Pawel Antosik
Donation protected
https://www.fox8live.com/video/2021/03/11/pavel-antosik-homicide/
Pawel Antosik departed this life on March 3, 2021 at the age of 43. Pawel was taken from his loved ones way too soon by cowardice and senseless gun violence in the St. Roch area, something the people the 7th ward must endure on a DAILY basis. Pawel began his extraordinary life in Poland and died on a slab of cold concrete, a few blocks from his home and about a year after he received his American citizenship.
Before and during the COVID pandemic, Pawel was known to use his extraordinary culinary skills to make gourmet meals for the entire neighborhood, the homeless, the poor, elderly people, stock up the free-refrigerator on Claiborne & Elysian Fields on a weekly basis, and make dinner plates for anyone who would post on Facebook about their family’s hunger and deliver them personally on his bike.... all after working shifts his shifts at Satsuma's in Bywater. Pawel had a big heart and lived a motto of ensuring no one went hungry. He was a very generous man, not only to his family, but his community and didn't deserve to die so young. He had so much more to give this world. Over the past few days, I have read many stories about Pawel on Facebook from his friends and his groups. I knew he did a lot but I was astonished to how much he meant to the many of our fellow neighbors of New Orleans. Even though the suffering he went through as he was shot once before in 2016, he still called New Orleans his home and never wanted to leave the people of this city. Pawel came along way from those days in Poland, where he was considered "Different".
In my closing of this statement, I would like to share some words that his best friend, Milka, from his Polish childhood, shared with us about Pawel's life and what he overcame, what was never fixed, and what he meant to her and many of us (the story is translated from Polish to English using Google but still reads great, I think):
This will be a story about Pawel: about my friend who is dead. He died tragically yesterday. To me, he was like a big, beautiful mysterious but also a dark house, full of beautiful ballrooms, where he invited us to beautiful concerts of his erudition, brilliance, ingenuity, and courage, but also dark recesses. Its cellars filled with decaying corpses of bad memories, and the attic where he stuffed his self-hatred which he learned from others in our Polish game. In these nooks and crannies, he hid in solitude and lost himself. It will be an epitaph for a beautiful, sensitive, and full of life. But also filled with immeasurable pain, suffering, darkness, and self-hatred: a burden that he carried with him throughout his life, and which sometimes robbed him of what he could create for himself and around him with his uniqueness. He tried so hard to do himself wrong sometimes ... And finally, he completed the work, in a bloody puddle that was the culmination of an extraordinary life and pointless death. I will tell this story, because it is the story of many LGBT+ people in Poland, a country where for decades our Polish hatred of the "Others" has been successful. Not at destroying human beings, not killing people, not being a murderer, but sometimes one who takes away life, piece by piece, driving you into an endless escape, despair, and depression.
It will be a story about a young gay man growing up in Poland in the 90s. About pain, violence, and silence that marked him forever. Pawel left a great mark on my life, which will remain with me forever, burned into my heart. I am also writing this for you Pawel, although it is too late, Although it was so hard to reach you with information about how extraordinary you are. But also for all those who, like you, find it difficult to find themselves in being different, in a country where the word "fag" is used to the right and left, beating or bullying a gay person is a sign of their "masculinity" for some, and many look away and remain silent because it is easier. I remember some idiot from our elementary class, he asked how I could be friends with you, Pawel…because you are "not a real guy". I remember the harassment and insults directed at you by these children and I also remember your fear. But you, Pawel, was the most real guy, brave, strong, extraordinary, but also someone more - you were special, because with you… everything was like through a magnifying glass, you were like a character from a book, with hyperbolic sensitivity, jumping into the darkest chasms and shooting the lives of us who had the honor of knowing you, like a great blinding ray of the sun. After spending half a day with you - everything else was bland, because you created worlds, spaces where everything was more interesting, more colorful or so dark that it was pure black, lived deeply that it would be difficult to go deeper. You only endured them, you struggled, you fought so hard against the darkness, and you didn't always win ... and you had your last fight.
We became friends when we were 12-13 years old. I am different, because I came from a different continent, initially trying so hard to fit in, although it was not feasible, and you - also a different one. And together we created a space where we accepted each other and loved each other, where there was understanding and a space where we could be ourselves. But apart from it, you were harassed, beaten, and mistreated - although I only found out about many things after many years. They beat you, called you names, bullied from class and school, some of them even here in my friends on Facebook, but they probably erased it from their memory ... Because what will they care about? A gay they knew in elementary or high school?? You, who cared so much for the people around you, surrounded us with care and your specific aura. You were oppressed and rejected, without the feeling that you can talk to anyone about yourself, that wherever you can find help and support, because our Polish society displaces, looks away , remains silent, or gives tacit consent ... And then you ran away for years ... From place to place, drifting around the world in search of something, but nothing could fill this deep void in you ... newly opening and festering, scars only slightly healed, even when you found unconditional and full love and a space where you could be fully yourself. Poland destroyed you, and although you loved it, you ran away from it too ... in a sadomasochistic ritual that you played over and over again, for years, and which finally killed you, far from home, somewhere in the morning on a dark street, you died alone , with the crutches stuck in the body again, once saved, this time without the possibility of survival, although right next to you, another life was going on for you - full of love and mutual devotion. But you were still chased by the demons of the past, great, terrible and at the same time obsessed with you.
