My son was always very affectionate with us. When he was a little boy we often wrestled and I would tickle him. I had to caution him to be careful with me, because I had back pain in the early years. As a result, I often said, “Watch out, my back hurts.” I was surprised one day, when I asked Rex, “Who’s my favorite tickle boy?” and he replied, “No tickle boy daddy.” When I asked why, he laughed and said, “My back hurts.” Our wrestling tickle matches lasted throughout the years. He was never too big or too old for me to pick up and toss in the air, followed by a wrestling tickle match and our familiar banter of, ”No Tickle Boy Daddy, My back Hurts.” It made us laugh each time, and sharing this inside joke with my son was a special bond.

Rex loved long hot showers. It seemed he needed to drain an entire tank of hot water before he was ready to start the day, or get ready for bed. With 6 in the house, who also wanted a hot shower, there was a lot of prompting for him to get out, but Rex always claimed to need a few extra minutes to wash his hair, which generally seemed to coincide with the water turning cold.

Rex loved to play soccer and wanted as much field time as he could get. I recall one game, when we lived in Moorpark, California, when Rex seemed to be struggling on the field. His coach noticed too and pulled him from the game. Rex was very upset and wanted to return to the game. He insisted he was fine, but when he got to us, I could hear he was still struggling to catch his breath. Despite his many protests, we left the game and ran him over to his doctor. We learned Rex was having a serious asthma attack, in addition to having a double ear infection and a sinus infection. Rex, who never complained about being sick, was still frustrated with his coach, and us, for keeping him from the game.

Rex was also an avid chess player. He joined the chess club in elementary school and learned to plot moves several steps ahead. While I liked to play chess too, it wasn’t long before Rex won most of our games, using clever chess techniques. I recall a funny moment at the end of a five hour, multi school, multi grade chess tournament. Rex advanced, from one level to the next, and ended up in the final match, with a much older boy from another school. I was very excited for a win, but Rex lost the game. I expected him to be very disappointed when he made his way to me, but he was not. When I asked why he was so happy, having lost the final match, he said he didn’t want to win the match. This was a bit confusing to me, but Rex proudly displayed a very large trophy in his hands. Rex later explained that he wanted to be the second place winner because the second place trophy was larger than the first place trophy. A day or two later, I learned from Rex’s chess team coach, that a mistake had been made by the trophy company. Apparently they had mixed up the first and second place award plaques before gluing them to the trophies. The second place plaque had been glued to the largest trophy in error. For my son, the day was perfect. From Rex’s perspective, he did get first place, because getting the biggest trophy was the goal, not winning the match.

Rex loved all food. He loved juicy steaks and shrimp, scallops, and mussels. His two favorite food items were sushi and salsa. He loved sushi for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and convinced me, on more than one occasion, to ride him to school so we could stop at Giant Eagle, which is not even on the way to school, to get him a sushi breakfast! Rex loved sandwiches of every kind, but wanted a plain peanut butter and jelly sandwich each day in his lunch. As requested, I made him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich every single day and packed it with a large amount of other healthy items for him to eat. Regardless of how much food I packed for Rex, he was always hungry. I will always remember his ferocious appetite for food. Every day, as soon he got home from school, he went straight to the refrigerator. Even though I would be making a nice big dinner, Rex would be grabbing a snack. I’d ask him to wait, and say dinner would be ready in an hour, but he always said, “I know Dad, but I’m hungry.” I’d ask if he’d eaten his lunch, and he’d say, “Yeah, but that was four or five hours ago!” which always brought a little chuckle to me. At the time it drove me crazy, but now I see how it kept us together in the kitchen, and I like that memory. After the snack, Rex would do his homework, care for Shadow, and play his trumpet. In between, he would keep popping in to the kitchen to see what I was actually making for dinner, as he tried to steal what he could from the ingredients. Regardless of what I was making, I would say “Bugs and Worms” and he would say, “How About Sushi?” We shared this joke every day and it would always bring a smile to my face.

