My extremely self-effacing father, Harry Jay Rubin, unexpectedly died several years ago. Although he had contracted PSP, a rare neurological disease (that had been misdiagnosed as Parkinson's) around 2012 — the same time that I had became a serial victim of crime, corruption, and defamation — he was resilient.

In March 2018, his vital signs were stable.

His regular nurse, Nancy, and York Hospital, and he, himself, told me on the phone that I did not need to rush home to see him. However, on the morning of 3-18-2018, an unknown new nurse showed up at my parents' house in York, PA. My mother does not know her name. She told my mother she could leave my Dad alone with her and get some rest.

Minutes later — while alone wiht the unknown nurse — my father died.

On the morning of his death, I was working on my laptop at a Starbucks on 3rd Avenue at 27th. On LinkedIn — I posted a link to the Department of Justice website page covering "Conspiracy Against Rights."

A couple of hours later — still at Starbucks — I phoned home to check up on my Dad. My mother, in shock, told me that he had died — coincidentally — or not — 40 minutes ago — when she had been told she could leave him alone with the unknown nurse who had shown up that day.

Due to ongoing extreme hardship and abuses of me, I had not seen my Dad since 2016. In fact, when my Father died I was living in a Manhattan drop-off center. I was homeless as a result of the ongoing crime and corruption against me that had begun while I was painting and drawing at Yankees Games — too humbly — with no one protecting me.

Rushing home to York for a small family service, family members and close associates of my Dad's were in shock that he had suddenly died.

Jeff Lobach, Managing Partner of his firm, said that he had just been working with my Dad at my parents' home and my Dad was sharp.

My cousin Polly Cohen, also an attorney, and others, had just been interacting with my Dad. He was doing alright. I had just spoken with him on the phone in the preceding days. He told me there was no need to get to York. He said he was alright.

In 2019, when I was no longer homeless, having obtained a survival job and a renting a room, I filed a complaint with the Home Health Division of the PA Department of Health. Surveyor Cheyenne Ricker investigated.

Ms. Ricker informed me that staff at Home Instead of York, PA lied to her in a way that shocked her, falsely claiming that another agency had been taking care of my Dad.

Ms. Ricker and her Supervisor advised me on the phone that my Dad's death was a "police matter."

I have discussed the matter with Sergeant Detective Wade Barley of the York Regional Police; however, due to ongoing, traumatizing abuses of me — and continual financial hardship that is a direct result of those criminal and civil abuses — I have been unable to go to York to file a report.

My overly humble Dad did not even want a memorial service.

My Dad played the clarinet beautifully. He was considered to have professional-level musical talent. He was simultaneously a ground-breaking attorney.

He was also my primary nurturer. We were fortunate to have an open-minded Father who raised us to be bold, honest, and self-disciplined.

My Dad was a gifted clarinetist who won music competitions growing up. He was encouraged to play professionally. He rarely did so, because he was overly humble about his talent.

Soon after graduating from Yale Law School in 1953, his college friend — Donn Cohen — my Uncle — recommended him to his Dad — PA Attorney General Herbert Cohen — my Grandfather — and still in his 20s — Bud Rubin became a Deputy Attorney General in the Pennsylvania Department of Justice.

He was an expert in multi-state taxation and a liberal Democrat who advocated for progressive taxation policy. He also contributed to American Civil Rights. He represented African American PA Congressman Leroy Irvis — pro bono — in the well-known and often cited "Moose Lodge Case" in 1972.

My father shared, taught, and encouraged us at family supper, which happened promptly every evening.

Many people loved Bud Rubin and asked if they could attend our small family gathering when he unexpectedly passed away in March 2018. Many people would have been happy to drive through the blizzard to my parents home him in York, PA, but my father did not want any fanfare.

He was so overly humble that he did not want any type of memorial service.

I plan to not abide by my Dad's wishes, and I am going to hold a musical gathering in his honor.

I miss his sensitive mind and soul.