I’ve lived around or in Philadelphia nearly my entire life. Like everyone else in this city, I’ve met many, many people I’ve forgotten quickly in the wash of time, only rarely to think of them again and wonder what became of them.

From time to time, I encounter someone, if only briefly, who makes a mark in my psyche and sometimes even changes my life, at least in some small way.

The first time this happened, I was a young Cub Scout in 1975, visiting the set of ‘Dialing for Dollars’ at Channel 6 on City Line Avenue, singing Christmas carols with the audience on-camera with my troop. After watching several tapings of the show, we met the master of ceremonies of the little game show, Jim O’Brien. Years later, when I was in high school, he would be killed in a parachute dive, saving someone else’s life but losing his own.

Everyone knew he was a selfless, life-loving person, but I already knew from my brief encounter with him that he was a warm, genuine person who truly enjoyed meeting the nine-year-old Cub Scout who had seen him forecasting the weather and giving away money to callers on Channel Six all his young life. While I was in front of him, he was truly focused on being friendly and positive to an anonymous little boy. I have never forgotten him.

To be truthful, I’ve met – and lost to death – several other people who have been very genuine and warm to me, but when we speak of Philadelphians, there is only one other person besides Jim O’Brien who figures forever in my memory, and that is a wonderfully eccentric and friendly individual we remember in John Rambo, Jr.

When John died shortly after Christmas, 2003, I got the news from a person who knew him much better than I did, but I still knew real sadness. I interacted with John twice, both times at Ulana’s via his weekly event known as ‘The Dark Corner’, which was my very first experience with clubbing in the Goth scene.

On one occasion, he gave me a door prize. He was so positive and personal with guests at his events, a trait which made him famous and beloved to many, was so striking that I knew for certain that he really, really wanted me to have those things. On the other, he was cooperating with my Gothic literature e-zine group, Candelabra Productions (my pen-name was ‘The Alienist’), allowing us to run one of our public events at The Dark Corner. He would do anything to help other people in the scene to expand its perimeter, its community. John wasn’t about John, he was about the wonderful little subculture he had made his own long ago, and the accepting, nonjudgmental people with whom he shared it.

In that moment in which he explained to me the door prizes he was giving me, I did in fact think of Jim O’Brien, sharing something with me and exuding a tremendous personal, positive warmth. John most enjoyed connecting with people one-on-one, as others will attest. He embodied, verily, the friendly, adventurous and accepting character of the Gothic community. His open-handed friendliness and eagerness to help made him memorable to me, and as in the case with Jim O’Brien, I will always hark back to him when I consider these human qualities.

So shall those who spoke with me about John, the mark he made on them, and the community he left behind in the Philadelphia Goth scene.

My fellow Candelabra Productions founder Jennifer Brozenske was the person who first informed me that John had died in a car accident. I asked her, among other things, what appealed so strongly to John Rambo in the Gothic subculture:

“Like so many of us, I think he saw the beauty in decay. He had an understanding of death, and he didn’t shrink from it. He saw beauty in so many things.”

I believe that I will let this stand in my mind as the best description for John’s motivation in everything he did for the Goth scene, aside from his broad creative impulse. He might have been creative in any other venue, but the Goth scene was his muse.

His friend and co-conspirator David Christman elaborates on John’s Goth-sustained creative impulse, and his assistance to fellow travelers, this way:

“John was always a lover of all things spooky and creepy. He had a deep-seated appreciation for horror, Halloween and the macabre. So in reality his love for the Goth lifestyle was an extension of that. He was also a passionate creative type, always elbow-deep into some sort of artistic project. So combining those elements it makes a lot of sense that he would take a dive into supporting creativity through promoting Goth-themed events.”

David also happened to be on hand when John was developing his entrepreneurial connection with the scene, working, where else, but at Halloween Adventure, fifteen years ago:

“Seems just about every Halloween, horror and Goth fan worked there at one time or another. In any case I was also a part of a haunted attraction in the region that he was interested in participating in. I told him to come on down for tryouts, which he did, and he was asked to join the production. That’s when our friendship took root. We had a lot in common including interests in horror, special makeup effects, art and all around spooky things. So we pretty much hit it off right away.”

John’s partner, Evi Numen, tells of John’s connections with the dark side of the world beginning with his very life:

“John was pretty much born Goth. He was nearly born dead as his ribcage was collapsing his lungs as he was delivered. He had to be hung from a hook to allow his lungs to fill with air. He had a large scar on his sternum because of this. His childhood and teenage years was filled with ghost stories and horror movies. He was an avid horror fan and I believe as such he entered the Goth scene. His love of metal music also contributed, but he always had an intense interest in the darker side of life.”

