Iya
By Kelsey Crawford
October 16, 1995 Eric Heim, AKA Iya, was in the living room of his home when two men dressed in black from head to toe came into his house and shot him three to four times and killed him. Iya was a peaceful person. He would never carry a gun in his life, he was the type of person who would send his mom a dozen red roses on his birthday, he was the kind of friend who would listen to you to the fullest and have an answer you could live with. Everyone that was close to Iya said the same thing, that his death was unjust, and he was much more than just the 84th homicide in Minneapolis. To me Iya was somewhat of a big brother. I loved him very much. Iya meant brother in patois.
Violence is something we can all conquer together, avoid it. Anyone who carries, uses or owns a gun in their home or anywhere is basically stupid. Think about it. Guns kill people, people we love!
The first time I ever met Iya I had just gotten home, it was around twelve at night. Debra, Carol, Jerry, my mom, and Iya were sitting around talking about his upcoming tape. Then he mentioned he had a copy, so we went up to my room to listen to his music. It was beautiful.
Over a period of time, he stayed with me while my parents were out of town just to keep me in line. It’s funny how easy it was for me to respect him, probably because everything he said to me was out of experience. He told me about how he used to drive his mom crazy when he would sneak out to meet his girlfriend in high school. Our relationship was special, and the cool thing about it is, everyone who met Iya felt the same way. He knew how to communicate with everyone on their level.
The best memory I have in my mind of him was when he said “we’re going shopping”. We went to the co-op and here I was with all this healthy junk food, and all Iya had was a bag of oats, a bag of potatoes, and some soap. He looked at me and said, “this soap is all it takes to make a clean man happy.” Then we made a stop at the liquor store and he got this huge box of Summit. And he came out of the store with this big smile on his face, I said “What is so funny?” He said the lady in there asked me for I.D., and I said, “Sweetheart, that is the nicest thing anyone has said to me all day.”
The one thing I loved about Iya the most were the conversations we would have. He would go off on a topic, and the cool thing is he always knew what he was talking about, and everything he would say would make sense to me. I think that when you meet someone like Iya you realize how much of a guard you put up, because he knew how to get you thinking. And forget all your stereotypes because they do not fit him.
I love him, anyone who met him felt loved. I’m still trying to figure out how I’m going to change, but I do know I’m going to change for the better. Thank you Iya for that. I needed to feel the strength that you helped give me, and the wisdom, and the music, and lasts, but definitely not least, the love. You have a piece of my heart.
In loving memory of
TYA
Eric Stephen Heim
June 13, 1961 – October 16, 1995