James Allen Lamar's Obituary
JAMES ALLEN LAMAR was born on June 28, 1972. He was named after James Lasley Lamar his paternal great uncle, who was a POW in the Hanoi Hilton, and his maternal grandmother H. Maxine Allen. He was an easy baby, slept through the night at 3 months. When he asked for something to eat and he was told no, we are eating very soon, he would accept the outcome. When he was tired he would find a place to sleep no matter where we were: the beach, at home or camping. Finding him was the challenge. I once found him in the floor of his closet and a scarier time he was sleeping in the car. I found him there when I was about to begin a search of the neighborhood and the pond down the road.
His first international travel was to the Philippines in December of 1974. We lived at the Marmont Hotel in Olongapo for six months. There was a beautiful pool there with a fountain of a cherub urinating. Jim was found there doing the same. He was 2.5 and became a great swimmer. We were at the pool or the beach everyday. Being a toe-head, the Filipinos wanted to touch his blonde hair as it would bring them good luck. He learned to walk down the street with his hands on his head saying, "no,no!"
Jim was devastated when his father and I divorced in December of 1982. I would find him staring at a family portrait. He bought a Christmas ornament package and with the stickers put, "The Lamar Family" on it. "Do it for the family" was his motto. He loved our family days at the beach, boogie boarding and cooking hot dogs and laughing at the older kids playing "chubby bunny". Jim had a great attitude. He was so easy to be with not only in his younger years, but even later in life. Even in jail, he engaged in conversation about our lives and ALWAYS thanked us for visiting.
The girls in junior high thought he resembled Tony Hawk, a famous skateboarder. Jim was a very good amateur skate boarder. They would follow him home excitedly calling out and yelling. Jim would come in one door and go out another and they would stand outside calling for him until I would run them off.
Soon after this, Jim's life started to become unwound. He became involved in alcohol, was skipping high school and I tried to discourage his skate boarding, imagining that that "alcohol druggy group" was wrong for him. It seemed like the more I intervened the more off balance our lives became. I became involved with a group called Tough Love. Eventually I took Jim to Charter Hospital where he stayed a few months until he was nearly 18. They claimed he did not want help and he was discharged. I felt like I was living a nightmare.
I was advised to pursue my life and was happy to comply. Jim was now 18 and I no longer had legal control of him. I had just completed my bachelor's degree and went on to the University of Hawaii to complete my master's degree in International Public Health and from there on to the Peace Corps in Honduras from 1993-1995.
When I returned Jim was in jail. In those two years he had driven back and forth to Arkansas living part time with his father. His brother had tried to help him by buying him work boots he needed for a job and gathering him up for holidays. Jim was probably mentally ill then but not yet diagnosed. He eventually ended up in prison for a collection of several minor offenses and an attempted escape and that is where he was diagnosed. My initial reaction was that he was not mentally ill, it was a way to control a young male alcoholic. And then it became real. Jim was diagnosed with schizo-affective disorder (schizophrenia and bi-polar). The good news: Jim's bi-polar affect was more manic than depressed. He took medications and lived in Board and Cares or in the streets for the next 27 years.
He was generous to a fault. Whenever he had money he would, "Buy the guys a pizza." He gave pan handlers money because "they needed it". And he knew that from experience. Our last time together was late September 2022. Jim was recently out of jail and living in a Board and Care in Spring Valley. I went to visit him, he was not around, last seen at the 7-11 a few blocks away. I went there. He was sitting on the ground leaning up against the building playing an imaginary guitar, very content. He saw me, gave a huge smile, picked up a bag of food and got in the car. " Where did the food come from?" I asked. "Some guy bought it and gave it to me," he said. It was a sandwich, cup of fruit and bottle of water.
A few days later we went to the Miramar Air Show to see the Blue Angels fly. JIM LOVED THE BLUE ANGELS. Of course we could not get in because Jim did not have an ID. Our car was parked on the Miramar golf course, so we watched the show from there. We had shade and grass and we had a wonderful day. Watching him have such fun is a treasured memory. That is the last time I was with him in person. Soon after that he missed a parole meeting because he was living in the streets again. He was outside the El Cajon Court House wondering if he should go in all filthy dirty and decided not to do it. A warrant was issued for his arrest and he was back in jail on November 17, 2022.
Jim was fearless. He snow skied at full speed, drove my dingy at full speed and jet-skied at full speed. Because our birthdays were one week apart, we often spent them together. He would fly to Miami, he would jet ski, celebrate July 4th and my birthday. We would go to the beach and baseball games and I would deal with his high energy level for 10 days, that was my limit. He visited my boat "Quest" many Thanksgivings. I always had to prepare the citizens of each destination for Jim's unfiltered comments. I had told the "rasta" taxi driver in Grenada that we were picking up my mentally ill son at the airport and I was not sure of what he would say. An officially dressed woman came out of the airport calling my name. She needed the address where Jim would be staying. Once in the cab Jim asked, "Mom, are we in deepest darkest Africa?" The " rasta" guy nearly fell out of the cab he laughed so hard.
The Mental Health, Judicial, and Law Enforcement systems failed Jim and others like him moment by moment. In 2021 Jim was coming unraveled at the Board and Care where he was living. Many calls had been made to the police but each time they said, "not an arrestible offense." Jim's dedicated and caring case manager for 20 years, Rosa, was trying to have him committed to the County Mental Hospital, Jim would not go voluntarily. The only way to send someone to a mental hospital if they will not go is to have the police take him. Rosa presented a thorough history of Jim's declining behavior in a session at the El Cajon Police Department begging them to take him. They would not budge. Soon after that meeting, one of the other client's in the same Board and Care nagged at Jim to give him a cigarette. Jim told him he had one left and would not give it away. The nagging continued and then Jim lost it and started punching the guy. THAT IS WHEN the police came and Jim was arrested for assault.
During the last few months of Jim's last year in jail, he was put into a competency program where he studied the court system with the idea he would be competent to stand trial. He had a workbook that he read and questions and tests that he was passing. There was a new spark of life in his eyes. He talked about reading again and that he was enjoying flying magazines. We talked about plans for his future in a live-in program where he would have a better quality of life and more individualized structure than the Board and Cares can provide. There was renewed hope.
After two weeks of searching, the Public Defenders failed to find a place for Jim to live. I made a phone call to a previous Board and Care to find temporary shelter in El Cajon. It was available on Monday. The trial was Friday, December 15, Jim was released that day at 8:22pm from jail without identification and I do not know yet what else. He was found unresponsive at the downtown trolley stop to El Cajon. Was he going to make it this time?
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Share a story where James' kindness touched your heart.
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