Yes, "This is the end, beautiful friend" as our beloved Jim Morrison sang. You were the brightest and darkest point in my teenage years. Goodbye My friend. You will remain in my memory forever: both what was best in you and what was worst, because the worst was pain - and I must remember it when you see the suffering of the next generations of young people, others, lost, beaten, rejected ... And we must open the eyes and hearts of those who look away.
Anthony, you gave him love, acceptance, understanding; a true home and you shared with him your enormous strength, taking the good with the bad. You are his greatest love, the love of his life and I know there was no one else that could ever compare to you in his heart and mind, no matter how lost he sometimes was. You were his dream come true, his soulmate, his everything. Nothing can ever compare to what you gave him. And I know there are no words that can ease the pain. So I will not even try. He was loved. He will be missed.
Paweł Antosik
"This is the end, beautiful friend
This is the end, my only friend
The end of our elaborate plans
The end of ev'rything that stands
The end
No safety or surprise
The end
I'll never look into your eyes again
Can you picture what will be
So limitless and free
Desperately in need of
some strangers hand
In a desperate land
Lost in a Roman wilderness of pain
And all the children are insane
All the children are insane
Waiting for the summer rain
There's danger on the edge of town
Ride the king's highway
Weird scenes inside the goldmine
Ride the highway West baby
It hurts to set you free"
Donations are for assisting in covering the expenses of his funeral, cremation, 2nd Line (his favorite thing in the world), and placement at St. Louis #3. This page will be updated with a picture of his final resting place. As many has invoked his memory, the world lost a beloved book character who truly lived in every moment and invited us into this creative world, who was passionate about societal injustices & human rights, helping others, and living HIS own American dream with that Polish/ German flair. Even though our Pawel is enough for one lifetime, the world would be a much better place if we had many more Pawels.
Additionally, his coworkers and boss have organized an in-person fundraiser to also assist with these efforts this Saturday, March 13, 2021. This will take place in conjunction with this gofundme account. Satsuma's will be donating funds from Saturday's customers to assist with covering the expenses of Pawel's funeral, cremation, 2nd Line, and placement at St. Louis #3. They are open from 7am to 3pm and is located in Bywater at 3218 Dauphine St, New Orleans, LA 70117.
Thank you for taking the time to read Pawel's story....It's such a shame that it was a short story for him!
Pawel Antosik departed this life on March 3, 2021 at the age of 43. Pawel was taken from his loved ones way too soon by cowardice and senseless gun violence in the St. Roch area, something the people the 7th ward must endure on a DAILY basis. Pawel began his extraordinary life in Poland and died on a slab of cold concrete, a few blocks from his home and about a year after he received his American citizenship.
Before and during the COVID pandemic, Pawel was known to use his extraordinary culinary skills to make gourmet meals for the entire neighborhood, the homeless, the poor, elderly people, stock up the free-refrigerator on Claiborne & Elysian Fields on a weekly basis, and make dinner plates for anyone who would post on Facebook about their family’s hunger and deliver them personally on his bike.... all after working shifts his shifts at Satsuma's in Bywater. Pawel had a big heart and lived a motto of ensuring no one went hungry. He was a very generous man, not only to his family, but his community and didn't deserve to die so young. He had so much more to give this world. Over the past few days, I have read many stories about Pawel on Facebook from his friends and his groups. I knew he did a lot but I was astonished to how much he meant to the many of our fellow neighbors of New Orleans. Even though the suffering he went through as he was shot once before in 2016, he still called New Orleans his home and never wanted to leave the people of this city. Pawel came along way from those days in Poland, where he was considered "Different".
In my closing of this statement, I would like to share some words that his best friend, Milka, from his Polish childhood, shared with us about Pawel's life and what he overcame, what was never fixed, and what he meant to her and many of us (the story is translated from Polish to English using Google but still reads great, I think):
This will be a story about Pawel: about my friend who is dead. He died tragically yesterday. To me, he was like a big, beautiful mysterious but also a dark house, full of beautiful ballrooms, where he invited us to beautiful concerts of his erudition, brilliance, ingenuity, and courage, but also dark recesses. Its cellars filled with decaying corpses of bad memories, and the attic where he stuffed his self-hatred which he learned from others in our Polish game. In these nooks and crannies, he hid in solitude and lost himself. It will be an epitaph for a beautiful, sensitive, and full of life. But also filled with immeasurable pain, suffering, darkness, and self-hatred: a burden that he carried with him throughout his life, and which sometimes robbed him of what he could create for himself and around him with his uniqueness. He tried so hard to do himself wrong sometimes ... And finally, he completed the work, in a bloody puddle that was the culmination of an extraordinary life and pointless death. I will tell this story, because it is the story of many LGBT+ people in Poland, a country where for decades our Polish hatred of the "Others" has been successful. Not at destroying human beings, not killing people, not being a murderer, but sometimes one who takes away life, piece by piece, driving you into an endless escape, despair, and depression.
