The irrepressible August Tsanakas is no more. Taken down by a Metra train, while shooting heroin. Services tomorrow in River Grove.

His downward spiral continued after I last saw him in New Orleans a few years back, his brother Billy tells me. Lost all his videos in Hurricane Katrina and caught a blood disease from the water that put splotches on his face. Moved back to Chicago and started shooting heroin. Wore out his welcome in more and more bars and OTBs, until finally none of them would let him in. Finally his family told him to get help before they’d keep giving him money. Instead he went out on the train tracks. Billy says it wasn’t suicide, however–the conductor’s report said that in the end he was trying to get out of the way.

Perhaps more later, but for now, I’ll browse through the old stories of a memorable guy.

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