Larry Good was born December 10th, 1946. A polio survivor, he would say his body was a circus. But his death was unexpected and stunning.
Pops was a mighty man. In his first phase of life, he was a dynamic and relentless shark - a work animal - always in attack mode, driven by the fears and anxieties of growing up in a brutal Texas orphanage, without a mother and with an illiterate father who signed his name with an X, and let him and his brothers languish and boil there.
He fought the first legacy of his polio - a completely emaciated right leg - by putting up his middle finger to the world, smiling, and outworking god. With one functioning leg, he taught himself to walk without limping, became a golfer/hustler, a boxer, a drag car racer, and even played football.
His adult existence was a cinematic roller coaster of drama, fortunes gained and lost, fights, crazy circumstances and encounters, failed relationships; and still, always, love and fun. He willed it so.
In his second phase, he navigated post-polio syndrome. His body methodically, cruelly, disintegrated, rendering him disabled - while also, generously, sustaining longer than we imagined it could. He became a proud Angeleno (we moved him to LA in 2006), Aggressive Progressive, and unyielding Dodger/Laker fan, while maintaining our love/hate loyalty to the Cowboys. As relentless in his constant learning as he was conquering the treacherous waters of his early life, he evolved from shark to peaceful warrior.
He knew he was lucky. The man who hoped to just see his twins become adults lasted long enough to have four adult sons, four daughters-in-law, a step-daughter, and eight grandchildren. He died in his tiny apartment downtown, surrounded by pictures of his family, a rich man.
He was the funniest, charismatic soul you could ever meet - and it was real. He was generous, charming, brilliant, challenging, courageous and bold. He was an incredible fighter - whose struggle with the demons of his childhood and the constant obstacles of his body provided us with a model of humility, grace and persistence. He was unique.
Poppy loved gospel music (though he was atheist), Patsy Cline, Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson…and Elvis. He embraced Elvis’ “TCB” (Taking Care of Business) mantra and logo; and throughout our lives, whether screaming it from the stands, closing out a pep talk when we were headed into something big or something scary, or in a whisper in our ears before picking up a mic…he would always say, “TCB, Baby Boy…I love you more than anything in the world.”
We love you more than anything in the world, Poppy - and will miss you forever. TCB.
- The Sons and Family of Poppy