Paul Walker Forum
An inside view of Paul Walker and the kind of person he truly was. I met Paul when he just finished wrapping up Fast and Furious 2, he was renting a room out at the top of one of his old childhood friends homes, Alvin Z, on 22nd Street in Huntington Beach, California. Paul at the time a millionaire already refused to buy a house, he preferred renting, vagrant-drifting, and living with his child hood buddies instead, including his stunt double Oakley. Paul's wardrobe consisted of white t-shirts, Dickie pants or surf board-shorts, and Chuck Taylor Converse sneakers. Giorgio Armani and many other fashion labels would send him boxes of clothes etc, which he gave away or discarded, he wasn't interested. He normally drove a big gray Ford 250 truck, "not a sports car" and had no one to impress. The calls would come in for the parties and premiere's and he would almost always decline unless he was promoting something of his own. He enjoyed acting because it was fun and lucrative, but wanted nothing to do with the scene, often mentioning that after a few more films he would be done. He wanted to set himself and his loved ones up for life, so he endured the discomfort from the attention that came with being a star.
We would all go out to dinner and he rarely ever let anybody pay for themselves. While eating out the attention would pick up and women would start interrupting us along with having drinks sent to our table, and Paul had a way of deflecting the attention from himself and instead making his friends feel equally important. Strangers would constantly approach him and he had a cool way of handling situations, for example a few young 13 year old girls recognized him while we were all sitting on the porch having some beers, and they were so thrilled they asked him a zillion questions and he asked them questions back, he took the time to care. After talking for so long and it being dark outside, the girls weren't quite sure how to get back to to their parents hotel where they were staying since they were from out of state, so Paul insisted on helping and escorted them to their parents leading them safely back. He had a daughter of his own, Meadow, we had gone to breakfast with her at the Harbor House in Long Beach, California, that week.
An average day of fun for us was hanging out and drinking some beers, and daring each other to do silly things to earn more beers like the time Paul dared me to walk on my hands where I went half a block and got the worst blisters on my palms. Paul and us would all go surfing often, and we would all pile into his big truck and drive a few blocks to the Huntington Beach pier and night surf for hours. After surfing we would head back to the house and warm up in the hot tub, dry off, and then we would make up competitions whether it was sparring or belching, but just anything to make each other laugh. One night I remember all piling into my truck and he, his girlfriend, and some of our other friends were all singing at the top of our lungs to the African Children's quire, we had no idea what they were saying but we loved the sound. We then arrived at our destination where a good friend was DJ-ing and we all formed our circle and danced the night away as happily, humorously, and free spirited as possible.
These memories are how I'll always remember Paul who died today at the hands of another person who lost control of the red GT3 Porsche they were traveling in, crashing into a tree and pole, then being consummated by fire.
In Memoriam Paul William Walker
September 12, 1973 – November 30, 2013
We would all go out to dinner and he rarely ever let anybody pay for themselves. While eating out the attention would pick up and women would start interrupting us along with having drinks sent to our table, and Paul had a way of deflecting the attention from himself and instead making his friends feel equally important. Strangers would constantly approach him and he had a cool way of handling situations, for example a few young 13 year old girls recognized him while we were all sitting on the porch having some beers, and they were so thrilled they asked him a zillion questions and he asked them questions back, he took the time to care. After talking for so long and it being dark outside, the girls weren't quite sure how to get back to to their parents hotel where they were staying since they were from out of state, so Paul insisted on helping and escorted them to their parents leading them safely back. He had a daughter of his own, Meadow, we had gone to breakfast with her at the Harbor House in Long Beach, California, that week.
An average day of fun for us was hanging out and drinking some beers, and daring each other to do silly things to earn more beers like the time Paul dared me to walk on my hands where I went half a block and got the worst blisters on my palms. Paul and us would all go surfing often, and we would all pile into his big truck and drive a few blocks to the Huntington Beach pier and night surf for hours. After surfing we would head back to the house and warm up in the hot tub, dry off, and then we would make up competitions whether it was sparring or belching, but just anything to make each other laugh. One night I remember all piling into my truck and he, his girlfriend, and some of our other friends were all singing at the top of our lungs to the African Children's quire, we had no idea what they were saying but we loved the sound. We then arrived at our destination where a good friend was DJ-ing and we all formed our circle and danced the night away as happily, humorously, and free spirited as possible.
These memories are how I'll always remember Paul who died today at the hands of another person who lost control of the red GT3 Porsche they were traveling in, crashing into a tree and pole, then being consummated by fire.
In Memoriam Paul William Walker
September 12, 1973 – November 30, 2013