I write this as a very old-school Metalhead who is taking a second chance in the Goth scene because of its superior social character, as well as the obvious cultural overlaps. If I’d known John was a Metalhead back then, I might have made a greater connection with him and, perhaps, the scene. John represents to me, in this respect, what I missed out on because I didn’t get to know this person better. My friend Jennifer, among others, was more privileged:

“Knowing John made me feel like I was on the inside. I belonged to a special group. Little did I know, most people who knew him felt the same way. Maybe that was why we kept coming back, we felt valued.

“…(during events), whenever he had time, he would come and see me to talk about Candelabra or his latest idea. I was very intimidated by him at first, but that was all my own doing. He was a sweetheart once you got to know him. John was an old soul. I think that’s what made him so inviting. He seemed to have seen it all.”

Evi connects this with his promotion of other people’s projects in the Gothic scene:

“John loved the Philadelphia scene. He treated every one of his patrons like a good friend and tried to make them feel welcome. He was very proud of the scene and never shrunk away from the 'Goth' label. He tried to support local bands like Carfax Abbey, with concerts and cd-signing events. He gave a chance to many smaller musicians and helped them in their career by giving them a venue to play and playing their music at his night."

Returning to Jennifer, his naturally friendly vibe and encompassing love for the scene were inherent to his motivations in the business aspect of his participation in Goth:

“Promoting of any kind is a rough job. There’s lots of competition for the same audience. John was supportive of all areas of Goth. He never felt intimidated by new projects, or at least he never showed it. He loved to help things grow. He took chances on bands, giving them a place to play. Even with Candelabra, he was always willing to give us space to set up a few computers. We had several meet-and-greets that garnered us new readership.

As Patrick says about John as an innovative businessman:
“John made a few mistakes early in the game, just like I did, just like everyone does in this business. He learned from them, though, which is not true of everyone. It seemed like John's model for throwing a party was to ask himself ‘what would I really enjoy doing?’ which is a risky place to work from, but can ultimately be very rewarding. Obviously there were other people who enjoyed the same things John enjoyed because they kept attending his events. The fact that he really took pleasure in what he was doing came through in his productions and that sort of thing can bring a very positive energy to an event.”

That said, this retrospective is most likely a good time to make sure the facts are absolutely set straight about the circumstances of John’s passing. As Evi Numen pointed out to me: “Contrary to the rumors that were floating around, John had a negligible amount of alcohol in his system; he had had one light beer with food.

“I was actually in the accident, seated right behind John, in the car,” explains Evi. “We had gone to see a couple of friends’ new apartment and have some food, after the Dark Corner. After a few hours we decided to head back home and John got in the driver‘s seat because the owner of the car wasn’t in a condition to drive. What actually caused the accident was the black ice we hit while making a turn. The car hydroplaned and crushed, literally hugged a utility pole, at the side on which John and I were sitting. He was killed on impact, according to the doctors. I survived with multiple broken bones.”

Many people’s lives where changed in some way upon hearing the news, much as was Jen Brozenske: “I was devastated. Such a wonderful, genuine, warm person taken way before his time. I didn’t cry, not right away. I think I was in shock, like it wasn’t real. I couldn’t imagine him gone. What would happen to everything he created in the Philly scene? It was hard to accept.”

Fortunately, due to the quality of John’s efforts and the spirit with which he imbued all the seeds he planted, there is plenty of evidence of John’s hand in the creation and development of Philly’s Gothic scene today.

We know this “… (because of ) the fact there is (still) a gothic scene and he started it, and everyone continues to acknowledge he pulled them in,” says Ulana, who provided John with the space for The Dark Corner and hosts Shadowland to this day. “He established regular events for the first time, before that there were haphazard parties here and there.”

Evi, John’s partner, told me that John had been throwing parties at Ulana’s between 1999 and 2003. “The Dark Corner was successful enough that John wanted to move it to a larger venue to allow it to grow and he and I had been looking for such a place shortly before his passing.”

David Christman elaborates on the history of John’s drive to build the Gothic scene locally and to develop his ideas:

“John started out at a small club in the Montgomery County area with many of the now-familiar faces that have been associated with his later projects and club nights. When he made the move from that region into Philadelphia he put into motion the plans for an entertainment promotional company, which eventually materialized into the 13th Child Entertainment (named after his favorite urban legend the Jersey Devil).

