I loved Tony. I have never been with a more beautiful man. We had a Valentines Day dinner date in the Castro. Of course Tony was late : ) I was seated by the Host. I told him I was expecting my date. I remember telling the Host - " you'll know when he arrives , he'll be the most beautiful man in this place". Tony arrived with a small box of Valentine cookies for me with our Horoscopes taped on the box. Tony leaned over to kiss me and his hair fell on my face. The Host looked at me and smiled " You're right " he said. I loved a painting he had of his mother on a hill with a pick up truck in the back round, it was hauntingly beautiful. I would give anything to have even the smallest of his works. I loved him,I am greatful for the time we had together, I still pray for Tony.

In about 1981 Tony gave me a charcoal of a brawny man’s torso. It’s been on my wall since then. Today I looked at it and thought I’d look Tony up after so many years and have him finally sign it. I Googled him and found this memorial and then went into a pensive flash-back of Tony when he was seventeen and studying ballet with me in Santa Rosa. It was long ago but eerily like yesterday. I modeled for him around that time and he gave me one of the results. He did sign that picture. He titled it, “Roger peeved,” because it came out with me looking that way. We hung out a few times over the years and went dancing at Russian River in the heyday. He was nineteen (I think) the first time at R.R. so we both used my ID. I’d walk in and get my hand stamped, then come out and give him the ID. I was twenty-four and we could pass for brothers, more or less, so we got away with it every time. My only restrictions were that he couldn’t drink alcohol or get fresh with anyone because I thought it would look bad, contributing to a minor and all that. That first time we went out (we were platonic by the way) I asked him to wear something that would make him blend in. He wore white pants, a white sweater, a black belt and black boots. I thought we’d be goners but there we were dancing away to his favorite song, Gloria, with Tony glowing in the black light and lasers. The last time I saw him was in San Francisco almost twenty years ago. We chatted for a bit and agreed to keep better in touch

In about 1981 Tony gave me a charcoal of a brawny man’s torso. It’s been on my wall since then. Today (June 2011) I looked at it and thought I’d look Tony up after so many years and have him finally sign it. I Googled him and found this memorial and then went into a pensive flash-back of Tony when he was seventeen and studying ballet with me in Santa Rosa. It was long ago but eerily like yesterday. I modeled for him around that time and he gave me one of the results. He did sign that picture. He titled it, “Roger peeved,” because it came out with me looking that way. We hung out a few times over the years and went dancing at Russian River in the heyday. He was eighteen the first time at R.R. so we both used my ID. I’d walk in and get my hand stamped, then come out and give him the ID. I was twenty-three and we could pass for brothers, more or less, so we got away with it every time. My only restrictions were that he couldn’t drink alcohol or get fresh with anyone because I thought it would look bad, contributing to a minor and all that. That first time we went out (we were platonic by the way) I asked him to wear something that would make him blend in. He wore white pants, a white sweater, a black belt and black boots. I thought we’d be goners but there we were dancing away to his favorite song, Gloria, with Tony glowing in the black light and lasers. The last time I saw him was in San Francisco almost twenty years ago. We chatted for a bit and agreed to keep better in touch.

In about 1981 Tony gave me a charcoal of a brawny man’s torso. It’s been on my wall since then. Today I looked at it and thought I’d look Tony up after so many years and have him finally sign it. I Googled him and found this memorial and then went into a pensive flash-back of Tony when he was seventeen and studying ballet with me in Santa Rosa. It was long ago but eerily like yesterday. I modeled for him around that time and he gave me one of the results. He did sign that picture. He titled it, “Roger peeved,” because it came out with me looking that way. We hung out a few times over the years and went dancing at Russian River in the heyday. He was eighteen the first time at R.R. so we both used my ID. I’d walk in and get my hand stamped, then come out and give him the ID. I was twenty-three and we could pass for brothers, more or less, so we got away with it every time. My only restrictions were that he couldn’t drink alcohol or get fresh with anyone because I thought it would look bad, contributing to a minor and all that. That first time we went out (we were platonic by the way) I asked him to wear something that would make him blend in. He wore white pants, a white sweater, a black belt and black boots. I thought we’d be goners but there we were dancing away to his favorite song, Gloria, with Tony glowing in the black light and lasers. The last time I saw him was in San Francisco almost twenty years ago. We chatted for a bit and agreed to keep better in touch.

In about 1981 Tony gave me a charcoal of a brawny man’s torso. It’s been on my wall since then. Today I looked at it and thought I’d look Tony up after so many years and have him finally sign it. I Googled him and found this memorial and then went into a pensive flash-back of Tony when he was seventeen and studying ballet with me in Santa Rosa. It was long ago but eerily like yesterday. I modeled for him around that time and he gave me one of the results. He did sign that picture. He titled it, “Roger peeved,” because it came out with me looking that way. We hung out a few times over the years and went dancing at Russian River in the heyday. He was eighteen the first time at R.R. so we both used my ID. I’d walk in and get my hand stamped, then come out and give him the ID. I was twenty-three and we could pass for brothers, more or less, so we got away with it every time. My only restrictions were that he couldn’t drink alcohol or get fresh with anyone because I thought it would look bad, contributing to a minor and all that. That first time we went out (we were platonic by the way) I asked him to wear something that would make him blend in. He wore white pants, a white sweater, a black belt and black boots. I thought we’d be goners but there we were dancing away to his favorite song, Gloria, with Tony glowing in the black light and lasers. The last time I saw him was in San Francisco almost twenty years ago. We chatted for a bit and agreed to keep better in touch.

