From Michael Vigil Jr.
Oct. 26, 2011

I found out about Joe's passing yesterday evening. The breathe was taken out of me of the news considering that when I first met this man his lips were passionately locked to his bride to be in San francisco. As a fan of love, I was envious and happy for him. I wanted to see true love grow and prosper. I met Joey on the level of music. We were at a party in Redwood City. He seemed to be in great spirits and he was strong yet gentle and kind in words and compliments. I remember him liking a song by the Script and I was happy to sing it to him and his bride to be. I looked forward to seeing him again and talking about music... Music lives through all of us who are passionate about life. I was told he was someone who followed his heart and grew up in a Catholic family. A background all to familiar to myself. Joe, the meeting was my pleasure. See you on the other side. Yes, I understand that every life must end, aw-huh,.. As we sit alone, I know someday we must go, aw-huh,.. Oh I'm a lucky man, to count on both hands the ones I love,.. Some folks just have one, yeah, others, they've got none, huh-uh Stay with me,.. Let's just breathe. Practiced are my sins, never gonna let me win, aw-huh,.. Under everything, just another human being, aw-huh,.. Yeah, I don't wanna hurt, there's so much in this world to make me bleed. Stay with me,.. You're all I see. Did I say that I need you? Did I say that I want you? Oh, if I didn't I'm a fool you see,.. No one knows this more than me. As I come clean. I wonder everyday as I look upon your face, aw-huh,.. Everything you gave And nothing you would take, aw huh,.. Nothing you would take Everything you gave... Did I say that I need you? Oh, did I say that I want you? Oh, if I didn't I'm a fool you see,.. No one knows this more than me. As I come clean, ah-ah... Nothing you would take,.. Everything you gave. Love you till I die,.. Meet you on the other side.

From Lindol French
July 23, 2011

I found out about Joe Morey's passing around noon on Monday. I was in Jackson Hole with a bunch of new friends, none of whom had the pleasure of knowing Joey. There was no one with whom I could share the burden of the loss. So I didn't. I allowed myself a few minutes of grief, then I put it aside, to be dealt with later. Over the next few days, each day I allowed myself a little time to wallow in the loss: I shared a phone call with Josh Stern; a few messages with Mike Yeager and Henry Portner; one good, if brief, cry after reading a particularly touching post by Steve Sequeira. Thursday afternoon I left Jackson Hole. Friday morning, grief came calling to collect on his debt. As I sat, openly weeping on a park bench in Steamboat Springs, passersby granting me a WIDE berth, I was moved to write, again inspired by Mr. Sequeira. This is what came out: Joe Morey wasn't one of my closest friends. We didn't chat on the phone, or help each other move, or bitch to each other about our jobs or cry on each others shoulders. He wasn't one of my closest friends. . . but he was most certainly one of my best friends. Now, traditionally, "best friend" and "closest friend" are used almost interchangeably. That doesn't make any sense to me. Proximity has nothing to do with quality. If Joey was your friend on any level, he was one of your best friends, because friends just don't get any better than Joe Morey. I first met Joey when we were on the same Senior Minors baseball team. I remember thinking he must have been one of the oldest players in the league with his permanent five o'clock shadow and the easy, confident way he had about him. As it turned out, he was one of the youngest. We became good friends while on that team, almost 20 years ago, and have remained so ever since. Even when we went years without seeing each other. In the decade plus that followed our introduction, we may have seen each other a half dozen times. Different grades, different schools, different cities, different lives got in the way, and as I said, we were never that close. Of course, none of that mattered when we did see each other. The same huge smile, same big hug, same infectious laugh. (What a laugh he had. It was almost like a cackle, but that term implies a mean-spirited or harsh quality that most assuredly wasn't there. A warm, mirthful cackle? Someone else can probably do it more justice than I.) You never wondered "Is this guy really happy to see me?". Then, after nearly a dozen years of hardly ever seeing each other, in 2003, newbie amateur Chris Moneymaker won the World Series of Poker, the Texas Hold'em craze began, and I started seeing Joe regularly. Joe was an absolute delight to play cards with. Not because he was an easy mark, far from it. He won more than his share of tourneys, many of which he hosted himself. No, Joe was so much fun at the table because he didn't so much play cards as he swashbuckled them. Fast and Loose thought he was a wildcard. That being said he never threw a tantrum, he took his bad beats as well as anyone, and he was always laughing, win or lose. I wish I could say the same about myself. I have no idea how much money I've lost since I started playing hold'em, but it's a number, and it's not inconsiderable. Whatever it may be, it was worth every penny, and more, for the time I got to spend with Joe. In 2009, not long before I went galavanting across the country on a 140 day road trip, I got to hang out with Joey and Carole. I believe that they had only recently begun seeing each other, but it was immediately apparent how wildly smitten they were with each other. I can't even tell you how touched, and stoked, I was when the pair invited me to their wedding a few months later. I certainly did not expect the invitation. I returned home from my trip just in time to attend the Morey's wedding. It was perfect. The ceremony sweet, short, and finished off with the theme from Star Wars. The bride and groom were both aglow, the company was top notch, the food was great, the music was dope (natch) and the dance floor was popping. They even left a tv on in a side room so we could watch Oregon's epic comeback win over Arizona. I don't know that I've ever enjoyed a wedding more. (Maybe Jojo and Mike Duffy's, but, of course, Joey was spinning at that one.) The past two years I have lived outside of the Bay Area but come home every few months. Many of my visits home have included a stop at the Moreys. (often on the way to, or from, the taco truck. I would call him up or shoot him a text, giving him maybe 20 minutes warning. If he was home, he would always tell me to come on over. Never once did I get a "now's not really a good time", a "I wish you woulda given me more of a heads up", or an "I'm washing my hair". "Sure man, come on over". I'd stop in, we'd hug it out in the doorway or on the porch, he'd offer me some food or drink (usually both), we'd watch whatever game was on and shoot the breeze for 15 minutes or two hours. The last few times I went over, I got to see him with his bride and his beautiful baby girl. The ever-present twinkle in his eye was never as present as it was when he was holding Alessandra. I consider myself lucky to have seen him as a father. All of the characteristics that made Joey such a wonderful friend served him double, (treble?) as a father. And it is so easy to see Joey in Alessandra. I've never seen a more at ease, comfortable, happy youngster than she. She is every bit her father's daughter, right down to the mischievous twinkle in her eye. Last Monday was July 18th, my birthday. For as many years as i have left, wherever I may be on that day, I will be celebrating not just my lucking into another year on this planet, but the life of one of the kindest souls I've ever known, and one of the best friends I've ever had. I love you Joey. See you on the other side.

From Debbie Brooks
July 22, 2011

Rest with the angels Joe. Your angelic spirit will be remembered by all who knew you. God Bless all your family forever.