Rex loved to watch Practical Jokers, America’s Funniest Home Videos, The Carbanaro Effect, and American Ninja Warriors. We have a large room, with lots of seating, but Rex would always choose to sit with me, as close as possible, when we watched TV together. He always had an “I love you Dad” or a hug for me, as we watched TV and talked about his day.

I was so proud of my son. I told him, on a daily basis, that I was proud of him and was so glad he was my son. He would always reply, “I’m so glad you’re my Dad.” Rex was a tender and affectionate kid. We expressed how much we cared for each other, every day, and I am so glad for it. Rex and I always said his nightly prayers. When he was staying up late, and I had to go to work before he went to bed, we would get it in before I headed out the door for the night shift. We always said, “Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep, thy love be with me through the night, and wake me with the morning light, Amen,” and it meant the world to both of us. We always finished with I love yous and hugs.

Rex was the most generous and giving boy. I know he would have wanted to share his strong and healthy organs with others, to save a life. I know Rex would be so happy to know that he was able to save 7 lives with his generous gifts. All I can say is “Watch Out,” to the lucky kids and adults, as they better be ready for sushi cravings, video games and lots of music!

First, let me say Rex and our family are honored to have everyone here, especially our Boy Scout Family, Rex’s Pittsburgh Youth Philharmonic Family and the Ingomar Middle School Jazz Band, led by Mr. Pisani, all of whom will be forever with Rex and held in our hearts.

I asked my nephew John, if I should write 3 pages or 500 pages. I have so much to say about my son, and tried my best to be concise, but hardly scratched the surface of the things he was and did, that made him so special…

My son Rex was remarkable. That sounds like a comment a grieving mother would make but it is a comment I made, to myself and others, many times over the years. He was an adorable happy baby. He was a sweet toddler, who never went through the terrible “twos”, but kept us running after him as he climbed and explored everything, while we ran to keep up, always focused on keeping him safe. By age three or four, it was clear to others that Rex was remarkable too. When other kids were fighting over a toy, or having to be first in line, Rex was happy to give his toy to others and step back to let others take the line of excited kids out to play. Considering how eager he was to leave the classroom, and how much he loved to get outdoors to play, this patience was noteworthy.

As Rex became a teen, I imagined his easy going disposition would change and that he would become frustrated and short with us, but he did not. He continued to be loving and gentle, kind, helpful and generous. I can honestly say I cannot recall one occasion when Rex was disrespectful to my husband and I, or showed any displeasure or anger with us. As a parent of other children, I know Rex was remarkable in this respect, and looking back, I see I was harder on Rex because he never got riled up, even when I was at my wits end, especially as I tried to find a path to help him navigate his school work.

Rex was also very Zen, very mellow, and very at peace with himself and the world around him, while we allowed ourselves to be tossed around on the waves of conflict, and fought to right ourselves, while Rex remained unaffected, bobbing on the surf, relaxed but poised to catch a wave.

My son loved many all things. He loved his family and his friends. He loved playing with his sisters, especially boating, skiing, and jumping on the trampoline. He loved his neighborhood friends, and would chose to spend every free minute with his best bud Peter, playing video games, riding bikes, and organizing air soft wars. He loved Shadow, his rabbit, and Rosie, his dog. He loved every animal he ever met, and cherished the moments he was able to watch the pets of others. He especially liked caring for sweet Griffin and Hedwig, as he was allergic to cats so could not have one of his own, as much as he begged us to relent.

