Gregory Silver

Gregory Jon Robert Silver was born on May 31, 1971, in Bloomington, Illinois. When the attending physician told his mother she had given birth to a boy, she exclaimed, "Oh, it's a boy, it's a boy. I wanted a boy." Since Greg had an older sister, Julie, who was 6 years his senior, waiting for his arrival, she decided one of each was great!

Greg came into the world with music in his soul. As a toddler, he nearly wore the grooves off the family's recording of "Jesus Christ Superstar." Music, especially 80s music, remained his passion throughout his life.

In 1975, when he was 4 years old, his family moved to Austin, Texas. Following two years in nursery school, he was enrolled at Casis Elementary School, where he had wonderful teachers. When he was tested prior to entering first grade, he was found to be reading at the 7th-grade level, self-taught. This was the result of watching PBS shows "Sesame Street" and "Electric Company" on TV with his sister, Julie. He had a passion for books that remained throughout his life. As a youngster, he was frequently found in his room, seated in his black beanbag chair between two plastic bushel baskets filled with books. Over the years, his passion led to his starting as a library volunteer as a teen, which continued through his 20s as a volunteer at the main library in Austin.

At Casis, when handwriting proved to be a problem, he was taught to type. And type he did, really fast! This skill proved to be invaluable much later when he applied for jobs. Greg graduated from high school with honors, from Kirby Hall and enrolled in Austin Community College. He selected a major in Radio, TV, and Film (RTF). That degree plan was later changed to Communications and his interest expanded to include writing, specifically poetry. He graduated with honors from ACC, a member of Phi Theta Kappa.

Greg then enrolled at Concordia University, where he earned a BA in Communications. He was again an honor society member (Alpha Chi Chapter of the National Honor Society). During his years at Concordia, he began writing poetry, filling notebooks with his work. He developed what was to become a lasting friendship with one of his professors, who appreciated his poetic talent. The two of them would later meet at a local corner bakery to discuss his writing over scones. NOTE: This professor selected one of his last poems, entitled "Meatsuit," to use with one of her college classes. The poem proved to be a catalyst for meaningful class discussions.

After graduation, Greg did an internship at the American Heart Association on behalf of the Texas Association of Mexican Chambers of Commerce (TAMACK). He began his professional career as an Administrative Assistant at the Texas Energy Research Association, where his primary responsibility was processing corporate filings. After five years, he took this knowledge and skill set to the Corporations Division of the Office of the Secretary of State.

Greg's passion for writing poetry led him to become a member of the Austin Poetry Society (APS). He frequently submitted his poems for monthly and annual contests, often winning prizes. He met wonderful people who became friends and who nurtured his talent. Sometimes other monthly contest winners would ask him to read their poems aloud to the group. He thus discovered that he enjoyed speaking in public, which led him to participate in "open mics" around town.

His passion for music was on display in his music blog, which he called Ear Buzz (http://www.recordplaya.blogspot.com). Here, he posted his music reviews, complete with sound clips. His blog received lots of views, and he was ultimately pleased to bring attention to upcoming performances by a local band.

Greg loved working on the NY Times crossword puzzles. When he found that he had correctly completed them, he filed them in a folder which he labeled "Posterity Crosswords". He enjoyed "sometimes dining experiences" at restaurants around Austin. His well-written reviews earned him the status of "Yelp Elite". It also earned him an occasional free meal. He will be remembered by his Allendale neighbors for starting up a "Game Night," which was well attended until the neighbors moved away.

Unfortunately, Greg was diagnosed with Young-Onset Parkinson's Disease (YOPD) when he was in his early forties. When his neuromuscular and mobility were increasingly incapacitating, he was eventually forced to retire on full disability from the State of Texas under the TIPPS program.

After his retirement, he learned about the special exercise classes that were offered by Power for Parkinson's at a location near his home. He became a regular attendee and made friends with others who were on a similar journey. One member shared his passion for music, and they developed a deep friendship. This friend, often accompanied by his wife, would come to Greg's home bringing with him his cell phone and two small but powerful speakers. They would sit in the living room, playing songs which reverberated off the walls while eating freshly baked cookies.

Greg learned about an online music course titled "Beyond High C," conducted through Zoom and facilitated by Kierstan Kannister. The participants were a group of people who, like Greg, were dealing with struggles resulting from neuromuscular or neurological challenges. They became friends using table drums and other instruments. They talked, sang, and built a bond that made Greg feel good. As he put it, "I have a great time. It never fails to lift my spirits."

So much more could be said about Greg. He was a kind, caring, multitalented young man who will be missed by those whose lives he touched. He was predeceased by his grandfather, John Robert "Rod" Selvidge (after whom he was named); his grandmother, Betty Catherine Neal Selvidge; his aunt, Martha "Marcy" Selvidge; his father, Robert Jay Silver; and his uncle, Jerry Koral. He is survived by his sister, Julie Silver (husband, Dante Montsevai); his aunt, Lois Koral; and cousins, Kathy and Jennifer. As for his mother, Diane, she says that his death has left a deep hole that is impossible to fill. "He was my heart. I find comfort in reading one of his poems."

"I Can't Play With You Anymore"

It's been a real blast hanging out, swapping stories fanciful and true.

But I've done all I can to light many loads.

Forces greater than myself have announced that I can't play with you anymore.

Hopefully we'll meet up again laughing at how our residence down here was a mere opening act.

In preparation for the amazing show ahead.

You needn't be overly sad; I've got faith that the tragedy isn't forever.

We're meant for something special.

Fear comes from not knowing exactly what.

And not being allowed to come back to explain.

Don't bother with guarded optimism.

How can bright light penetrate if your blinders are too tightly bound?

Transition starts now.

I'm confident we will play again later.

Greg Silver