As the Greenpoint Gazette reports, Ray Abeyta passed away in a tragic motorcycle accident this past Sunday. Talking to 56-year-old Ray, who arrived in New York from New Mexico in 1986, was like talking to Williamsburg royalty. His imprint was everywhere: he was a partner at fixtures like the bars Union Pool and Hotel Delmano as well as the motorcycle shop Works Engineering. He was an an astonishing artist, with works around town and across the country. He was also a father of two.
Regulars outtake, August of 2013.
On that day I met with Ray, we talked about the untimely death of his friend (another Williamsburg luminary Colin Devlin, owner of the now defunct restaurant DuMont), the rapidly changing neighborhood, and one of his favorite things to do: “bombin’ around Brooklyn” on his 1968 Triumph.
Last night Ray got a proper send-off from friends and family. His ashes were placed in his truck, which lead a parade of fellow bikers from Black Bear bar to Union Pool where everybody was welcome to celebrate his life.
Thanks, Ray. Brooklyn is not the same without you.
It is odd, the timing of it all. Within a few years, Zebulon closes, the guy from Dumont commits suicide, this person dies, Death by Audio is forced out by Vice, which becomes a well-endowed media empire. There’s a Russian novel in there somewhere. Or it’s like that part in Fear and Loathing where HST talks about the hippies being like a wave that hit its peak, then leaving a watermark, and sinking back down again. Maybe I’ll go to that Starbucks on Union & Ainslie and mull that over a bit.
Wow, what a lost for the hood!
Ray was a great part of my wedding on Sep. 27th of this year. He drove me on his car to the party. I was able to meet him and talk to him for a little while but we had such a great time. This is so sad. R.I.P.
Not too long ago we with a number of friends sat at the back of Sweetwater talking and drinking. One thing that was clear and so beautiful is that I was in the presence of a true gentleman, respectful of fellow men and appreciative of women, adoring to children. Lucky me to have had that last conversation.