Every once in a while, you hear about someone’s passing and, through the stories shared by friends and loved ones, you realize what a tragic loss it truly is. Sometimes, you never had the pleasure of meeting this person, yet by the end of it all, you’re left with a profound sense of sorrow—not just for their passing, but for the fact that you never had the chance to know them in the first place. That’s been my experience upon learning of the death of Don De Grazia, a true son of Chicago.

What does it mean to be a “true son of Chicago”? Well, let me tell you. It’s in the way you think about the place you call home. It encompasses so much—the iconic skyline, your favorite watering holes, the L stops, the scent of a neighborhood, or the smile of the bus driver on your route. Chicago is a special city, with special people who share an unspoken understanding. If you’re from Chicago, you carry a certain bravado and swagger, with a wink in your eye, knowing that this is the best city on the planet—a secret that only Chicagoans truly appreciate. This city is full of people who share that bond, and some of them act as the glue that holds this ethos together. Don De Grazia was that glue for so many. Chicago is Chicago because of people like Don.

In Chicago, a rite of passage is finding your softball team. Over time, they become family, where meeting up after the game becomes more important than the game itself. Don lost his life doing one of the things he loved most, embodying the ultimate Chicago story that only his beloved Mike Royko could pen. Don De Grazia, who passed away on June 13 at the age of 56 after suffering a medical issue at a 16-inch softball game, is a tragic loss for his family, no doubt. But it’s also a bigger loss for the city he helped shape.

Don was married to Siera Cerny, a writer, actress, and comic improviser. The couple had a 17-month-old daughter, Daisy. He died shortly after feeling fatigued following a championship softball game at Hamlin Park. He was the manager and pitcher of a coed team whose mascot, named Li’l Stucky, was based on the rodent that left the famed rat hole imprint on a Roscoe Village sidewalk, not far from where Don lived.

Don shaped our city with his words, from his early days in high school to his experiences at Chicago’s Metro. He was a keen observer and became friends with people from various groups and factions represented at hardcore punk shows—among them, skinheads whose beliefs ranged from simply anti-establishment to racist. He mined these experiences to write his first novel, American Skin, which was published in Europe in 1998 and in the United States in 2000. The novel details the odyssey of a young runaway who ends up in Chicago and joins a multiracial group of anti-Nazi skinheads. Much of the action is set around Clark Street and Belmont Avenue in Lakeview—an area once known for the punks and skinheads who hung out in the parking lot of a Dunkin’ Donuts, now replaced by a Target store.

“He was a real salt of the earth kind of guy, and I’m going to miss him,” says Joe Shanahan. “He just was a special guy.” That sentiment echoes across the stories shared by his students at Columbia College, those who called him a friend, and everyone lucky enough to have crossed paths with him. It’s truly our loss.

Writing for the Chicago Literary Hall of Fame, Donald G. Evans placed Don De Grazia among some of Chicago’s enduring household names. “Like Marshall Field or Mike Royko, Don made such giant contributions to Chicago’s life and culture that we’ll always think of him as still a part of us,” Evans wrote.

Don is survived by his wife, Siera, and daughter, Daisy Elia. There is a celebration of life event this Sunday, August 25, from 2-6 pm at Metro (3730 N. Clark St.), where Don worked while writing American Skin and taking classes at Columbia College before he became a professor there. The event is free and open to the public, with opportunities to donate to a fundraising initiative for Don’s 18-month-old daughter, Daisy, and her education—a cause dear to Don, who was an avid and enthusiastic reader of both famous and emerging authors. It’s an event poised to bring a smile from the heavens above.

Many local luminaries, including well-known Scottish author and DJ Irvine Welsh (Trainspotting), who lived in Chicago for seven years around the corner from Don in Roscoe Village and was Don’s best friend, will be sharing readings and memories. There will be video montages, DJ sets, and plenty of opportunities to raise a glass in Don’s honor.

Rest in peace, Don. Say hi to Royko for us. Many of us this weekend will celebrate with a softball game and a post-game beer. Cheers, and godspeed.

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