Bryan Vana

Still trying, and failing, to accept that Jon is gone. He was an incredibly bright and spirited person, and it’s hard to imagine his huge grin not greeting me for a long-overdue hang.

We met around the time I started skateboarding, maybe 2002. By the time I finished high school he was fully immersed in our friend group in Westminster—we all had worked together, gone to shows together, camped together, and skated a ton, obviously. He was always up for some spontaneous way-out-of-the-way mission during which he would blast the car stereo, windows down, smoking cigs, laughing and talking shit… he was one of my favorite cussers.

It was assumed that if you were with Jon you would be getting him in full effect. Whatever he was doing, he was doing it 150%. To the absolute max. Loving skating, books, music and people to the extreme and insisting everyone else match his intensity. It could be exhausting trying to keep pace with him.

We had some great summers that I’ll remember for the rest of my life—skating on the weekends, swimming across the reservoir, literally jumping off cliffs to get that hit of adrenaline. I have a number of photos from this period that are hazy, soaked with light leaks and sunshine. You can hear the cicadas, feel the humidity. Those weekends are how I prefer to remember Jon, seizing every minute of his time off to feel everything as much as he possibly could.

I’m so grateful that we were still in touch, and glad that he passed skateboarding down to his son Nate. I know that the feeling of skating with Nate was priceless to him. It was a joy to watch them together.

Wishing hard that we’d had one last roll around the park. I’d like to think he’s sitting on a real long 5-0 fakie somewhere…

Love you, buddy. Miss you.

Jonathan William Maffucci
December 19, 1986 - January 7, 2023