Rex was very athletic. He loved to climb, he loved to jump, and he loved to run. He was a very good baseball player, but left the sport when he discovered soccer. He loved to play forward, and he loved to score. Rex could not get enough soccer until his very dear friend Jimmy introduced him to In Line Skating. Jimmy and Rex shared Boy Scouts, tubing and In Line Hockey. Indoor and outdoor soccer took a backseat to his new hockey passion, which seemed especially dangerous to me, as I watched him work to stay upright as he learned the game. I recall last week, at his last game, how amazingly graceful and strong he looked, as he aggressively skated forward and backward, pivoting on a dime, to steal the puck from his opponents, time and again. I loved watching Rex play hockey, because I knew how much joy he felt soaring around the arena. At this point in time, Rex was all hockey, and looking forward to the next season with his buddies on the North Allegheny In-Line Hockey Team.

Rex also loved to snow ski and snow board. I was horrified to watch as he entered his first snow board course, at full speed, and took a jump onto snowboard rails, while on skis. With the grace of God he did not kill himself, and his elation endured, even though the anger lecture that followed, about safety, etc. etc.

Rex loved to boat, wake board and tube. He was a man of action and he often built body pyramids with his sisters and friends as our boat raced down the river. Rex was a free spirit and at peace in solitude as well. While we are a boating family we are not a fishing family. Somehow Rex was born to be a fisherman. He asked for a pole as soon as he could walk, and we panicked each time we couldn’t find our baby, who would grab his pole and sit for hours at the water’s edge, waiting for a bite. We puzzled about this ability to sit and wait, when the rest of us were running about, no doubt doing something unnecessary.

My son was also very talented, musically. Rex and his sisters attended a Cultural Arts School in California which gave them the opportunity to explore music at an early age. Rex dove into all things musical, head first. He mastered one instrument after another, to include bongos, single drums, full drums, xylophone, ukulele, harmonica, electric guitar and electric bass, and piano. We thought it was cute when he would tell people he played 15 or 16 instruments. We got a lot of rolled eyes, but we knew it to be true. When he was in second or third grade, he was asked to support the music teacher, with contributions from multiple instruments, for fifth grade graduation ceremony. After that he joined Rock Band and was invited to play different instruments at a coffee house, prior to Mr. Walsh’s band taking the stage I recall two brief anecdotes like it was yesterday.

The first time he performed at the coffee house he learned to play the electric bass part for Sweet Home Alabama, by Leonard Skynyrd Band, a song he was certain I had never heard before. After the one, two, three, Mr. Walsh started on the electric guitar and Rex froze. Mr. Walsh and the other professional musicians stopped. Mr. Walsh knelled before Rex, and said, “You have the music in you, just play.” Rex walked over and sat on a speaker, closed his eyes, and played beautifully, not opening his eyes until the applause was deafening. Another night he performed on the full drum set to Slow Ride, by Foghat. He was wonderful, but I could only see the top of his head, and the sticks flying. At the time many of the coffee house performances were put to Youtube, if you want to search for Rex, at 9, exploring his musicality.

Rex’s talent was remarkable. Although his friends know him as a trumpet player, he played the piano before moving to the east coast. You will be surprised to hear Rex was a natural, played by ear, and could memorize dozens of songs, which required us to tape lists of song titles, over our key board for requests. He did not play sheet music prepared for students. He played blues and ragtime, with both hands flying up and down the keys, and his feet working the pedals. I recall Ragtime Blues and Whistle Stop Blues were two of his favorites. We did not realize his genius, until we came downstairs, one morning, when he was 8 or 9, and heard him playing an excerpt from a Strauss Waltz. Rex, who did not know the source of the piece, told us he heard it on Americas Funniest Home videos the night before and he liked it. Having heard the song once, he could play the excerpt having heard it once, the following morning with errors worked out from memory. We decided to get Rex private lessons, after he slipped away from us, during a recital reception for his sister Jamie, and the noise of the reception was halted when ragtime came pounding from the grand piano in the church. Rex, who had never played on anything but a keyboard, said he had to get to the great big piano, even though he knew he would get in trouble if he got caught. He said he was playing quietly, so he would not be detected, and must have been so lost in the tremendous experience that he lost sight of the fact he was attacking the keys with a vengeance. As everyone filed in to watch the little boy at the piano, the pianist offered to give him lessons, and teach him to read music, on her grand piano. It was a double win for Rex, as she had several cats, that made it a point to stroll across his hands on the keys, then lounged on the top, as he did what we wanted, which was to learn to read music. This endeavor was tough for Rex, as the teacher quickly learned; Rex would memorize each song, which required her to move him from one song to another within a lesson, as she worked to get buy in from Rex with regard to reading music over playing by ear.

