Birth date: Jul 15, 1980 Death date: Aug 20, 2020
Jason Charles Van Sleet, 40, of Miami Beach, Florida, passed away on August 20, 2020. He was born in Albany, New York to Alfred and Rita Van Sleet on July 15, 1980. He was a graduate of Scotia-Glenville High School (1998) and The Read Obituary
We miss you so much. My nephews keep asking when his uncle Jasón is coming back 🙏🏼❤️💔we loved you for ever.
We miss you so much 🙏🏼💔 it’s going to be 1 month on Sunday since you left us. Me and jack miss you 😘 for ever. My guerito palmas 🙏🏼
I had the great pleasure of working with Jason for the last seven-odd years. Even though our work schedules were erratic and I would only get to see him every few months, it was always a bright spot in the calendar when a job with Jason was coming up. Hanging out and laughing was always the high point of seeing him. He easily became a real friend, and not just a work friend. But looking back when we were at work, I'm realizing that he had a unique ability to do his job well, quickly, with fun, and also grace towards others with a lesser skill set. A unique combination, especially in our industry.
A few years ago we were on a job together, and true to form, he finished at a reasonable time, while I had to stay later. During the day we had been collaborating on some vapid playlist for a business meeting. When I finally caught up to him at the bar, he was giggling into his beer about something but wouldn't tell me what. So the next day I start the playlist and it's fine for the first 10 minutes or so before it takes a turn for the worse, and I realize he had spent the night before editing our inane Imagine Dragons playlist into the single worst list of music that has ever been created. It actually showed his immense depth of musical knowledge. It started off harmless enough with Air Supply and Kenny Rogers songs before it took a more aggressive turn with some choice Slayer and Cannibal Corpse tracks. In any case, not exactly what the regional sales team wanted to hear at 7 in the morning. The story is a lot funnier to me than in any retelling, but it still gives me a smile when I think about it and when I think about Jay. It reminds me of all of our good times and laughs. It also gives me a concrete way to remember him when I think about him and miss him so badly now.
Rest in peace, brother. You were loved. I love you.
And for everyone else, enjoy his masterpiece:
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0HzkbuHqjTBt9iH0bOyvtD?si=IGOLK7paTuGAvvlXLwbSAA
I have no words to describe how amazing you are 🙏🏼 My heart is broken 💔🙏🏼 I will love you for ever
The best day of my life 🙏🏼 Thank you my guerito for this amazing wedding. We enjoyed soo much. I love you for ever. ❤️❤️ te amo
My guerito 🙏🏼🙏🏼 I miss you so much 🙏🏼👼🏼💔
Jason and I met nearly 20 years ago at the stage door of the Stuart Street Playhouse. This small encounter changed my life. I met someone who would become my best friend, my confidant, and in no uncertain terms, my brother.
Over the next couple of years our friendship was forged through long days of work, followed by long nights of socialization. With an endless energy that only 20-somethings possess, we burned the candle at both ends, talking about music, history, sports, politics, social issues, dogs, cars, books, history, anything you can imagine we covered. We stayed up too late and probably made a few bad decisions along the way, but we also grew closer, and fast… Jason, you made space in your world for me, and for that I am forever grateful.
Both being freelancers, our schedules didn’t always line up. Months would pass between our hangs, but it never mattered, we just pick right back up where we left off. You make it so easy to fall back into a rhythm, your knack for comfortable conversation is something I’ve always admired. I love you, buddy.
As fate would have it, our professional relationship eventually caught up with our friendship. We started traveling together extensively, working, talking, hanging, building on our already intense bond. 2020 was slated to be a banner year for us- we had something like 12 projects on the books - we started off strong, with three shows in the beginning of the year, but then the pandemic hit and the cancellations rolled in. We got on the phone and lamented the loss of work, but mostly the loss of time spent together. It’s not every day you get to work with your best friend; we didn’t have to communicate every little detail, we just did it, picking up where the other left off. It never felt like work on those days, it was a privilege.
