This is a story about loss, but it is also the story of Piero Rodriguez. Piero was someone I had known for many years before we lost him. But now that he has passed away, I feel like I know him better. Here it goes...
One year ago, the Miami craft beer scene lost M.I.A. Beer Co. brewer Piero Rodriguez in a tragic car accident. The death of Piero left a mark on the local beer community. Friends and family of Piero gathered at the brewery he loved days after his passing to enjoy his beers and say their farewells. In the wake of his death, a GoFundMe was started to raise funds for his children (one of whom was born two months after his passing), and beers were brewed to honor his memory.
In the months following his death, M.I.A. Beer Co. added a mural of Piero above their brewery doors while local restaurant Kush Wynwood had a life size image of Piero and quote added to their wall. Pop-up events to raise money for his family continued to happen for months after his passing.
“Piero was such a rarity in our scene. A true passion for the craft. An inspiration. Always had a hug & a smile ready for you no matter how exhausted he was. Always made you feel welcome.” said Eddie Torres, a Miami native and old school craft beer fan who moved to Los Angeles shortly before Piero’s passing.
“His intentions always seemed positive, no competition mentality with other brewers. In his eyes, we were all family, and that is a trait missing in many beer scenes.”
Events for Piero were held all over the state, bringing together friends and fellow members of the beer industry to honor their friend and raise money for his family.
As it always does, life moved on. The brewery released Piero’s last batches of beer, the events began to slow down, and beer lovers moved on with their lives but the digital footprints Piero left behind were still present.
Piero, like most people in his age group, was active on a wide range of social media platforms. He posted to Facebook, Instagram, made musical lists on Spotify, and was interviewed for blogs and digital articles. A quick search on Google makes it easy to see how popular and well-liked he was.
So, for someone like me, who knew Piero in life, it is easy to feel his presence even though he is now gone.
When the one year anniversary of Piero’s passing came, I felt an urge to honor him, remember him, and celebrate who he was. I ordered a pint of his beer at a local bar and then I put in my headphones and searched for Piero on Spotify. I have subscribed to Piero’s Spotify account for years, long before his passing but I never once visited his profile page and listened to a playlist that he made. On the anniversary, I did that and did you know what I found out? Piero and I had similar tastes in music. I knew that Piero loved music before we lost him. He always shared images of his record collection, wore obscure band shirts, and was deeply saddened when David Bowie died, but I didn’t think our music taste was as similar as it was. I would probably never have known this if Piero was still with us.
This sent me down a rabbit hole. What else did I not know about Piero? In the days after he passed away, I visited his Instagram page several times, reliving his memories and liking old photos that I had scrolled pass years before. Why, now? Why did I feel the need to share my love of his life after it was lost?
Each time I liked a photo on Piero’s Instagram, I felt closer to his presence. Before he was gone, I didn’t know that I loved that presence as much as I did. I did not know that Piero was a person that I wanted to know better, that I respected, and that I cared for.
And, as it turns out, I am not alone. Piero’s Instagram feed is full of messages of remembrance. People mention that they come to his Instagram regularly just to see his face and to tell him that they miss him. It’s painful, I am sure, for each of his friends to return to his last post, taken only days before his death. The final image on his Instagram feed is of ginger root, orange, and carrot, and was the beginning of a beer that Piero was working on. The beer would go on to be known as Babalu, a Berliner that MIA Beer Co. released shortly after his passing. It’s not an image of Piero, but it is an image that reminds all of us of him - he loved beer, he loved MIA, and he loved brewing.
When my Grandmother passed on almost 20 years ago, she took all of her memories with her. I have few photographs, stories that have begun to fade, and no idea what type of music she liked. She has become a distant memory of a woman that I loved and still loves but in a lot of ways, I barely knew.
I wish I knew her better. I am grateful to the digital breadcrumbs that Piero left behind. In 20 years, when his sons are grown, there will be something that they can reference that will show them who their father truly was from his perspective. The songs he liked, the images he found intriguing, and the life he lived.
I am grateful for that, and I am also happy to have known him.