In about 1981 Tony gave me a charcoal of a brawny man’s torso. It’s been on my wall since then. Today I looked at it and thought I’d look Tony up after so many years and have him finally sign it. I Googled him and found this memorial and then went into a pensive flash-back of Tony when he was seventeen and studying ballet with me in Santa Rosa. It was long ago but eerily like yesterday. I modeled for him around that time and he gave me one of the results. He did sign that picture. He titled it, “Roger peeved,” because it came out with me looking that way. We hung out a few times over the years and went dancing at Russian River in the heyday. He was eighteen the first time at R.R. so we both used my ID. I’d walk in and get my hand stamped, then come out and give him the ID. I was twenty-three and we could pass for brothers, more or less, so we got away with it every time. My only restrictions were that he couldn’t drink alcohol or get fresh with anyone because I thought it would look bad, contributing to a minor and all that. That first time we went out (we were platonic by the way) I asked him to wear something that would make him blend in. He wore white pants, a white sweater, a black belt and black boots. I thought we’d be goners but there we were dancing away to his favorite song, Gloria, with Tony glowing in the black light and lasers. The last time I saw him was in San Francisco almost twenty years ago. We chatted for a bit and agreed to keep better in touch.

In about 1981 Tony gave me a charcoal of a brawny man’s torso. It’s been on my wall since then. Today I looked at it and thought I’d look Tony up after so many years and have him finally sign it. I Googled him and found this memorial and then went into a pensive flash-back of Tony when he was seventeen and studying ballet with me in Santa Rosa. It was long ago but eerily like yesterday. I modeled for him around that time and he gave me one of the results. He did sign that picture. He titled it, “Roger peeved,” because it came out with me looking that way. We hung out a few times over the years and went dancing at Russian River in the heyday. He was eighteen the first time at R.R. so we both used my ID. I’d walk in and get my hand stamped, then come out and give him the ID. I was twenty-three and we could pass for brothers, more or less, so we got away with it every time. My only restrictions were that he couldn’t drink alcohol or get fresh with anyone because I thought it would look bad, contributing to a minor and all that. That first time we went out (we were platonic by the way) I asked him to wear something that would make him blend in. He wore white pants, a white sweater, a black belt and black boots. I thought we’d be goners but there we were dancing away to his favorite song, Gloria, with Tony glowing in the black light and lasers. The last time I saw him was in San Francisco almost twenty years ago. We chatted for a bit and agreed to keep better in touch.

To this day, I can't eat a walnut without thinking about the time Tony and Steve were helping Grandma make cookies. She needed them to shell the walnuts, and Tony decided it would be more fun if they pretended they were performing brain surgery - trying to extract a perfect half walnut from the shell without breaking it. I was probably five years old, and Tony must have been about twelve. He was already exhibiting his awesome, funny, macabre sense of humor. I'm so grateful you were different and interesting. I will never forget you.

Tony and I met years ago when I was painting in a cafe up the street from where he was painting plein-air a Castro Victorian. We chatting and hung out while he worked on that painting, and frequnetly in the 1990s as we both struggled to be productive artists in SF. I knew watching him paint that Victorian, and through the years I knew Tony, that if I ever opened a gallery, he'd be one of the first artists I'd invite to show there. Well, I'm opening the gallery in March 2008 and Tony was the first artist friend I started really searching for online. I found this tribute and my tears today are fresh, learning that he is no longer paiting down the block or somewhere across town, or even down in Mexico. I wish I had had the chance to show Tony how much I respected him and his art. I regret that my gallery has come too late to feature part of Tony's beautiful vision with the world.

Just the other night, I was trying to sleep and for some reason I remembered how when mom and dad were first divorced, you used to drive me to school in the morning. I was in the sixth grade and we had moved out of the district. I was to finish out the year at that school and start a new one in the fall. I was 11 and you were 18. It was just such a bad time in our family but I remember really enjoying those rides to school, just hanging out with you and listening to the radio. You loved the song that went "nobody's gonna break my stride, nobody's gonna slow me down..." it was 1981. Shortly thereafter you moved to the city but you still wrote me letters all the time, and I still have every one. I love you Tony!

god bless you and your loved ones always!

One time I often think of fondly was when you came home from Mexico for a visit. You brought a bottle of tequila for me and Jesse. Instead of taking the bottle home with us, we all sat around mom's little glass table in the kitchen and did shots and talked for hours. You and Jesse really bonded over tons of different issues, mom got tipsy, and I just had one of the best times of my life there that day, soaking it all in. Conversation and Cazadores. I miss you every day.

My favorite memories with you were spent sitting on Nona's front porch swing. You always made Easter at Nona's so special with the undivided attention you gave me when I was such a little girl. You were and are my big cousin who I missed out on knowing in adulthood. Tony you were in my thoughts so much yesterday and I am sure you were missed by many more people than just me. I love you and miss you. Muah.

I am sitting here at my computer at 3:30am in NYC... and I suddenly get a strong feeling about Tony Sbragia... whom I haven't spoken to in over 25 years. I have good memories of Jr. High and High School with him, and for some reason I am compelled to "google" him... which led me to this page. I am very sorry to read that he is no longer with us (but of course he IS in other ways). I just wanted to say that he was always one of the good guys, and I have much admiration for him.