bradford walters

brad and i became fast friends in 2003, 9th-grade homeroom. as first bell rang, he loved to play an “air raid dub” of darude’s sandstorm (yeah, that was still a newish track) full blast above the dean’s office and jump off the second-story breezeway to run to first period. he taught me how to tuck and roll.

he showed me a song called “let’s talk about spaceships,” and i still miss our extremely serious freshman musings about aliens. our friendship grew stronger through high school and well beyond. we surfed together. we created together. we made music together, calling ourselves “los dos.”

brad was the kind of friend who, no matter how much time passed, always felt close. even as the years scattered us, a call or a text was all it took, and suddenly five years of silence could feel like five minutes. we could always find the grooves of our friendship, drop the needle, and the music between us would start playing again.

this page is where i’m collecting what i can find of his minimalism and revolt against digitalism. here is a small tribute to an artist, an athlete, a brother, a son, a friend, a human tour de force. the brightest star in a constellation everyone looks up at and recognizes, and smiles. miss you brad.