
Slobo’s 40th birthday is today.
Those of us AEPi Psi Chapter alumni living in New York will be convening at a bar near Union Square tonight to raise a glass to our dear brother Slobo, or “Jonathan Benjamin Michaels” as he was born and known to the world until his fraternal consecration provided him with his new, Yugoslavic-inspired pledge name.
One person will be notably absent from tonight’s celebration: Slobo himself.
Jonathan Michaels went missing a few years ago… no one had heard from him, no one could reach him, messages to his family inquiring about his whereabouts went unanswered, his social media went dormant. Had he gone “off the grid”? Was he in rehab? Prison? Did he reinvent himself, rebrand, take on yet another name and begin a new life far away from the demons that had led to legal troubles, bouts of joblessness, and estrangement from some of his (once) closest friends?
A small band of brothers had formed an informal investigation, combing the Internet for any sign of life — or death. Somewhat hindered by the ubiquity of “Jonathan” and “Michaels” in online search results, they had been unable to find a published obituary or funeral notice…
That is, until last month, when Aaron “Digby” Tabak sent me this screenshot:
The age and location lined up, and a call to the cemetery confirmed the next of kin as his mother. This was our Jonathan Michaels. Our Slobo.
As the news trickled out to our pledge class, then throughout the chapter, then to the greater Johns Hopkins community, it was hard for anyone to believe or fully comprehend. How could someone so visible, so loudly present in our lives during such an extended, formative time come to live so invisibly that he died without a peep, without many of us even noticing? How could a person drop dead while his “friends” go on living — for more than five years — without a clue?
The belated news of Jon’s premature demise got me thinking about my Uncle Alan. My dad’s older brother had lived in New York City for my entire life, taking the train up to Westchester to visit for holiday dinners and random lunch dates. Despite being a sparse physical presence, he and I shared a special spiritual connection, and I would often think of him as he gallivanted around the globe on one of his many international adventures, or picture him sitting in his Greenwich Village apartment, messing around with the latest updates or apps on the newest Apple product.
If I hadn’t witnessed him on his deathbed at the hospital or helped bury him at his funeral 12 years ago, I would still think of Uncle Alan as currently tinkering in his apartment or scaling the steps of an ancient temple in some far flung vacation destination. Like Schrodinger’s cat, without empirical knowledge or direct observation of his present state, he may as well be alive and well.
Jon and I lost touch around eight years, yet he had remained active in my mind for all that time. I assumed he was doing something in the medical or pharmaceutical field, having trained to become a doctor. I assumed he had a girlfriend, or maybe even a wife by now, and that he had found a new group of friends and social routine. I assumed he was out there, somewhere, living it up.
We still don’t know the cause of Jon’s death, and we still haven’t heard a word from his family, despite several recent attempts in the wake of this tragic discovery. It’s a terribly sad situation, saturated with complicated emotions that are still being untangled and processed by those who knew and loved him. The fraternity has reconnected in a WhatsApp group where tonight’s gathering has been organized and where future reunions are in the works. Jon was the life of the party during our college days, and his legacy in death is to keep the party going; to keep the brotherhood bonded.
I’ve been soliciting folks to speak to me for a podcast project about Jon and this strange, shocking saga. Michael “Trigger” Ashe was the first to record, and you can listen to our conversation in this fifth episode of The 40-Year-Old Podcaster. Stay tuned for more remembrances and perhaps, more answers…
Music used in this episode: “Contexture” by Ric Mills
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