05/11/2026
This past weekend, someone who has been part of our trivia community for years was killed.
Many of you knew Q personally. Many more probably knew him the way people know each other in neighborhood places: by face, by energy, by the quick “hey man, what’s up,” by the fist bump or hug waiting for you when you stepped up to the counter.
For nearly five years, Growler Guys has been our trivia home. And over those years, Q became one of the people who simply felt like part of the room. When we first started hosting there in 2021, he and Tucker and their crew were barely 21—always around, always laughing, sometimes even playing trivia (with way more enthusiasm than skill). Even then, they helped make the place feel alive.
As the years went on, Q eventually started working there, though honestly, half the time you couldn’t tell whether he was on the clock or just hanging out. That was kind of the beauty of him. He treated people the same either way. Warm. Casual. Happy to see you.
Seeing him at Growler Guys week after week meant the place felt lived in. Familiar. Human. You could tell it was somewhere he felt comfortable, somewhere he felt like himself. And over time, familiar faces like his became part of why the rest of us felt comfortable there too.
Cities are built out of places like this, and living in a city means becoming familiar with its characters—those people who become part of the rhythm of your days and nights. The people you recognize before you realize how long you’ve been recognizing them. You see them in all their humanity.
Communities don’t only happen in big moments. They happen in tiny interactions—or little weekly rituals—repeated over years. A beer slid across a counter. A joke remembered. A smile and fist bump when you walk in the door.
Q was one of the people who gave that feeling to others.
We’re heartbroken for his family, his friends, the Growler Guys staff, and everyone who loved him closely. But we also wanted to acknowledge something else: even if you only knew Q in passing, there’s a good chance your nights were made a little better because he was there.
This city needs more people like him, not fewer.
We’ll miss you, Q.
