During a heartfelt memorial service, Rashaud Terrelle Johnson, a cherished and rising star in metro Denver's comedy scene, was warmly remembered on May 31, 2025.

Family and friends came together to share touching tributes, painting a vivid picture of Rashaud's vibrant spirit and the light he brought to those around him. Though the air held sorrow, the room was filled with warmth, memories, and the undeniable presence of someone who had touched countless hearts in just a few short years.

From the moment guests entered, it was clear this was more than a memorial—it was a true celebration of a young man whose energy was unforgettable.

Rashaud, a proud Regis Jesuit High School graduate, was known for his authenticity, easy smile, and rare ability to make people feel truly seen. He discovered his passion for stand-up comedy and became beloved in Denver's vibrant comedy scene. Over a dozen comedians attended the memorial service—not just as peers but as family.

Among them was Rashaud's mentor, JJ Pride, who delivered a tribute that captured Rashaud's spirit with humor and heart. Pride spoke of Rashaud's laid-back presence—how he got to the mic, never in a rush, always calm, always honest. That deliberate ease became part of his charm. "Oh, it's Rashaud," the crowd would often murmur with a smile when his name was called. That pause became part of the show—part of him.

JJ also recalled their late nights together in dimly lit venues, where Rashaud's signature "Bronco drip" and unmatched fashion sense earned admiration and teasing alike. But what impressed him most was Rashaud's quiet resilience. "Comedy is brutal," JJ said, "but Rashaud kept showing up." When others faded away, he stayed—grounded in joy, rooted in something more profound.

Then JJ's tone shifted as he offered a bold challenge to those in uniform: "Your job is hard," he said, "which is why you must think—not once, not twice, but four times—before you act." His message was clear: empathy, not just protocol, must guide service.

One of the most emotional tributes came from Rashaud's maternal grandmother, a woman whose love ran deep. For 32 years, he called her "Schnookums"—which never changed and always made her smile. Just two days before he passed, Rashaud visited her, leaving her with what would be his final words: "I love you, Schnookums." Now, those words ring in her heart with both warmth and grief.

She spoke of the deep void his absence had left and the immense pride she carried. At his shows, she would beam with joy, proudly telling anyone who would listen, "That's my grandson!" Even after his passing, she learned he was achieving things she hadn't yet known about—proof of how brightly his star was rising.

She recently visited several comedy venues to share the news of his passing. She ensured that Rashaud's scheduled performance at Comedy Works on June 4, 2025, would be transformed into a tribute event—a night of remembrance, laughter, and light in his honor.

Rashaud's father stood before the mourners, demonstrating quiet strength and sincerity as he offered a heartfelt tribute to his son's lasting impact on many lives.

He urged everyone to honor Rashad's memory through their words and actions. "Keep his memory alive and share who he was and what he meant to you," he said, promoting a legacy of love and connection.

In a thoughtful reflection, he thanked everyone for their support and encouraged them to remember Rashaud—even when words and stories may not fully capture his spirit.

Rashaud was more than just a comedian—he was a beloved son, grandson, brother, nephew, cousin, and friend. From the very beginning, he was wrapped in love, and that love only grew as he did.

At the beginning of the eulogy, Pastor Kevin H. Taylor shared touching memories of watching Rashaud grow through the seasons of his life. He talked about holding him as a baby and then watching that same child grow into a young man who made people laugh, wasn't afraid to question the norm, and stood tall in what he believed—even when it wasn't easy.

Rev. Taylor asked the question that stayed with all of us: "What will you do with your dash?"  That little line between the day you're born, and the day you leave this earth. It's small, just a mark, but it holds your whole story.

Rashaud's dash, though short in years, was anything but small in meaning. He lived with purpose. His days were full of laughter, truth, love, and light. He didn't wait around for life to give him permission. He didn't follow someone else's script. He followed his heart—boldly and without apology.

He didn't let fear or worry steal his joy. And in that way, Rashaud taught us something lasting: you don't need a lifetime to make a difference. You need to show up—entirely, honestly, and with love.

Taylor said, "So many of us wait for the right moment, opportunity, and "someday" that always feels just out of reach. But tomorrow isn't promised. And the length of your life is not measured by human standards—it's held in God's hands. That's why today matters. That's why your dash matters. Trust that God has a plan, even when it doesn't make sense or your heartaches and the questions feel bigger than answers. You were not created by coincidence."

And so, as we left the service that day—our hearts heavy but full—we carried memories and a challenge to live fully. Laugh often. Love deeply. Trust God and use your gifts.

That's how Rashaud Terrelle Johnson lived.