How a New Jersey congregation came to bless a grieving mother who lost her son in the nation’s worst mass shooting.
By Bobby Ross Jr. | The Christian Chronicle
ORLANDO, Fla. — “It’s been a while, man,” said my friend Jose Luis Cintrón, who lives in Fort Worth, Texas.
Thirty years, to be exact.
Sadly, I called after all these years because my friend just lost his nephew, Peter “Ommy” Gonzalez-Cruz, in the mass shooting that claimed 49 lives at a gay nightclub in Orlando.
Back in 1986 — my senior year at Keller High School, north of Fort Worth — Cintrón and I were part of a tight-knit group of friends that included his twin brother, Tony, and my brother, Scott.
We roamed the same school hallways. We worked together at a McDonald’s restaurant. On our off nights, we hung out — seeing movies like “Top Gun” and “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off,” playing co-ed softball and cruising in our super-cool cars, such as the gray 1980 Ford Pinto with manual transmission that Scott and I shared.
“Those were fun days,” Cintrón said as we reminisced before talking about his family’s unfathomable loss.
This is the third of a three-part series in The Christian Chronicle.