The Black was a Pure Man
When you lose a colleague or a friend, almost always some tearing occurs within you and a part of you goes with him.
“I find it hard the idea of the death of The Black…” “"I can see him here with us…” “It is an irreparable loss…” “He was very loved by all.”
Many phrases like these were heard from the night of June 12, when his body got tired to fight for life, in a hospital in Maracay, Venezuela, against a disease that surprised him far away from us; and that it seemed he had frighten it away, when there were just few weeks to meet us again in Havana.
How could we forget Jesus Risquet, The Black, who left a trail of unforgettable affections? He was friendly. He always had a smile in his lips, like a relieve for worries, giving advices, making people feel satisfied, helping people, devoting himself, giving lessons of life, full of kindness to share with the rest, asking nothing instead. Together with him, time was peaceful, no fear to storms and thunders.
He was witty and funny; he liked his surprising and singular ways of matching his clothes, a label that always made him attractive for the rest. With his noble and innocent mood, we go around him to be dressed with his contagious cheerfulness wherever we were.
Together with him, we were never cold. And he left us like that, with his own scene, like his website, and his freak dead, but pure. Thanks Risquet, it was a great pleasure to share with you.
Trabajadores Digital Editorial staff