I never met Jeremy James O’Brien, who made this sign. And I wouldn’t have known of him if it wasn’t for a recent conjunction of circumstances so unlikely as to be almost uncanny yet at the same time entirely characteristic of the Buffalo area where no one is really more than one or two degrees of separation from anyone else.
But before I get into that, because I want this to be more about Jeremy and his message than me, see this lovely tribute page and what is written about him there by people who did know him:
Jeremy J. O’Brien, born July 9 1974, raised in Depew, New York, passed in his home in June of 2026.
Jeremy was the deeply loved son of Joanne Wilkovich and Joseph O’Brien, proud protector of his sisters, Julie and Jennifer, joke-filled Uncle to Mayson, Zoë and Matthew, as well as selfless friend, mentor and confidant to an innumerable many.
Jeremy was a mindful community member, a colorfully creative artist, a wordsmithing poet, a snowboarding instructor, a masterful skateboarder (into his 50s!) an effervescent philosopher, teacher, and spontaneous traveler who inspired many.
Jeremy’s family would love to host all who knew him for a celebration of his life on August 8th, 2026 in Depew’s Fireman’s Park from 4pm to 9pm.
Below is one of Jeremy’s most poignant quotes.
Too much cleansing washes too clean. If we wash ourselves to purity, we become very susceptible to soil.
Jeremy J. O’Brien, 1974–2026
My connection here began the day I saw Jeremy’s sign: June 11. It was day three of the “Big Boy” steam engine’s visit to Buffalo, and I needed to head to Depew with the Buffalo Rising camera to capture its departure on Norfolk Southern’s Southern Tier Line.
But things came up that morning and by the time I was ready to head out I only had 45 minutes to get from the west side to Depew—by bike. “That ain’t happenin’,” I thought. So instead of wasting two hours of my day missing a train, maybe I should say home and get some other work done. But in the end I decided to give it a shot and, after using up one of my cyclist nine lives by biking on Walden through Cheektowaga, got to my destination in exactly 45 minutes.
After photographing the Big Boy I decided, because of where I was, it would be a good opportunity to go see some of the abandoned West Shore rail line near the airport. Why? I’ve been involved in some rail planning recently, and this line is often discussed as a potential route for a future Metro Rail extension to the airport. To get there meant biking on Dick Road, which would use up another one of my cyclist nine lives, but it was a nice day so I headed north.
Just after biking by a mega-Wegmans (isn’t there always a mega-Wegmans?) I saw this sign in front of an apartment building:
At first I took note of it and kept going, intent on my mission. But something made me want to turn back and grab a picture of it.
What was that something? The sign seemed to speak simply but directly to something I’ve been noticing a lot lately: people, especially on social media, being down on themselves. While stress and the distress of political, economic, and social upheaval has affected and afflicted everyone, I’m seeing a trend among some of even questioning their value. It’s especially disconcerting to see that happening with people who I know are very capable, intelligent, talented, and have an awful lot going for them.
People sometimes preface their remarks with “I don’t know who needs to hear this…” but I did know some people who needed to hear this.
So I turned around, went back, parked my bike, sat on the grass to get a good angle, took a picture of the sign, and tweeted it out with the message, “Don’t make me tap the sign again.”
I posted this on Twitter (@HeyRaChaCha) and also Bluesky (@RaChaCha.bsky.social), where I find I actually get far more engagement these days. And sure enough, I got no response on Twitter but on Bluesky got an almost immediate reply: “Nope – you gotta keep tapping. Sorry.”
Someone who says that is exactly the kind of person who needs the message, right? So I decided to “keep tapping”—sharing the picture of the sign occasionally. Which I did this week:
But this time I got a completely unexpected response. One of my tweeps, Jeff, replied:
“I know the person who put this sign up. He died at that apartment complex last month. Warms my heart that he is still uplifting others to this day.”
Wow! Chills. I asked about the sign maker and Jeff told me this:
“Yes he died in his apt June 3rd. Great friend from HS. Had his demons, but he spent a lot of time the last few years giving back. I saw this and didn’t realize he put it up until a mutual friend pointed out it was his handiwork. He was living in that complex at the time.”
Chills again. The person who put the sign up died exactly a week before I happened to bike by and saw it. The apartment complex, or someone mowing the lawn, could have taken down the sign but didn’t. Personally, I hope they leave it there until it falls apart.
Jeff also shared a link to the signmaker’s tribute page, from which I learned his name: Jeremy James O’Brien from Depew.
As for Jeremy’s message, I hope that sign stays in place for a long time. But the message also needs to be shared in other places. I’d buy one of those signs and put it in my yard if they were available. That message would also look good on a billboard, don’t you think?
And I’ll keep sharing Jeremy’s sign and message on social media. Because Jeremy James O’Brien—who mattered to a lot of people, even those who never knew him—wanted you to know that you matter. Especially in a place where there is no more than a degree or two of separation between any of us, you matter to so many people and your life touches so many people—even people you may not know.
And don’t you forget it.