“His success with that promotion company was by sheer willpower, not only on his part but also on those he entrusted to help him make things happen. Between that willpower and the collective passion for the scene the 13th Child created what is considered by some as one of the most loved club nights in the Philly Goth scene – The Dark Corner.

“The mark John left on the Philly Goth scene is quite substantial and will be felt for many years to come. He gave many of today’s local DJs, performers, artists and many others their chance to make a mark for themselves, including myself. Add to that the fact that his club night The Dark Corner is essentially still going but under the name Shadowland, which is run quite successfully by two of his most avid supporters. Also, one of John’s ambitions to expand into Lancaster has also happened with Shadowland Lancaster, which is organized by DJ Kiltboy, John’s head DJ from The Dark Corner.”

Patrick: “John's lasting mark is first and foremost going to be the many memories of fun times that he enabled so many people to experience. That's one of the best rewards of being a promoter. I think the fact that there is still a weekly Saturday gothic event at Ulana's speaks to the point that John build the foundation of something solid that is still with us today.

"Less cheerfully, but equally as important, I think John's sudden passing continues to remind all of us that the length of our stay here is uncertain at best, and that if we have a desire to do something, we should pursue that desire to the fullest for such time as we are given.”

This remark also illuminates the powerful creative, industrious energy of John’s character, his drive to continually contribute, expand, create in his mission to build a positive – if outwardly dark – subculture whose greatest irony in the face of that apparent dark theme is its positive acceptance of difference. John laid the foundations of the Philadelphia Gothic scene very successfully while he was with us. The quality of his work and of his rapport with his following was such that his funeral was the stuff of legend:

“The funeral was fantastic,” says Ulana. “People came from all over. I never saw that many and it was a week night. You could see how much love there was for this person. Everyone took off work, and it was freezing. He was a major part of their lives.”

“It was an amazing service,” describes Jen Brozenske. “They had these TVs running a video of John’s life. It was really something special. They had home movies and photos of his whole life. I walked up to his casket, and he seemed so peaceful. His hair was still dark brown with bright red tips. It had been something new. It was usually all dark. He was wearing his leather jacket. He was rarely without it. I remember feeling grateful that he looked like himself. I kissed my fingers and touched his. Then I cried. Knowing he was never coming back I finally cried.”

“It was very heartwarming to see how many people were there to pay their respects,” recalls Patrick Rodgers, “and it was very reassuring to see the scene folks pull together after losing someone who was such an active and well-known member. As a community, we hurt like hell, but we took strength from each other and kept ourselves together.”

I had consistently heard from a number of people that John’s funeral was attended by many people, and I asked Evi Numen about this.

“It was very well attended indeed,” she replied. “My memory of it is sort of hazy because of the traumatic nature of the event as well as the painkillers I was put on. That being said, I remember pretty much most if not all of the 21+ Goth scene in Philly being there, 300 people I believe. It wasn’t unlike a concert in attendance and attire.

“Most of the attendees seemed really emotional and there was a great sense of community in the room. I remember with some horror, still, that the makeup artist the funeral home used had made the brilliant decision to put on tanner to mask John’s naturally deathly pallor. (Note Evi’s sarcasm.) I remember holding his hand and being amazed at how waxy and empty it felt, and crying, I had such a hard time stopping crying. I wasn’t alone in that. I delivered a eulogy that I barely remember but basically spoke about what a loving person John was.

“During a relative‘s eulogy, a number of pots fell in the kitchen that was in the back room of the funeral parlor, making a huge ruckus and causing people to chuckle with the thought that John was making an appearance. Some people said they saw him pacing in the room...

“After the viewing, all the attendees moved to the cemetery nearby to bury the casket. John’s friends lifted me over it so I could deposit a rose and some dirt on the coffin.”

All of the people who knew and loved John, and they are legion, have done the best they can to include his spirit in the machinations of Philadelphia’s Goth scene since Evi’s rose hit his casket. His hard work and expert brainstorming has not been wasted in the least. Not every single idea took root, but in the end he built the foundations of an increasingly important and popular part of Philadelphia’s most eclectic, multifaceted subculture and, arguably, the most positive part of its nightlife.

“People still talk about John, even five years after his death,” asserts Jennifer Brozenske. “I think that clearly shows he made an impact. From the clubs he ran to the people he helped to connect, he was a part of us. He showed us what you can achieve when you have the right attitude and people.”

Positive attitude, acceptance, genuine love of people and heartfelt warmth: this has characterized the best Philadelphians I have known, and the latest of these is the late John Rambo, Jr. He may have peered deeply into the darkness, as have we all in this scene, but he had a heart of light. Love him always.