Celebrity deaths are not uncommon, but this year has proved to be especially hard for many in that respect. In 2018 alone, we lost Mark Sailing, Avicii, Kate Spade, Aretha Franklin, and Burt Reynolds, On September 7, Mac Miller was added to the list.
The 26-year-old artist was found dead at his California home from an apparent drug overdose. News of his death came as a shock for millions, fans and critics alike. Miller had been open about his struggle with substance abuse, especially after getting a DUI in May following his breakup with Ariana Grande. Still, none of us expected to lose him so soon.
Death hits us all in different ways, but Mac Miller's death has sparked a collective mourning internationally. He was one of the decade's most prolific artists, making a name for himself in the industry through the release of his debut studio album, Blue Slide Park and the mixtape Best Day Ever in 2011. As his fanbase began to grow, interviewers and journalists began sharing stories of a universally beloved man. His demeanor attracted people to him and his music kept them there.
Arguably the most incredible component about Miller's music is the fact that no two albums sound alike. He was constantly changing his sound and finding new ways to use his talents as he matured. At the beginning of his career, he gave us feel-good, catchy songs we blasted in our cars. As we grew up he grew with us, and he produced songs confronting addiction, mental illness, and death. His music was the soundtrack of our teenage and early adult years because he, so vulnerably, presented us with songs about the experiences and emotions we couldn't put into words. He was tragically human with the rest of us. His transparency allowed us to bask in his struggles and sentiments and made us feel undoubtedly connected to him, as we all came of age together.
This was his reputation to his fans around the world. But, for some of us, we'd already known Mac Miller before he was, well, Mac Miller.
Born Malcolm James McCormick, he was born and raised in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, which he never let anyone forget. To those of us who grew up in Pittsburgh around the time he was becoming who he was, he was a part of us. The world began to know him as the rapper of "Donald Trump" and "Knock Knock", but before that, we heard of him as "some white Jewish rapper" who happened to be a student at Taylor Allderdice High School, less than two miles away from my school. Over time we, like the rest of the world, knew his songs by heart-- but they meant something more to us.
We shared similar struggles and overcame similar experiences like most of his fans, but they (quite literally) hit close to home for us. We grew up playing in Blue Slide Park. We went to the same Pirates and Steelers games. We shopped at Frick Park Market. We even party on Fifth Ave. The Yinzers who never had the opportunity to meet him even felt a strong relationship with him; he was one of us, from the day his high school principal first heard him rapping in the cafeteria until the day he died. He was proud of his roots, and he made us prouder of ours.
Miller's death hit harder in Pittsburgh; he was more than a celebrity to us. Fans around the world lost their favorite artist, but Pittsburghers also lost a son, a brother, a peer, a friend, and, most importantly, an icon who proved that anyone can achieve their dreams- even a kid from Point Breeze. Regardless, the fact that his fans have to continue to grow without him remains a huge loss for us all. Rest in peace, Mac- I hope you have found your peace.