One night last summer in Seattle, Jason and I were unwinding after work at a local dive bar. He looks down toward the end of the bar and notices a fellow patron struggling to breath. With zero hesitation he jumps up, runs to the end of the bar, wraps his arms around the strangers midsection and performs the Heimlich. He literally saved this gentleman’s life. With complete confidence and certainty he acted selflessly for another. This is really what you’re all about, you’re a giving soul, a caring soul, one who puts others first. A true human. This is how I remember you, brother.
My heart aches for this loss. I truly feel the world has lost something in you, Jason. A person who truly cared and gave so much. A person I’m proud to say I love.
Jason and I met nearly 20 years ago at the stage door of the Stuart Street Playhouse. This small encounter changed my life. I met someone who would become my best friend, my confidant, and in no uncertain terms, my brother.
Over the next couple of years our friendship was forged through long days of work, followed by long nights of socialization. With an endless energy that only 20-somethings possess, we burned the candle at both ends, talking about music, history, sports, politics, social issues, dogs, cars, books, history, anything you can imagine we covered. We stayed up too late and probably made a few bad decisions along the way, but we also grew closer, and fast… Jason, you made space in your world for me, and for that I am forever grateful.
Both being freelancers, our schedules didn’t always line up. Months would pass between our hangs, but it never mattered, we just pick right back up where we left off. You make it so easy to fall back into a rhythm, your knack for comfortable conversation is something I’ve always admired. I love you, buddy.
As fate would have it, our professional relationship eventually caught up with our friendship. We started traveling together extensively, working, talking, hanging, building on our already intense bond. 2020 was slated to be a banner year for us- we had something like 12 projects on the books - we started off strong, with three shows in the beginning of the year, but then the pandemic hit and the cancellations rolled in. We got on the phone and lamented the loss of work, but mostly the loss of time spent together. It’s not every day you get to work with your best friend; we didn’t have to communicate every little detail, we just did it, picking up where the other left off. It never felt like work on those days, it was a privilege.
One night last summer in Seattle, Jason and I were unwinding after work at a local dive bar. He looks down toward the end of the bar and notices a fellow patron struggling to breath. With zero hesitation he jumps up, runs to the end of the bar, wraps his arms around the strangers midsection and performs the Heimlich. He literally saved this gentleman’s life. With complete confidence and certainty he acted selflessly for another. This is really what you’re all about, you’re a giving soul, a caring soul, one who puts others first. A true human. This is how I remember you, brother.
My heart aches for this loss. I truly feel the world has lost something in you, Jason. A person who truly cared and gave so much. A person I’m proud to say I love.
We knew of Jason quite possibly right around the time of his conception. I remember my excited announcement that I was expecting our first child in May and Rita turning to Al saying something to the effect of, “shes having my spring baby!” So, we knew to be expecting a third addition to the Van Sleet family. Jason was almost exactly 2 months younger than Patrick. I don’t think I can precisely pinpoint one event in his lifetime but many, many joy-filled family events (and a few sad ones), visits and excursions. Wintertime sledding down hills in Averill Park, Hague, and Saranac with all the Van Sleet- Via cousins then coming in to enjoy hot chocolate by a fireside. Jason always stood out as the sweet, quiet tow-head with the sly little smile. As he grew older we all naturally drifted in our separate directions but on the occasions when we did manage to get together he stood out as a kind and gentle soul with a keen sense of humor. A bright light in the family. Jason will live on in our hearts forever in memory. My spirit tells me he’s in a good place sailing and visiting with those who’ve gone before him. Love you forever Jason, aunt Paula and Uncle Tom.
In high school Jason worked with me at the Schenectady Library. He would come in after school, I would ask him “what’s new at SGHS”. He would would reply with some fun and interesting happenings. Jason was a great guy to be around. Matt and family Jason’s passing truly saddens me.
