I wanted to share this with you all. Have a good weekend.
Reposted from the web.... Rap World Baffled by Killing of Star With Peaceful Image By ALAN FEUER At the Hut barbershop in eastern Queens, they said it best. Jam Master Jay could have left the neighborhood years ago, but he never did. He could have bought a fleet of limousines, but he liked to get around on his own two feet. He could have easily forgotten everyone from Hollis and Jamaica, but forgetting was not his style. "He was in Queens, of Queens, and for Queens," Reggie Edwards, a barber, said. "The man was paying people's rent." And giving Christmas parties. And turning up at local parades. And helping young rappers get record deals. His roadies and assistants were men he had known for years. "His studio was open to the neighborhood, 24-7," said Eleta Boone, a family friend. "Anyone who worked with Jay was someone from the 'hood." It was at that studio =97 a second-floor loft on Merrick Boulevard in Jamaica =97 that Jam Master Jay, a D.J. for the rap group Run-DMC, was shot to death on Wednesday night. The D.J., whose real name was Jason Mizell, 37, was killed by an unidentified gunman. As investigators tried to solve the killing, the rap world, long plagued by the violent deaths of some of its stars, struggled with its own puzzle: Who would want to kill Jam Master Jay, a peaceable, old-school D.J., whose group rapped about sneakers, girls and basketball, not money, guns and drugs? Like the other two members of Run-DMC, Jam Master Jay earned admiration and respect by staying in his neighborhood and remaining true to it. That he should meet the same bloody end that befell gangsta rappers like Tupac Shakur and the Notorious B.I.G. was, to his fans, both heartbreaking and unfathomable. "He wasn't the thug type," said Daryl Jenkins, 24, a record store clerk and a fan. "That's why it's sad. He had nothing to do with that whole gangsta thing." Mr. Jenkins had taken the day off from work to stand on the street outside the studio. Bouquets of roses and memorial candles lay near the yellow crime-scene tape. Women dabbed at their eyes, and men shook their heads, disgusted. Someone left behind a single Adidas sneaker, a signature part of Run-DMC's wardrobe. It bore the inscription "R.I.P. JMJ." Jam Master Jay's wife and the two other members of Run-DMC =97 Joseph Simmons (Run) and Darryl McDaniels (DMC) =97 released statements yesterday. "Jay's tragic death has left all of us numb," said his wife, Teri Mizell. "We pray that the person or persons responsible for taking away the breath from this loving husband and wonderful father is captured and prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law." In his statement, Mr. McDaniels said: "He stuck to the true essence of what a D.J. in a hip-hop performance should be. The whole music industry has lost a great talent. I always thought we would be together forever." The rap world's aristocracy was shocked and baffled by the sudden killing of a man who had helped found a musical group so influential that some called them the Beatles of hip-hop. "Jam Master Jay was a pioneer," Sean Combs, the rapper and entrepreneur, said in a statement. "He led the way for a whole new genre of talent." Run-DMC was the first rap act with videos on MTV and the first to have an album go platinum, "King of Rock." The next album, "Raising Hell," was released in 1986 and contained a remake of Aerosmith's heavy-metal anthem "Walk This Way," which was the first commercially successful blending of rap and rock. Instead of profanity-laced, nihilistic rhymes about pistols and police brutality, the group wrote danceable, sunny lyrics. Throughout the day, fans posted their most intimate emotions on thadweb.com/rundmc, a Web site on the rap group, and some of them addressed Jam Master Jay directly. "Jay, your legacy is one of beauty, beats, love, hope and funk," wrote one fan. "Maybe one day we can bring hip-hop back to its roots. Until then, I'm gonna dig through my crates for your old funky tapes and mourn a man who brought joy to my soul." Another fan was more succinct: "Run-DMC and Jam Master Jay have been the soundtrack to my life. I'm too destroyed to say anything else. This is my worst nightmare." Nowhere was the grief more keenly felt, however, than in Hollis, a middle-class community off the Grand Central Parkway, where Mr. Mizell grew up. He was living with his wife, Teri, and his three children in an unassuming two-story cedar-shingle house on a quiet street in Hollis Hill a few blocks away. In recent years, Jam Master Jay gradually shifted from performing on stage to acting as a sort of local talent scout. More recently, he founded the Scratch D.J. Academy, where students learn D.J. techniques. One of his finds was a group called Rusty Waters, whose record he was producing in the studio the night he was shot. He often gave time to 14-and-15-year-old aspiring rappers, listening to their demo tapes and making suggestions, his friends said. He first scratched on the turntables himself in the basement of his family's house on 203rd Street. Yesterday, friends and relatives filtered in and out of the house all afternoon, offering condolences to the D.J.'s sister, Bonita Jones, 44. Every car that pulled to the curb, it seemed, had his music playing on the radio. Inside, in the darkened living room, Ms. Jones sat on the couch receiving visitors, damp-eyed and next to a white stuffed bear. A young boy, perhaps unaware that the family was in mourning, ran through the downstairs rooms in a Spider-Man Halloween costume. "He stayed here because of me," she said, drying her eyes. "A long time ago, his wife wanted to move out of New York, but he said, `I'm not leaving my sister.' That's the man he was." Ms. Jones said that although her brother traveled frequently =97 to Puerto Rico, Europe, California =97 he was always home for the holidays. "He might be a thousand miles away," she said, "but he'd be home in time for Christmas." Ms. Boone, the family friend, stood beside her nodding, then suddenly stormed up the staircase and switched on the radio. Within seconds, "It's Like That," one of Run-DMC's earliest hits, was pumping through the house. Ms. Jones was swaying her shoulders, dancing as she sat. When the song came to an end, there was a moment of silence, and then the D.J. broke in, saying, "Rest in peace, Jam Master Jay." Ms. Jones was still moving her shoulders, though, dancing through her tears. =3D=3D=3D=3D=3D Kevin Amos
