Seeing a funeral procession is, for me at least, slightly unnerving. It’s hard to not feel like you are an unwelcome intruder on a private situation, like making eye contact through the front window of someone’s house as you pass by on the street. I feel shamefully slobbish in whatever I’m wearing in close proximity to such a somber occasion. My thoughts often drift towards whom the deceased was, what their friends and family thought of them, were they a happy person, and so on.

On August 31, the neighborhood said goodbye to Vincent “Moon” Mullen, a beloved Fishtown resident. I had never met the man, but it was hard to not feel moved upon seeing the farewell he was given. Moon had a jazz funeral, complete with horse-drawn carriage, brass band and mass of mourners stretching behind the carriage for a whole block. It was unlike any funeral I have ever attended or witnessed, and I had to wonder what Moon must have been like to warrant such a turnout from the neighborhood.

Speaking to some people who knew Moon, it quickly became obvious: Everyone raved about him. His kindness, sense of humor and charity have all had a huge impact on Fishtown and its residents. After hearing some stories about Moon, it became clear why so many people felt that they had to come out and send him off.

Kim Comey has known Moon all her life. She was his neighbor and is a good friend of his daughter, Colleen.

“He’s part of our family, we were part of his family,” she said. Summing up Moon as a person, Comey said that he was a “genuinely good guy.”

“He just helped people. That’s what he did, and it made him happy to help people. He would be there for someone, even at times when he was struggling himself, and you wouldn’t know it. He was just there for you,” Comey said.

“He had a heart of gold. He would do anything — people say that, but he truly would do anything to help someone,” said Maggie O’Brien, whose son played baseball with Moon’s son Patrick on a team that Moon coached.

Moon’s charity was legendary. If someone needed help, they could count on Moon to do everything short of rearranging the planets to make sure they got what they needed. He was particularly famous for his Beef and Beers, which he would organize at the drop of a hat. As soon as Moon heard of someone that could use a hand, he was hitting the streets, knocking on doors, canvassing corner stores, anything he could do to let people know what was happening and what they could do to help.

“And they always would give it to him, because they knew it wasn’t for him, it was to help somebody else,” Comey said.

“For decades,” O’Brien agreed.

Many Riverwards residents knew Moon from his t-shirt stand in front of Wilson’s Check Cashing on Girard Avenue. A huge fan of all of the local teams, Moon was the go-to guy for any clothing related to Philly sports. Flyers, Eagles, Phillies, he had it all. Along with the sports gear, Moon sold a few personalized designs that showed off his brilliant sense of humor.

“He was loud, he was funny, he was silly. He sold the Fishtown University shirts,” said O’Brien, waiting for the joke to land. I soon realized what Fishtown University’s acronym would be and all the ways it could be emblazoned on a t-shirt.

Moon’s shirts often came in handy when local kids needed something for a school spirit day. No midnight green on Eagles day? Moon had you covered. Moon decked out countless families in gear that helped them rep their Philadelphia pride.

As much as Moon loved Fishtown and his neighbors, he loved his family more, if that is even possible. He adored his wife Helen, his kids Colleen and Patrick, and his grandchildren, Ava, Audrey, Paddy, Patrick and Haedyn.

“His wife, his children, his grandchildren, they just meant so much to him. It was really moving to see that. Especially because sometimes men of that generation weren’t as involved, I see younger guys nowadays and they’re very involved but that wasn’t as true back then. He was truly a loving father and grandfather,” O’Brien said.

Moon’s warmth and kindness wasn’t just limited to his family. Moon loved all children and always tried his best to make sure they were having fun.

“He was the fun dad that we all loved,” Comey said. “We asked him to dances when we had our father-daughter dances, at a wedding or a party he was always up dancing. We all loved him. And we knew he loved us back, because he treated us like his own.”

His kindness and warmth were not limited to times of plenty either. “As a child I didn’t realize it, but looking back now, Moon and Helen had two kids, and just like every family they had struggles with money and things. I was always there and I was like another mouth to feed, and looking back now, they had nothing sometimes or very little, and he was feeding me. If he was doing something for his kids or they were going somewhere, I was included. That sticks out to me. Even when they were stretched a little thin, I was included.”

“He fed you, and he loved you, and you always felt good when you were in his presence,” she said.

After hearing so many stories about Moon, it was hard not to feel like I knew him in some small way. Jazz funerals usually send off the deceased with some upbeat, “hot” songs meant to celebrate the deceased’s life, and Moon’s was no exception.

“When it stopped in front of Moonie’s house they played ‘What A Wonderful World,” the Louie Armstrong song. I think that sums it up. And he helped people in the neighborhood have a wonderful life,” O’Brien said.

It was a fitting tribute for a man who brought such joy into this world and whose life touched so many others.