That said it broke my heart when Rex said he wanted to play the trumpet.  Although I initially resisted, he won me over and a new passion took root. My little boy loved all things trumpet. He mastered the instrument from my perspective, but Rex struggled to conquer it. Although he did not show anger, he showed and endured great disappointments, with the greatest frustration and disappointments tied to his beloved trumpet. Rex dutifully played his school band music, his jazz band music, and his Pittsburgh Philharmonic Orchestra music with love and affection. They were easy for him and he loved being part of the groups, but this is not what we heard at home. Rex did not practice music for these groups at home, because he sought out and found trumpet music on Youtube that took his breath away. Time and again he asked me to sit with him on the couch as he pulled up songs he found, that were now his “favorites.” In particular, he loved Herb Alpert, and the Tijuana brass, and Chuck Mangione. He listened to Youtube then worked to perfect the songs by ear. I eventually found music books for each artist and he dove in, again, head first. This brought him joy, but great pain, and to be honest, many tears of frustration, at his inability to perfect the pieces, even when I could not detect mistakes. This was especially true after his braces went on in December, which prevented him from hitting high notes he had mastered, that many students had yet to attain. Despite the fact I tried to comfort him, and repeatedly explained the pieces were difficult, complex, and written and performed by professional trumpeters, Rex thought I was making excuses to make him feel better. No one knew this more than Courtney, who helped him work through the disappointment he felt in his struggles to be perfect, without regard to his tender age. That said, he found a soul mate in Matt, who had the “Best Chops” and loved the music he loved. I know they worked on playing songs by Herb Alpert  and Chuck Mangione together and it brought him great joy.

My son was a boy scout. Once he got used to the idea of wearing the uniform, he was very proud to put it on. He loved his troop, he loved his fellow scouts, his leaders, and all the adults who volunteered their time to make the troop exciting and steady. He supported his friends on their Eagle projects and looked forward to the time when he would be in their shoes. His friends, of Troop 335, and many scouts from his Jamboree and AD ALTARE DEI groups are here tonight, and I know he would be so honored by their presence.

My son had a lot of plans but very few time lines. I know he planned to earn his last 3 Eagle badges this summer and planned to earn a fly fishing merit badge, for the fun of it. I know he and his sister Kellie planned to help Andy run games for Vacation Bible School next week. Rex planned to participate in the Franklin Ridge Swim Team and he planned to take an extraordinary 10 day Coral Reef Sailboat trip, in the Florida Keyes, with his father, and five other scouts from his troop, on June 18th.

Rex would have celebrated his 14th birthday on this trip, on the crystal blue waters, with a fishing pole in one hand and a snorkel in the other. He would have created an awesome father son memory, to carry into his future, but that is not to be. I grieve for my husband, that he was robbed of this last pleasure, with the son he loved, more than life itself.

Rex planned to be an engineer. He planned to design his own trumpet line, without brass. He imagined he could design a carbon fiber trumpet, like Younga’s amazing carbon fiber cello. That said, he told me his trumpets would be produced in neon colors, with his signature orange, front and center. Always modest, he planned to have his dear friend Matt, as the front man, playing his innovate trumpets, for marketing purposes, knowing they would be priced low, so everyone who wanted to own an awesome Smith Trumpet could afford one.

