It was August 5, 2022, and I was riding with our Chain Gang bicycle group of seven on the Rio Hondo bike path to the Arcadia Par 3 golf course. It was about 11:30 a.m. when I rode through an underpass and saw our Chain Gang leader, Gene Leong, on the concrete bike path unconscious. He had been about 10-15 seconds ahead of me and there was no obvious sign of what happened. I stopped and went to him, there was no movement. I thought the worst had happened, and felt shocked. I moved his bike to the side, the group blocked the path and we called 911. After about 5 more minutes, Gene moved. The Paramedics then arrived, and I held Gene’s head as they put on a protective collar and moved him to a mobile cot. He seemed in and out of consciousness and they took him to the LA County USC Emergency Hospital. I went through a week of worry and anxiety not wanting to burden the family by seeking updates, hoping he would recover and come back to riding with our group again. Finally, on August 14 I received a text message from his son that he had passed away on August 13 and it has torn a hole through me and the scar is deep because the love was deep. Gene was my very dear friend.
There are people you work with or know for years that you never really connect with. There are others that you connect with as soon as you meet them and a few who become true friends. Gene’s naturally good, friendly, and open-hearted personality hit it off with me, and we immediately became true friends.
I met Gene by chance one summer day in 2013 in Arcadia, California. I was retired and had just moved to San Gabriel from the Midwest where I had grown up and spent my professional career. This was California, a place I still had in my mind from the publicized culture here from the ’60s. I felt apprehensive. It was in a new city, one I imagined so different from my social and politically conservative roots, and I had no social circle. I was a bicycle rider and was looking for a local bicycle group to connect with. I had heard that bicycle riders met at the Arcadia Par 3 golf course to begin rides so I stopped by one day. I met a group called the Arcadia Amblers that had just finished a bicycle ride to Seal Beach and back.
Gene was one of the riders and I remember going up to him to ask about his ride. I was an introvert and passive and usually didn't initiate conversations. Gene, on the other hand, was easygoing, warm, and broke the ice with questions about where I was from and my bicycle riding interest and poked fun at the other riders. He made me feel at ease.
He invited me to join the bicycle rides of the Amblers and, more personally, a 3-4 rider group called the Chain Gang. Here I was a new kid on the block, a 68-year-old guy, and he took the lead in making me feel welcomed by the group. All the friendly gestures made me feel appreciated and enabled me to establish very quickly a social circle. It meant so much to me when he helped me connect with the Chain Gang bicycle group. He checked with me when I could do a ride before scheduling rides, was always there to introduce me to other riders, and make fun of and joked about me in a humorous, friendly way. When I didn’t connect for a week or so, he would check how I was doing. When he had social events like the Fourth of July or Super Bowl parties at his house, he would invite me.
He and I always roomed together on overnight Ambler and other rides. And he and his wife, Diana, graciously made me feel at home on several occasions by inviting me to spend the night with them before Gene and I headed out for an overnight ride the next day. He organized weekly Chain Gang group rides and always liked to eat at the 101 Noodle and Newport Seafood Chinese restaurants after a ride in Arcadia. Our group fell in love with Chinese food and we all agreed to support his preference.
In my eyes, Gene lived a very rich life. His care and love of others flowed naturally to family and friends. He enriched my life, subtly by example. On our Ambler and Chain Gang rides and overnight stays together he connected lovingly with his family by daily texts, emails, and calls. He loved to talk about the proud accomplishments of his sons, his daughter, and later his grandson. He connected the same way with friends, always kind, open, and accepting. My wife and I socialized with Gene and Diana and they made us feel very naturally comfortable with any groups we socialized with.
Gene and I were similar age and I consider our almost 10 years of friendship in LA an old friendship. You can’t grow old friends, an old friend likes to remind me, and he’s right. The thing about old friends is not that they love you but that they know you.
I grew up in a culture that encouraged males, especially in sports, to suppress emotions- an ethos of “don’t let them see you sweat.” In Vietnam, we avoided dealing with the loss or wounding of a close friend by turning away and saying mostly to ourselves with a stone face ... “It don't mean nothin`”. Looking back, I just did not know how to comprehend the loss. My corporate law career just reinforced that ethos of repressed emotions.
Gene’s death has challenged my feelings of impenetrability. I never want to again get used to such a loss. The scar makes me uncomfortable, but I feel alive. The scar is a testament to the love and the relationship that I had for and with him. The scar is a testament to life; a testament that I loved him deeply, was cut deeply, and that I can heal. And the scar tissue is stronger than the original flesh ever was.
I enjoyed a true, deep friendship with Gene that I can never lose. But losing such a good friend who knew me feels like I am burying a part of my life. That part is gone with him but not the comfort and memories of having such a good friend.
I sure miss you buddy, may you Rest In Peace Gene.
CLOSING COMMENT- Writing and reading his story has been good therapy and a good closure for me and I hope it gives some comfort to family and friends.
(Chain Gang at Long Beach Lighthouse November 2021)
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