Although just 10 months apart, Tyler Joyce was not just my older cousin. He felt like another brother of mine. We were together essentially from birth and throughout the years, that didn’t change. There were the constant sleepovers that went on for days on end in the summer and we were always excited to see each other at family events. We spent a lot of our childhoods together creating lifelong memories, from trips to Canobie Lake Park and Water Country every summer to using our youthful minds to create wacky, fun scenarios with the bins of toys we had. We would create funny, or so we thought, videos for our YouTube channel in the hopes of becoming the next big viral stars and go around Saugus causing havoc with his friends. Sure, we had a few fights from being around each other so often, but eventually we would hug, make up, and act like nothing had happened.
Tyler was someone I looked up to, and I thought he was one of the funniest people alive. The way he could easily make friends and adapt to any social situation was something I was slightly envious of at the time, but respect now. Something I do know is that he always had my back, in real life and in “Call of Duty” Zombies, a game we spent countless hours playing together and bonding over. Video games were something that we heavily connected with. For him, it was “The Legend of Zelda,” “Pokemon,” “Mario,” and “Sonic.” I was more into racing and wrestling games. Even though our interests in video games didn’t exactly align, we still played them all because we were spending time together. I will also add that we were quite popular in the virtual worlds of Habbo Hotel and Club Penguin.
Around ninth grade was when we started to slightly drift apart. Not that I wanted to, but I had noticed changes in him and the people he had started to hang around. I knew that if I continued to hang out with him I’d most likely eventually hang out with his new friends, who were troublesome, and it was a situation that I did not want to put myself in. In hindsight, it was probably for the best, as I was more prone to peer pressure back then. I wouldn’t say Tyler was ever the most well-behaved child, but around this time he started to get into more trouble. One time, I was woken up at 5 a.m. to find him outside my house throwing snowballs at my window to get my attention to let him in. After he left home, my parents decided to allow him to move into our house for the time being. Something I remember clearly, besides waking up in the morning for school and tripping over him since he slept on my bedroom floor, was when I told him the snacks in the fridge were mine and asked him not to eat them. Of course he ate some. I didn’t talk to him for days after that. Gushers are serious business. Eventually we made up after he used his humor and wit to persuade me to forgive him. He later moved in with my aunt Terry for quite a few years. Thank you, Terry, for helping put a roof over his head for all that time.
For years, Tyler struggled with alcohol and drug addiction. As quickly as it took him to recover, it was almost as quick for him to relapse time after time. For a time, I was hurt, as he would only contact me for rides and money. Eventually, he had to use burner phone numbers to call me as I wouldn’t answer his calls, as I knew what they would be about anyway. Something I refused to do was to give him money, which would most likely go toward drugs or alcohol, or give him a ride somewhere he could possibly overdose. If he had needed a ride to a counseling session, to the hospital, or from detox, I would help him.
The last time I saw Tyler was on his birthday on Jan. 12, 2021. I went to visit him and watched as he played “Mario Party,” and we chatted for a little bit. I had thought he was clean at the time since he told me he was, but I don’t know if he was or not. On Oct. 5, 2021 I got a phone call from my mom at 6:30 a.m. telling me that someone posted on Facebook that Tyler had died due to fentanyl. The night before, I saw a post from that person saying that two of his friends had died of fentanyl, but he didn’t give their names. I didn’t think it was Tyler, so I went to bed. I had thought Tyler was invincible after witnessing him have seizures and fall through the ice at the Saugus Reservoir and escape. I just thought he knew what he was doing.
I wrote this on the Solimine Tribute Wall:
“Rest in Paradise Tyler. It still feels so surreal that you’re gone. Thank you for being an amazing big cousin and best friend. I was just talking with your mom about how we set the apartment on fire and how we gave her a panic attack when we snuck out the house when she was getting Brian onto the school bus. Also can’t forget all the sleepovers we would have together almost every week. Seeing your fights with Tre’Jon and Brian, and the good times. To the countless hours we would spend killing zombies together. To the countless hours we would spend making YouTube videos and editing them hoping to become huge stars. To running around Saugus with you and your friends and being bad kids. To all the family gatherings, Christmas Eve parties, Water Country trips, and more. I’ll never forget how excited you were for that McDonald’s to open up on Route 1 next to the Walmart. You wouldn’t stop talking about your dad coming to pick you up and go there to get your cheeseburgers and fries. There’s so many memories to write about, but I don’t wanna fill up a whole page. You’ll never be gone to me, and I know one day we’ll see each other again. I love you so much.”’
A month after his death, I decided to start a nonprofit organization to help raise awareness for addiction, anxiety, and depression. That’s when I started the Shooting Stars Project. After taking a hiatus, I decided to bring my attention back to the cause. The Shooting Stars Project has released a limited-edition shirt for $15, with the help of An Obstruction of Art, in order to raise money to donate to the Northshore Recovery High School in Beverly. All of the profits made from shirt purchases will be donated. I aim to raise $2,000 for NRHS. Thank you to Lauren DiMarco, Carolina Cubero, Kelly Portillo, Mirna Portillo, and Ferns Francois for volunteering their time to model the shirts.
Rare. Beautiful. Divine.
You are on the right path.
