and I thank her for everything. I’m sorry I was so sick.
* * *
I used to drink and smoke and I quit then, I got sick. I started these two evils at a young age, about 12 years old.
My father was an alcoholic. He died at age 44 of cirrhosis of the liver.
I had a bad life coming from a bad home. I took to the streets at a young age. My security were my friends.
I quit school at age 13-finished grammar school and that’s the extent of my education.
I like to watch TV. I don’t read much-I guess cause I really don’t know how. I do pick up Newsday every now and then.
People call me “street-wise”. Nobody can pull anything over on me. I see right through them. After all, I grew up in lower Manhattan on the streets. I saw everything - everything from drugs, to robberies to murders. One day, my buddy and I were standing on a street corner and some guy came up to us, opened up his trench coat and blew my buddy away with a shotgun. I know people from all walks of life.
* * *
I’m a friendly person. I talk to people and I learn about them. At first, I can be shy but, once I know someone, I talk to them.
I used to be paranoid when I came to live on Long Island. I couldn’t believe the difference from the city to the Island. I walked to the deli in Wantagh, early in the evening and there were no people on the streets. It felt so strange. I’m used to people all over in the city at all times of day and night.
When I was a little boy, I wanted to grow up and be a garbage collector. At my job, I used to pick up garbage. I didn’t make much money but I did something I always wanted to do. It turned out, it really wasn’t for me- so, then I got a stock boy job.
In life, I could make something out of nothing. I could pick up a sewing machine, fix it and sell it and make a few bucks out of something that was thrown in the garbage.