It will be a story about a young gay man growing up in Poland in the 90s. About pain, violence, and silence that marked him forever. Pawel left a great mark on my life, which will remain with me forever, burned into my heart. I am also writing this for you Pawel, although it is too late, Although it was so hard to reach you with information about how extraordinary you are. But also for all those who, like you, find it difficult to find themselves in being different, in a country where the word "fag" is used to the right and left, beating or bullying a gay person is a sign of their "masculinity" for some, and many look away and remain silent because it is easier. I remember some idiot from our elementary class, he asked how I could be friends with you, Pawel…because you are "not a real guy". I remember the harassment and insults directed at you by these children and I also remember your fear. But you, Pawel, was the most real guy, brave, strong, extraordinary, but also someone more - you were special, because with you… everything was like through a magnifying glass, you were like a character from a book, with hyperbolic sensitivity, jumping into the darkest chasms and shooting the lives of us who had the honor of knowing you, like a great blinding ray of the sun. After spending half a day with you - everything else was bland, because you created worlds, spaces where everything was more interesting, more colorful or so dark that it was pure black, lived deeply that it would be difficult to go deeper. You only endured them, you struggled, you fought so hard against the darkness, and you didn't always win ... and you had your last fight.
We became friends when we were 12-13 years old. I am different, because I came from a different continent, initially trying so hard to fit in, although it was not feasible, and you - also a different one. And together we created a space where we accepted each other and loved each other, where there was understanding and a space where we could be ourselves. But apart from it, you were harassed, beaten, and mistreated - although I only found out about many things after many years. They beat you, called you names, bullied from class and school, some of them even here in my friends on Facebook, but they probably erased it from their memory ... Because what will they care about? A gay they knew in elementary or high school?? You, who cared so much for the people around you, surrounded us with care and your specific aura. You were oppressed and rejected, without the feeling that you can talk to anyone about yourself, that wherever you can find help and support, because our Polish society displaces, looks away , remains silent, or gives tacit consent ... And then you ran away for years ... From place to place, drifting around the world in search of something, but nothing could fill this deep void in you ... newly opening and festering, scars only slightly healed, even when you found unconditional and full love and a space where you could be fully yourself. Poland destroyed you, and although you loved it, you ran away from it too ... in a sadomasochistic ritual that you played over and over again, for years, and which finally killed you, far from home, somewhere in the morning on a dark street, you died alone , with the crutches stuck in the body again, once saved, this time without the possibility of survival, although right next to you, another life was going on for you - full of love and mutual devotion. But you were still chased by the demons of the past, great, terrible and at the same time obsessed with you.
Yes, "This is the end, beautiful friend" as our beloved Jim Morrison sang. You were the brightest and darkest point in my teenage years. Goodbye My friend. You will remain in my memory forever: both what was best in you and what was worst, because the worst was pain - and I must remember it when you see the suffering of the next generations of young people, others, lost, beaten, rejected ... And we must open the eyes and hearts of those who look away.
Anthony, you gave him love, acceptance, understanding; a true home and you shared with him your enormous strength, taking the good with the bad. You are his greatest love, the love of his life and I know there was no one else that could ever compare to you in his heart and mind, no matter how lost he sometimes was. You were his dream come true, his soulmate, his everything. Nothing can ever compare to what you gave him. And I know there are no words that can ease the pain. So I will not even try. He was loved. He will be missed.
Paweł Antosik
"This is the end, beautiful friend
This is the end, my only friend
The end of our elaborate plans
The end of ev'rything that stands
The end
No safety or surprise
The end
I'll never look into your eyes again
Can you picture what will be
So limitless and free
Desperately in need of
some strangers hand
In a desperate land
Lost in a Roman wilderness of pain
And all the children are insane
All the children are insane
Waiting for the summer rain
There's danger on the edge of town
Ride the king's highway
Weird scenes inside the goldmine
Ride the highway West baby
It hurts to set you free"
Donations are for assisting in covering the expenses of his funeral, cremation, 2nd Line (his favorite thing in the world), and placement at St. Louis #3. This page will be updated with a picture of his final resting place. As many has invoked his memory, the world lost a beloved book character who truly lived in every moment and invited us into this creative world, who was passionate about societal injustices & human rights, helping others, and living HIS own American dream with that Polish/ German flair. Even though our Pawel is enough for one lifetime, the world would be a much better place if we had many more Pawels.
Additionally, his coworkers and boss have organized an in-person fundraiser to also assist with these efforts this Saturday, March 13, 2021. This will take place in conjunction with this gofundme account. Satsuma's will be donating funds from Saturday's customers to assist with covering the expenses of Pawel's funeral, cremation, 2nd Line, and placement at St. Louis #3. They are open from 7am to 3pm and is located in Bywater at 3218 Dauphine St, New Orleans, LA 70117.
Thank you for taking the time to read Pawel's story....It's such a shame that it was a short story for him!
Organizer
Anthony Bonal
Organizer
New Orleans, LA