My son was modest and humble, which are not generally charter traits of 13 year old boys. He said he stopped playing the piano because he was embarrassed to receive so much attention, and he stopped playing trumpet solos in jazz band because he was embarrassed when we proudly showed our iPhone recordings of his performance to our friends. Rex had an amazing voice, but did not sing, because he did not want the attention. In California and Virginia, we received calls from music teachers asking us to persuade Rex to sing, because he had an amazing voice and they needed his pipes. He did agree to sing in Virginia. It was painful to him, but amazing to us. Moving forward, he was careful to avoid singing, anywhere but in the shower. Instead, he whistled. Nonstop, 24/7. If his eyes were open, Rex was tapping his foot and whistling, which was fine at home, but a bit disconcerting for his teachers and distracting for his classmates. When asked to stop, in the classroom, Rex was unaware he’d been whistling at all. I say this because I believe Rex was so full of music, that his brain did not have room for ordinary things, like math and science. Rex said he always had a string of music playing in his mind, which I believe, was good for Rex, in a self-indulgent way, but bad for goals I had in mind for him.

You may not know my son found beauty in everything. He loved the bridges and skylines of Pittsburgh. Each and every time we drove to the city, he saw the landscape with fresh eyes, and was compelled, to draw my attention to every detail, every shadow, and every cloud formation. Last week when I drove Rex and Jimmy to their hockey game, Rex drew our attention the glorious sun beams shooting down through the clouds to the river. Divine Glory, recognized by my son, as special, each and every time he saw it.

I should say Rex was the spiritual one in our family. He was eager to become an alter server and enjoyed working with Father Al and Deacon Rick. Rex was such a good boy; I think God could not stand living without him in the heavens.

This was a terrible accident. It is devastating for our family, for our friends, and for the angels at Children’s Hospital that endured the tremendous loss with us. Although my son could not be saved, they worked heroically to make him comfortable. There are too many names to remember, but I will remember their faces, the emotion in their eyes, and the feel of their arms, supporting me, until my dying day.

I believe God has a plan for Rex. I have to believe this to survive. Rex started his new life, with God, helping 2 adults and 5 children sustain life. There was no doubt, in our minds, that Rex would have wanted to offer these special gifts to those in need. My dear friend Dena shared a verse with me that has brought me comfort and I want to share it with you; John, Chapter 15, Verse 13: No one has greater love then this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.

In closing, I want to say my son loved his father and I, with a passion and devotion other parents would envy. We are thankful for the relationship we had with him, while he was within our reach for hugs and kisses, which he was always on hand to share with us. I want to thank my husband, for his support, and his patience with me, as I made him search Youtube, at the hospital, for Rex’s favorite instrumental trumpet pieces, like Feel So Good, Taste of Honey, Lonely Bull, Spanish Flea, and Casino Royale. I played them over and over again, on the pillow by Rex’s sweet face, hoping to give him comfort, as my husband and I shared these songs with Rex, for the last time.

I pray Herb and Chuck took note of this and came down to Rex, with blaring trumpets only he could hear, to take him up to heaven. I pray Rex is hanging with the jazz guys, wearing orange and eating sushi. I expect Rex will be watching over children as they pursue the musical instruments of their choice, on earth. It is this hope that gives me comfort as I struggle with God’s decision to take a boy who was so good, so soon.

For those who do not know me, I am Rex’s older sister Jamie.

First of all, I would like to recognize everyone for generously bringing food, flowers, and hugs to our grieving family, thank you. Next, I would like to say a few things about Rex. 

He is wonderful. He is absolutely amazing and wonderful. He is always chewing with his mouth open and popping his joints to give me chills and asking me to go on the trampoline right after dinner when even though he knows I feel like I am going to throw up. He is always yelling at me for smacking his butt, pinching his arm, starting our favorite TV show “Futurama” before he sits down or trying to kiss him just because I want to. My brother is always laughing at my incredibly corny and stupid jokes. 

My brother, along with being wonderful, is extraordinary with music. He can play trumpet, piano, bongos, drums, guitar, and so many other percussion instruments only he knows the names of...

