Hello,

 

It's Chente (Vicente Ross-Gutierrez). My oldest brother, Joey Armas, passed on January 4, 2022, leaving behind his wife and five children at the age of 44. So, while we're all still in disbelief, I'm asking for help to support for his family and help with burial during this difficult time.

Joey was always there for his kids and his family. He was always at any family celebration. Usually outside or in the garage. Joey was really the closest father figure that I knew. We both grew up father-less. And us, being the only two for a long time who had kids, he stuck by his kids. Though we never talked about being dads or what it meant or did any of that kind of bonding, he was there. My kids would often call him "Dad" because they were always at their cousins' house when they were young.

When I was younger, I would tell all my friends he was my "cholo" brother because he looked so different from all of us. They'd look at me, then at him and go, "That's your brother?" Though he looked sometimes intimidating, he was one of the chillest persons you could meet. He was always making people laugh with his laid-back humor. And he was quick about it. You could have to sit there and think about it, then you'd burst out laughing. I know he'd also like me to mention that he liked telling the story about me getting mad at him and hitting him with a dustpan and broom when we were kids. He'd bring it up at every family gathering, everyone always laughing. And, I mean, like at every family function.

 

 

Joey was smart, too. If he wanted to learn something, he could pick it up easily. I remember when I would repair PCs he would ask if I had this kind of RAM or hard disk drive or SATA connector or whatever else. "You know about that stuff?" And he'd show me the PC he was building from a mish-mash of components. Car detailing, building PCs, rapping, my brother learned quick. I was sometimes surprised by the stuff he knew about. He never boasted or bragged about any of it (that I knew). I didn't even know he rapped because he never brought it up to me. When I started skateboarding in high school, he'd tell me all about how he used to skate and what trucks were and bearings and whatnot.

 

 

 

When I was little, I remember I would follow him around and call him "Brother". Not like the common usage, but you called your mother "Mom", you called your father "Dad", so it made sense that I'd call him "Brother"? I thought that's what younger brothers did. Okay, Brother. Yes, Brother. Except I said "Butter". And, of course, as the eldest, he made fun of me for it. And though we are technically half-siblings, he was always my brother. My older brother Joey.

 

 

 

So, if you can help out, we'd appreciate it. For his wife and kids and helping him get buried. If you can contribute, and you knew him, please leave some memory of him along with your donation. If you can't, share and do so anyway. Any bit helps. We all appreciate your help during this difficult time. All the funds will go to them and helping with his burial.

 

I love you, Brother. I'll miss hearing the dustpan story this and every year.