One LAST Ride with Alex O’Dell

Hello friends,

By now most of you have heard the tragic news about my little brother Alex O'Dell.

Alex was loved by many, but truly known by few. He had a heart as big as the sea, and would unselfeshly give anything he had to help someone in need. A large portion of his life was spent chasing dreams. As he struggled on, unfortunately for Alex, he never found a way to make his dreams become reality. His life came to a tragic end in Los Angeles, California. His untimely death couldn’t have came at a worse time for his family financially. I would like to honor his life by bringing him home and laying him to rest with our dad.

My plan is to rent a motorhome and accompanied by his son (Alex Jr.) ,his brothers (Joseph, Joshua, Kris), and I travel back from California leaving small pieces of him along the way before spreading the rest of him over his dads grave in Pearland. All this along with cremation, a memorial service, and other final funeral expenses are adding up very quickly. I have struggled with the idea of asking for help since I heard the news on January 27th, but as the numbers continue to climb I’m left with no other option. I absolutely in NO WAY want any financial gain from this and plan on finding a charity to donate any money remaining.

R.I.P. LITTLE BROTHER!

I still don’t know the words for what’s going thru my head right now. So here goes.

(Written hours after I started):

Please forgive my lengthy rant. In my heart, I know those who really are meant to read them will endure.

I always felt like this day would come, but never wanted to give up hope, that one day my brother would rise above his illness and conquer his demons.. Physically, he was one of the toughest sleepers you never wanted to tangle with. Mentally, he was as weak as an adolescent teen.

After our dad died I saw him change. At that time he had a good job, and a wonderful family made possible by his wife Amelia Valdez. Together they created a beautiful daughter Elizabeth Valdez, son Alex Valdez, purchased a new mobile home and placed it next to the best “Granny and PawPaw” anyone could ever ask for. He had made it! Or so it seemed….

My dad was his rock,…. his safety net and Alex was his baby boy. At two and a half years apart, he was just young enough that (I felt) he shouldn’t be given the same privileges as me, but old enough to match my tiny butt in size. That gave him and dad the idea, what was good for me was good for him. When “be home before dark” changed to “back home before 8:00” for me, it changed for Alex. I remember the fights we had, when my jealousy and his picking got the better of us. I could never make a mark on his face because it would tip dad off to our fight and that meant a trip to the bedroom. I remember our 2nd to last throw down (no need to talk about the last two, we were much older and the last time….way more intoxicated) when the gloves came off. The pact I long had with his face was over and I made sure he knew it. I was ready to take a trip to the bedroom. After that incident… the picking came to a halt, however my jealousy did not. I didn’t want him to play with my friends. He had his own! With all my pushback on him he never stoped loving me and wanting to be just like me. I was an artist, so he wanted to be one too. As a young boy of 12, I remember working with dad mowing yards and landscaping during the summers. I knew I had to earn money to buy the nicer things I knew our parents couldn’t afford. It’s weird, but I can still remember a lot of the things I bought. Lay-a-way was my best friend, and $2/hour didn’t fatten my wallet up very fast. I remember one specific incident when payday came my dad figured up what i was owed, then he turned around and payed the same thing to Alex. At the time I was livid! I strongly objected to Alex getting paid the same thing. I earned that for working while Alex was off playing with his friends. My dads response was “What does it matter to you, your getting your money?” Alex loved our dad more than anything. The relationship between dad and me was volatile. When the time came for me to leave home I was 16 and Alex was 14. Shortly after I left our parents separated and our dad found an amazing new partner in life. Alex stayed with mom for a bit, but it didn’t take long to see that dad was the only one capable of handling him. Work and money wasn’t an issue for him. He was content just being with friends and family and quite happy with the $250/school clothes allowance Sandra Coplen Rozas and dad had budgeted each year. He always knew dad had his back, and could/would remain under his roof for years to come. In his later teen years he worked with dad during the summer. For his first tax paying job, I believe, he found himself along side of his new fiancé Amelia waiting tables in Humble. He loved it, and with his charm he made good tips. I’m sure Amelia made more being a hot chick and all. That lasted until his limit had been pushed by the last rude customer, so he decided to give them their coffee all at once due to its “accidentally” being spilled right in their lap. Following that heated firing, I believe he took a job at Wal-Mart as a stocker. I remember the need to take care of his new family, and the desperation he dad to find a job. After working there a while he found a better job at a shipping plant. He had grown so much and at over $12/hr, he toppled my measles <11. Then that dark day arrived when we got the call about our dad. Alex was who let me know it had happened. I broke…. I’m sure the guilt of all those years I neglected him, them… played a big part. One thing I remember from Alex was strength. Maybe for him, his strength was drawn from the comfort he had… knowing he had a good life and shared a lot of great memories with dad before he left us. His strength quickly crumbled. He quit his job to sell Cutco knives. After that failed, he started a knife business and rented a storefront in Sweeny. When that failed, he digressed into a downward spiral. After loosing everything he had including his beautiful wife, daughter, and now son he bounced from one job to another. In and out of jail house after jailhouse, in-out of rehab, and lived on the street more times than I know of. His sickness/addiction had engulfed him. Four years ago, as he was about to get out of incarceration, I received a call from his counselor. She proceeded to educate me on his mental state. She told me he was had schizophrenia. He literally couldn’t separate fact from fiction at times. She said that with the proper medication he could live semi-normal with his disability. That’s where another problem keeps in. He loved drugs and some of his medications were exactly that drugs. With Alex, one beer evolved into one toot, then another, then a needle, and on and on. In the end I can say that his all one paragraph, pronunciation free story’s he would send me were legible more often than not. our phone conversation were easier to understand. He was doing good… making progress. unfortunately though, that one last time, ended up being his last.

The day after Alex’s death 1/27/23 would have marked our dad’s 68th birthday.  I pray my dad got the best birthday present he has had in 23 years. Today I pray he saw his baby boy again.

Until we meet again. I will try to never forget your voice Alex saying, ”Hey big, it your Little brother!”

RIP…. Alex Scott O’Dell