I write about my brother, John Homer. John-O was the third oldest of 7 siblings. I am the youngest. We had a special bond. John, along with my other 3 oldest siblings, was born to a different father. He spent part of his early childhood in a Catholic boys home before leaving home for good when he was just 15 (and I was 9). He grew up on the streets of New York's lower east side. He would surface only a handful of times over the years before I saw him for the last time when I was 19 and he was 25. He would die less than 4 years later, an IV drug user, of AIDS during the height of the crisis in 1991. I knew he was in trouble when I last saw him and wish I was in a better position to help him. John-O was smart, funny and talented. He greatly influenced my life in the short time I knew him. I'm sorry for not having a chance to grow old with him- or my brother Larry (who I also located through the Hart Island Project) or my sister Colleen. They all lived and died a similarly tragic and short life. I have old pictures and faded memories that tell a much different story of a happier family growing up. Unfortunately, I was too young, and they all left home too soon, for me to know where it went wrong. I'm grief stricken to think of John and Larry dying alone, but I'm grateful for the Hart Island Project for allowing me to find them. It's taken me nearly a year just to write this and I hope to find the strength to visit the island soon. I love and miss my brother John very much. - Rob Faro
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