Three Friends, a Familiar Hurt, The Post Bar Detroit, and Brad Saying He’s Still Here

While I was working Monday night, three guys came in and grabbed some beers. I asked what brought them downtown, and two of them said they were visiting the third friend that was with them. I mentioned how crazy the weekend was going to be with everything going on—especially Movement. The local friend agreed, and we started talking about how the people-watching during Movement is next-level (which it absolutely is).

That’s when the out-of-town friend—Dave—mentioned he wouldn’t be in town much longer. Then he hit me with, “What’s the big deal about Movement anyway?”

I told him how I suggested to my manager that we make sure to have the Champions League final on this Sunday. With Movement happening, we’re going to have a flood of people from all over—especially Europe. And Europeans love their soccer. When I brought that up, my manager said, “Wait, this thing is that big? People come from all over for it?” I laughed and said, “Yeah, it’s huge. One of the biggest EDM festivals out there. People start showing up Thursday.”

I started explaining how people coming from out of town will usually Google “soccer bars near me.” Thomas Magee’s is the top result, and when it fills up—because it always does—Erik, the owner, sends the overflow to Firebird. That got me thinking: we’re right down the street from Hart Plaza where Movement takes place, and we’ve got a killer setup for watching sports.

So why not put us on the map for soccer fans this weekend?

We’ve got ten 70-inch TVs, all strategically placed. It’s not like we’re short on screens or space. With all these out-of-towners, it just makes sense to advertise that we’ll have the Champions League final on. Give people a heads-up that The Post Bar is a legit option to catch the match—especially if they’re already downtown and walking distance from the festival.

Anyway, I stepped away to check on some tables, and when I came back, Dave looked at me and said, “Can I ask you something?” I said sure, and he goes, “I don’t want this to sound chauvinistic, but why aren’t you consulting for local bars? Everything you just said makes me want to go to those places and check out Movement.”

I laughed and told him I always say how I need to figure out how to monetize making introductions for people and that I had actually started a blog recently, but hadn’t been keeping up with it—because, well… life. He just nodded and said, “Taking time for yourself is never a bad thing, as long as you get back to it.” That hit. So… here I am. Getting back to it.

Shortly after, Jen—the owner—came in and started rearranging flowers in vases she had around the bar. She looked over at the three guys and asked, “So… what’s your story?” They all kind of looked at each other like, where do we even begin?

Dave started by saying that he and one of the guys there both had twins and had grown up just five houses apart. Jen and I looked at each other, kind of stunned. What are the odds? Two sets of twins, growing up that close and becoming lifelong friends? Jen added that her dad was a twin too. Then Dave said, “Want to hear something even weirder?”

Of course we did.

He explained that his twin was married to the sister-in-law of the other twin’s twin. We were already amazed. But he paused and said, “That’s not even the weirdest part.” Naturally, I said, “You can’t just say that and not tell us the rest.”

That’s when things shifted.

Dave’s twin brother, Brad, was brilliant. He had job offers in nine different cities but chose Detroit because he said he wanted to make a change. And he did. Brad led multimillion-dollar revitalization projects—including Kresge Court at the DIA. He believed Detroit deserved spaces that felt inviting and alive. He was part of the DIA’s Detroit Revitalization Fellowship from 2011 to 2013.

When Dave asked if we knew Kresge Court, I told him I’d actually made a flyer for a show there last year for someone I was seeing. Dave smiled and said, “With that marketing knowledge.”

Then he told us that in October 2016, Brad was diagnosed with stage IV kidney cancer.

The other twin’s twin and his wife moved to Michigan to support Brad and his wife. Dave was here often, helping however he could. They all showed up for each other—the way you hope people do when life falls apart. Sadly, Brad passed away on January 22, 2017.

This visit? It was happening because the other twin’s twin—Dave and Brad’s friend—had just been diagnosed with cancer too. Colon cancer, I believe. They were stepping into that same heartbreaking routine again: visits, support, showing up, carrying whatever burdens they could.

After finishing the story, Dave asked if he could see the flyer I’d made. I said of course—just had to dig them up on Canva. I crawled under the server station to get to the other side of the bar and let him scroll through the flyers on my phone.

Watching his face as he looked at photos of a space his brother helped bring to life was almost too much for me. I honestly don’t know how I didn’t break down crying right there. Then he asked if I could send the flyer to him—his kids had been missing their uncle a lot lately, and he wanted to show them. Of course I could. Again, how I didn’t fall apart, I have no idea.

It’s such a small world. A heavy one, sometimes. Somehow, I ended up making a flyer for a space that meant everything to someone who meant everything to Dave.

Between the five of us that night, three of us had a set of twins in our families. Brad was sober. Dave is sober. I’m sober. That was another unexpected thread tying us all together.

After all that, Dave mentioned how Jen’s opening line—“What’s your story?”—caught him off guard because it’s exactly how Brad used to start conversations with strangers and that’s why they all kind of paused and looked at each other when she said it.

At one point while showing Dave the flyers he was telling me how he looked up at the TV and saw two numbers flash on the screen: 1-22 and 313. January 22 was Brad’s death date. 313 is Detroit’s area code. And then, everything after Jen saying, “What’s your story,” transpired.

I just looked at him and said, “That’s Brad letting you know he’s here.”

It’s crazy how life works sometimes. You go into a shift thinking it’ll be a normal Monday night, and you end up connecting with complete strangers in a way that feels anything but random. I didn’t know Brad, but now I won’t forget him. And I won’t forget the way Dave lit up seeing those photos, or how much love and grief can live in someone’s eyes at the same time. Moments like that remind me why I care so much about people’s stories—and why I try to find little ways to make connections that matter, even if it’s just through a quick conversation at the bar or a random flyer I threw together on Canva. The world’s messy, hard, and sometimes really beautiful in the most unexpected ways. Monday was a reminder of all of that.