Jason Gill-Best was 30 years old when he died in Detroit, Michigan. He was a Black man, and the simplest facts of his identity—his name, his age, his hometown—carry a weight that is hard to put into words, because they point to a full life that existed beyond a line of text. A person is never just a set of details. He was someone who moved through real streets, under real skies, with people who knew his laugh, recognized his footsteps, and could pick him out in a crowd without trying.
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