Friday, August 14, 2026
I just learned about the passing of Mr. James Eugene Roston, Sr. Mr. Roston was my landlord in the early 2000s when he owned property in Harlem on Amsterdam Avenue. It was my first apartment. When I gave Mr. Roston the check for the first month’s rent and security deposit, he taught me how to fill out the memo section. “This way, you will always know what the check was for,” he said. Another lesson he taught me was huge. One day he placed a screwdriver, a dollar bill, and a hammer in front of me. He asked, “Which one of these is the most powerful tool?” I pointed to the hammer. Mr. Roston picked up the dollar bill and said, “It’s this one, and as long as you have enough of these, you can pay someone else to use any of these (screwdriver and hammer) for you.” I still smile at the thought of him teaching me that lesson. He said he taught that lesson to all of his children, and I am sure it has served them as well as it has served me. Mr. Roston introduced me to his daughter one day. She was visiting from Atlanta. Regrettable, I don’t recall her name. However, if she is reading this, know that I hold you and your family in prayer, and you all have my deepest condolences.
When the Rostons sold the Harlem property and moved upstate, we said we’d keep in touch. I called once to wish him a happy father’s day. He wasn’t available so I spoke with Mrs. Roston. I told myself I’d call again, but I didn’t. Mrs. Roston was a retired social worker, and I was pursuing my graduate degree in social work. It was always nice to know we had that in common. The Rostons were a beautiful couple. They have crossed my mind so many times over the years, and it saddens me to learn of his passing. Mrs. Betty Roston, if you are still with us, I pray that you are well. To the rest of Mr. Roston’s family, friends, and loved ones, I pray that you are well. Know that Mr. Roston’s strength in spirit still lives on. May you always cherish the moments you shared with him.