The summer before Rexy was in fifth grade, we were living in Virginia. Along with being an average 5th of summer break in a new state and beautiful weather he tried to spend every single second inside playing video games. Most of his favorite games starred Mario, the Italian plumber we joked was our dad’s alter ego. That summer, the neighborhood pool was also having a talent show, at the talent show everyone was doing cartwheels and singing songs from the radio when my Aunt Joanie pulls up with Rex and our electric keyboard. As he gets out of the car everyone gets quieter for a minute before returning to the regular loudness of a pool in the summer. He carried the electric piano down the slippery wooden steps refusing any help like always because despite the fact he was only 10 and a half he insisted he had more strength than Mike Tyson. When he finally got the piano all set up everyone within earshot was silent. And then, he started to make magic, Mario magic. The

Mario video game theme song bounced off his fingers and the familiar music raced into the ears of all of the elementary school boys who started to grin when they recognized the tune. Some of the younger kids got up half way through and started looking for the CD player they were sure was hidden in a bush or behind a chair. No one actually thought that such a young boy could possibly be so fantastic. To the surprise of many of his classmates and his friends, it was all pure talent. The loudest applause I have ever heard in my life erupted from the small, chlorine withered hands of all the children there. And I just smiled. I just smiled because I never realized till that moment my brother was so talented and so unique that I was the most special girl in the world to be blessed with someone as cool as him. When I got home and told my mom all about it all she could say was how proud she was while a ginormous smile lit up her face. 

My baby brother cannot play me the piano, or the trumpet, or the how ever you pronounce that super weird African drum thing anymore. It’s ok because although I will not be able to hear it, he will be able to play all if his instruments in heaven for God. I guess that’s why all of this happened. Everyone is wondering (including me) why a generous and sweet thirteen year-old boy was stolen off this earth. I think it is just because God is jealous. I think God was so jealous that we got to hear his giggle every day and his new trumpet 5 minutes before each lesson that God needed to take him back because he thought it wasn’t fair that we got someone so perfect.

He might not have always been a perfect human, but he was always the perfect brother. Even now, he is probably cracking up at the stupid things Kellie and I are doing here on Earth like tripping over our own feet or walking into a door but that’s ok because we love him, and he’ll always be our brother.

We love you so much Rex, we love you more than we could have ever said it when you were here with us. I loved you through all the fights and the wrestling and the licking and the bike rides and the wedgie wars. I’ll swear I will love you until the end of time.

Thank you.

I remember when… Rex taught me how to do a backflip on the trampoline. He just told me to just do it and I actually did...

l remember when… we were on the tube a couple years ago at a lake and he fell off the back and no one noticed for a while.

I remember... when we were taking our dog Shadow on a walk with her harness and she ran under a rosebush. He crawled under the rosebush to get her.

I remember when... we were fishing at North Park and Rex was casting while my mom wasn't looking. His hook got stuck in my nose. My mom never noticed because it didn't bleed and he got it out quick. She couldn't figure out why we were laughing so hard.

I remember when...Rex, who was ten, went trick or treating with our younger neighbor lan, who is in kindergarten, and me instead of going with his friends. He always loved kids.

I remember when...he and l would take care of the Musi's cats even though he was allergic. He never made me scoop the liter. I just had to hold the bag.

I remember when...Jamie, Rex, myself, and our friends went to my grandma’s center to play Christmas music.

I remember when...Aunt Kris bought me and Rex and Ryan fried scorpions and worms. Surprisingly, Rex liked the fried ones better than the chocolate covered ones. He said they tasted like burnt popcorn.

I remember when... I taught Rex to braid my hair. He wasn't good at it but he liked doing it. I also braided his hair.

I remember when… every Sunday last year he and a church group would visit the Verland Center and play with the special needs children for hours.  

Some of these memories are the best l've had and one of the reasons I will miss my favorite brother Rex.