Gone But Not Forgotten
Every Strong Strider walks for someone. These are the loved ones who can no longer walk beside us — but who walk with us, every step, every sunrise. We carry their names up the mountain. We walk for those who can no longer walk alone.
Forever in our hearts
Curtis was the kind of man who made a room brighter just by walking into it. Quick to laugh, easy to love, he carried joy like a favorite song — and nobody loved R&B more.
Cancer called him home too soon, but it couldn't touch the music or the warmth he left in all of us. Now he walks ahead of us, wings wide, keeping the beat.
Gone from our sight, never from our hearts.
Married nearly 60 years
Before there was a movement, there was a marriage — nearly sixty years of it. Jay and Flossie built a life full of music and light, owning nightclubs in Las Vegas where the whole city came to dance. He was all warmth and big laughter under that hat; she lit up every room she entered.
When his health failed, Jay went on ahead. A few months later, Flossie followed — and those who loved them believe she always knew he'd only gone to save her a seat. Not even goodbye could keep them apart for long.
Together then. Together still.
Yvonne's little brother
Rodney was a force all his own — Yvonne's little brother, a high-school athlete with boundless energy and a spark nobody could copy. Eccentric, electric, impossible to forget, he was the one who kept the whole family laughing and never met a room he couldn't light up.
He lived loud, bright, and fully himself. Taken from us far too soon — but a light like his doesn't go out. Now he takes his victory lap with the angels, still the most entertaining soul in any room.
A vibrant light, never dimmed.
A second mother to many
Aunt Vera was warmth itself — all smiles and open arms, the aunt whose door was always open and whose love made every child who walked through it feel like her own. To so many of us she was a second mother, and no place in the world felt quite as safe as her house.
She lived entirely on her own terms — bold, unforgettable, holding nothing back — and she had a saying she lived by that told you everything about her:
"When I leave here, the world ain't gonna owe me a thing."
The funniest of them all
If laughter had a face, it was Larry's. Yvonne's brother and the family's resident comedian — who proudly went by “Larry Lamb” — he was forever cracking jokes, pulling funny faces, and keeping everybody in stitches. Happy-go-lucky to his core, he made any room lighter just by walking into it.
He was as handy as he was hilarious — the man could build anything. But what everyone remembers most is his heart: simply the best of people, who never took himself too seriously, and never let anyone else take life too seriously either.
He left them all laughing — and he's keeping heaven in stitches still.
The protector of the family
Ken was the mountain everyone leaned on — a powerful, broad-shouldered bodybuilder and the most accomplished of all his brothers and sisters. He was the justice of the house: the one who hosted every family gathering, and the one who, when it came down to it, laid down the law. You did not want to be on his bad side.
But behind all that strength was a teddy bear. For all his size and all his standing, Ken's heart was pure gentleness — a protector who loved his family fiercely and pulled everyone close every chance he got.
Strong enough to lay down the law, soft enough to be everyone's safe place.
Firstborn son · champion of his city
Josh was the firstborn of Jay and Flossie — and he carried that eldest-son spirit out into the wider world. Flashy, charismatic, and gregarious, he became a force in Las Vegas: he ran for the State Senate and City Council, and he fought to honor the giants of the movement, helping rename city streets for leaders like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and Sammy Davis Jr.
But to those who loved him, Josh was pure fun — a lover of mischief and bad jokes who pulled pranks and kept everybody in stitches. If you were in the room while he was cracking up, chances are you were the punchline. He lived large, loud, and full of love.
He left his name on the streets — and his laughter in our hearts.
A gentle, peaceful spirit
Derrick Jr. — DJ to everyone who loved him — was one of the gentlest souls you could ever meet. Docile, peaceful, and kind, he moved through the world softly and found his joy in the simplest, purest things: the outdoors and all of nature, a good plate of chicken nuggets, and most of all his cousins, whom he loved with his whole heart.
There was no harshness in DJ, no pretense — just a calm, sweet spirit that put everyone around him at ease. To know him was to be loved by him.
A gentle soul, at peace — and dearly, dearly loved.
The baby brother · reunited with his son
Derrick — “Dirty D” to those who loved him — was the baby brother of the family: quiet, soft-spoken, and warm all the way through. He and his brother Ken were inseparable; you rarely saw one without the other. And no one loved Michael Jackson more — the King of Pop was the soundtrack to his joy.
Derrick was also father to our gentle DJ. For a while, heaven held one of them and earth held the other — but now father and son are together again, side by side and at peace. A quiet love, reunited at last.
Together again — father and son, at peace.
Debonair and lovely
Aunt Vicky was elegance in motion — debonair, lovely, and always on the go, a woman who carried herself with effortless grace and lit up every room she swept into. For as long as anyone can remember, she worked at the Mirage, right in the heart of the Las Vegas lights.
And to the nephew who adored her, she was pure magic. Every single visit, she'd let him rent as many horror movies as he wanted — and that's how she handed him a lifelong love of the genre. Some aunts give you advice; Vicky gave you a whole world to fall in love with.
Elegant, unforgettable, forever in motion.
A bright, soaring star
Cousin Lisa was the most energetic, loving person you could ever hope to know — sweet, kind, and gentle all at once. She was a bright, soaring star, and everyone wanted to be her friend.
She carried a special kind of light, the kind that glowed the moment she walked into any room and warmed everyone in it. That light hasn't gone out — it just shines from a little higher up now.
A special light that glowed in every room she entered.
More tributes will join this wall, as the family chooses to share them. Walk in their honor →