My name is Jim Cupp, and I’m Anthony’s uncle.
Anthony Lawrence Longo was born to Kelli and Larry Longo on August 12, 1988 in El Paso,
Texas. At about 6 months of age, Anthony moved to Missouri with his parents. At age 12
Anthony followed the Lord in believer’s baptism at First Baptist Church in Fulton, Mo. He
graduated the 8 th grade from Kingdom Christian Academy in Fulton, MO and graduated from
Centralia, MO High School in 2006. After high school, Anthony moved to Glendale, AZ where
he worked with his father as a security guard.
After his father’s death in 2010, Anthony worked for U-Haul and then became an apprentice
electrician and member of the IBEW local 640 in Phoenix, most recently employed by Miller
Electric. Anthony was proud to be following in his grandpa Robert’s footsteps by working as
an electrician. He loved his job and was affectionately called “Cubby” by his coworkers. He
was in his 4 th year as and apprentice.
Anthony was diagnosed with ADHD at a young age. While some believe that many kids were
incorrectly diagnosed with ADHD around that time, Anthony’s ADHD was completely legit.
He was in perpetual motion which made him quite a handful for his parents and grandparents. I
remember that when Anthony came to visit, we tended to sit around waiting for a loud crash
and it didn’t take long. Anthony was not a bad kid…he had an ornery streak like any little boy,
but he wasn’t bad, he just put the “H” in hyperactive. He was like a small Billy goat in a china
shop…on speed.
Anthony was no stranger to the emergency room. Multiple broken bones, stitches…you might
think he was accident prone but he really wasn’t, he just went 100 MPH all the time, so stuff
happened. If he was ever quiet, then it was time to worry because that meant he was up to
something.
Anthony loved his dad, Larry Longo. While his dad was alive, Anthony would spend summers
with his dad going to car shows, going to the beach, collecting model cars, and built computers.
He and his dad were best pals until his dad passed away in 2010.
Anthony was as strong as an ox. He would always draw an audience when he was lifting
weights in the high school gym, because people wanted to see how much he was going to lift.
Anthony had a big heart, and he was generous to a fault. His also a very smart and funny guy.
He had a quick wit and could joke about anything. He was so funny that his high school shop
teacher would actually reserve time at the end of each class period for Anthony to perform a
“comedy act” and make everyone laugh.
Relationships were very important to Anthony. At age 30, he was still in touch with his high
school friends, and he stayed in touch with his extended family. I was Anthony’s uncle and
lived 1200 miles away , and while we weren’t extremely close he would still call me up from
time to time for no reason other than to say hi and find out how the family was doing.
Anthony was always a good big brother and took care of his sister, Heidi, from walking her
home from school growing up, to letting her live in his home rent free years later. Heidi
recounted that he was always quick to speak into her life, from bluntly calling her out when she
was doing wrong to encouraging her and cheering her on when she was doing good. Heidi
considered Anthony to a life mentor the best male role model in her life.
The last time I saw Anthony was last fall. My mother had undergone heart surgery so I came to
Phoenix from my home in Kansas City to stay with her for the first few days of recovery at the
hospital. Anthony came to the hospital to see mom and to drive me to the airport, and so I went
down to the lobby to meet him and take him up to the room. Anthony and I hadn’t seen each
other for a couple of years, and so I reached out to shake hands, and he just looked at my hand
for a second and then shook his head and said, c’mon! Then he pulled me in for a big hug. For
me that sums up Anthony. Just a big old loveable kid.
Then, as Anthony was driving me to the airport, he talked to me about his faith, and he was the
one that raised the subject, not me. I knew Anthony was raised in a Christian home, but our
interactions had always been just cutting up with each other, and so I was both surprised and
pleased to have had the conversation. I don’t remember the details, only that I thought, “wow,
this is really cool. “
I’d like to close with some words from a song by an artist named Julie Miller. The song is
called all my tears:
When I go, don’t cry for me
In my Father’s arms I’ll be.
The wounds this world left on my soul, will all be healed and I’ll be whole.
The sun and moon will be replaced with the light of Jesus face.
And I will not be ashamed, for my savior knows my name.
So it don’t matter where you bury me
Because I’ll be home and I’ll be free.
It don’t matter where I lay. All my tears will be washed away.