Celebrating The Life of Nipsey Hussle
I have had a deep-standing relationship with the growth of Nipsey Hussle. A man that took the Crenshaw district under his wing and spread them far beyond the globe. Touching the lives of people who connected with his story and mindset. But for me, Nipsey Hussle turned out to be an example of how life creates a full circle moment just to wake you up once in a while. I discovered his music through friends. A rapper that showed grit and determination, bringing back a hard-hitting L.A. sound that a lot of people missed. His mixtapes dominating the DatPiff era and his story permeating through the underground music scene; everyone knew his name. My dad meanwhile, had been working at Jack Stephan Plumbing on Crenshaw Ave. for the past 20 years. Dispatching plumbers to their homes as customers called in their jobs.
The shop was a close dysfunctional family. My dad would often come home with food they cooked at lunch or bootlegs from the Crenshaw T-Shirt guy Sam. I would always ask if he had anything new and one day came home with a mixtape called The Marathon by his brother, Nipsey Hussle. I was upset, between the shirts and his always mentioning how Sam had a rother who rapped, how had I not put the two together. My dad meeting him once when he bought a white shirt with a black Crenshaw logo having the same reaction as a lot of parents had, he took his name from Nipsey Russell. Many people in the area had more meaningful stories with both brothers being so invested in their community. Forming strong relationships with every corner and crevice they could impact.
By the time the Crenshaw tape came out, the store had been updated from the last time I went, back when my dad gave me The Marathon CD. I asked my dad if he could get us tickets to his show at the House of Blues. He asked Sam and we got hooked up with two tickets and a very generous discount on the newest Crenshaw gear that just released. After that show, I realized the possibilities that music could take you. Learning how it could pay to do what you love. Markie and I then dedicated our lives to music coverage. Eventually covering Nipsey at ComplexCon where Markie introduced himself to Jorje Peniche, Nip's manager. Over time getting to know him and the humble crew he ran. We were getting close to working with the man that lifted our days with the help of a motivating mixtape. But we didn't work fast or hard enough.
I didn't know how I would get into the Staples Center the day of Nipsey Hussle's Celebration of Life, but I knew I had to make it happen. As the news broke out of Nipsey's death, I was in the midst of training for my new job at KNX 1070 News Radio. As the news broke I was preparing the audio for the reports. A small but surreal moment in my life, being the only one in the newsroom who had known who Nipsey Hussle was. Taking advantage of my newly employed status, I asked my boss if I could take her up on her offer to cover a reporter by tagging along for the Celebration of Life. She seemed shocked that I was interested in the story and I told her about my dad, the concert, meeting his manager.
The day of the ceremony felt somber and chaotic. The entire square of L.A. LIVE was blocked off and the All Money In Brinks Truck was parked outside of the Staples Center entrance. They were only letting one reporter per outlet into the venue and had a strict no photo or video policy once inside. Since I was shadowing, I was expecting to wait outside during the ceremony and interview fans like I had just watched the reporter do. As time grew closer to separate with my reporter, I hoped and prayed that some miracle would let me in. Sure enough, a simple ask from the kind publicist put a ticket in my hand. I melted inside. I found myself surrounded by every major news network and no one knew who this man was and why he was so important. Everyone dressed in crisp button-ups, professional dresses and I was in the Crenshaw T-Shirt Sam gave me for the House of Blues show.
Right on schedule, the media ladies escorted us to the front entrance as reporters took their phones out self-reporting in front of the Staples Center sign. They put flowers in front of the Brinks Truck and as we walked in they handed us the program. A thick photo-filled book with messages from family, friends, celebrities you would never think cared for Nipsey Hussle. We walked into a double suite that sat directly across the stage, two screens on the side with Nip's profile and a flower covered All Money In Logo resting on top of his casket. I felt emotional but had to pull it together to seem professional in front of reporters from CNN, MSNBC, FOX, Spectrum News, and much more.
I flipped through the program and took it all in. After all these years of covering music, I had realized I held back. I could have pushed harder because Nipsey had always been right in front of me and now he was taken away. The moment was bittersweet, here I was in a seat I feel I didn't deserve all was knowing I deserved it more than any reporter in that room around me. People asking me what the children's names were while googling their ages, overhearing scoffs during his mother's speech and feeling alone while Jhene Aiko sang Eternal Sunshine.
That night I drove home crying, mad that I had never tried that hard before to meet him. Replaying my dad's voice in my head when he told me Sam said next time we should go backstage to meet him. Feeling robbed not for myself but for a global community that wanted to make it and give back to where they made it from. Be the 'Nipsey Hussle' of their home town.
It's hard for me to listen to rap these days. I feel like no one is saying anything and they're still trying to escape their problems as opposed to facing them. Nipsey presented his life as it naturally was, revealing the ugly side and building it to greatness on the way. Spreading the message of self-worth and hard effort. He was an example for everyone that wanted to fight against the cards they were dealt with.
Lately, I feel like the weather in L.A. has been shit since Nipsey died. Guilt lives in the hearts of his closest friends as they release new projects and life in music has never felt the same. I find myself listening to more R&B, Neo-Soul, Jazz, and Oldies. It's hard to find peacefulness in music that doesn't feel even a little somber.
I brought my program home and showed the book to my dad as he fished through his laundry to make sure his crinkled overworn Crenshaw shirt was still intact. He went straight to the page with Sam's remarks and kept saying "this is so cool make sure you take care of this." Tears welling in his eyes as he read what Sam said to his little brother.
I never knew Nipsey and I never knew Sam but Crenshaw always held a special place in my heart. It was the first place my family lived when they came to America from the Philippines. My dad worked at Jack Stephan my whole life, where we stood on the roof as the endeavor passed by and had our picture taken and printed on the cover of the LA Times. We would go to the liquor store to play his lotto and buy the sweetest yellow watermelons from the watermelon guy down the street. He would also occasionally come home with sad stories of people getting shot in front of the shop. Sending me photos of caution tape on the corner of their block.
Nipsey was light not only for his community but communities everywhere continuing to go unnoticed. Being the change he wanted to see for the kids in the neighborhood and understanding that all they need was support. Whether it was with a job at his Fatburger, or a simple financial push to get them back on track. Building STEM programs and truly tapping into the importance of financial literacy and educating young entrepreneurs like himself. He was hope for a better life and proof that hard work yields great results. Today, his marathon continues in all of us. A life mantra that embodies stamina through any obstacle and encompasses the rocky journey it takes to get to the top.
