John Sunny Kennebrew IV

John Sunny Kennebrew IV, known and loved as Sunny, Gaga, and Baby Sunny, was born July 11, 2002, in Everett, Washington. A member of the Tulalip Tribes, Sunny lived throughout Tulalip, Everett, and Bothell. On August 23, 2026, Sunny passed away at only 24 years old. He was a son, father, brother, grandson, nephew, uncle, cousin, and friend. He belonged to a big family, and family would remain one of the most important parts of his life. Sunny graduated from Heritage High School in 2020. He later worked several jobs at Tulalip Resort Casino and Quil Ceda Creek Casino, as well as alongside his stepfather doing landscaping. He wasn’t afraid to work and took on different jobs as opportunities came. He also had a creative side. Music was something Sunny truly loved, both listening to it and making it himself. He wrote his own songs and wanted to see where that could take him. He enjoyed sports, video games, swimming, being with friends and family, and eating just about anything. And through every good season and bad season, he remained loyal to his Denver Broncos. Those are the easier things to write about a person. Who Sunny was takes a little more explaining. When his family and friends gathered after his passing and put their memories of him on paper, they had all known him from different places in his life. Some had grown up with him. Some knew him as family. Some knew him through friendship. Some knew him closely, others in different seasons. Still, they kept describing the same heart. There was a gentleness to Sunny that ran deeper than people may have realized. He had a big personality, a bright smile, a quick sense of humor, and a laugh that could take everybody else with it. He could bring energy into a room without much effort. But the people who got past that first layer knew that Sunny was much more tender than he sometimes allowed himself to appear. Life had taught Sunny to put a little armor around that tenderness. Being kind had not always been treated kindly in return, and as he grew older, he learned ways of protecting the more sensitive parts of himself. But he never became hard. No matter what he tried to put around his heart, it kept showing. It showed in how naturally he gave affection. In the hug that came with seeing somebody he loved. In saying “I love you” without making it awkward. In noticing people instead of looking past them. In giving somebody a chance without first deciding what they could offer him. Sunny didn’t have much interest in making people prove they were worthy of basic kindness. He met people where they were. There was something disarming about that. Sunny could joke with almost anybody, but he could also make someone feel comfortable enough to just be themselves around him. He didn’t need everybody to have it together, and he didn’t look down on people for being in a different place in life. He had room for people. When Sunny truly trusted someone, there was even more underneath. The jokes didn’t disappear, because Sunny was always going to be Sunny, but the guard could come down. He could talk about what was really going on. He could be sensitive. He could admit when something hurt. He didn’t always need somebody to fix whatever he was carrying. Sometimes he simply needed someone he trusted to be there and listen. And that understanding of presence shaped the way Sunny loved other people too. He showed up. At family gatherings, you felt his presence before he even arrived. If Gaga was late, people noticed. There was almost a sense that everybody wasn’t quite there yet because Sunny wasn’t there yet. Then he’d walk in. Big smile. That warm “hey.” Making sure he acknowledged everybody in the room. Whether he was loud that day or more laid back, Sunny brought a warmth with him. He didn’t walk in and only seek out the people he was closest to. He saw people. And people were genuinely happy to see him too. Sunny loved being together. He cared about quality time and closeness, and conflict between the people he loved sat heavily with him. Whatever disagreement happened, distance never seemed to fit him for very long. He wanted his people good with one another. Not just around one another. That mattered to him. His relationship with Lulu was one of the deepest examples of how closely Sunny could love someone. For Sunny, Lulu had always been there. And for Lulu, so had he. And when Sunny became a father, the love he carried for people found an entirely new place to go. Sunny shared his son, John Sunny Kennebrew V, lovingly known as Fivey and Dada Man, with Neona Linker. There is no way to describe Sunny honestly without understanding how much he loved his boy. Fatherhood mattered deeply to him. He was proud of Fivey and wanted to be a good dad. The love he had for his son was tender, attentive, and unmistakable. For someone who was still Baby Sunny to so much of his family, watching him become Dad revealed another part of the man he was growing into. Fivey carries his father’s name, John Sunny Kennebrew V. He will also grow up surrounded by people who knew the man behind that name and can tell him, in a thousand different ways, just how much his dad loved him. And that is where the reality of Sunny being only 24 becomes especially difficult to put into words. Because Sunny wasn’t finished. At 24, who is? There were still parts of himself he was figuring out. Dreams that hadn’t had enough time. Lessons he hadn’t learned yet. Music he hadn’t written. Parts of fatherhood he hadn’t reached. Older versions of Sunny that everybody simply assumed they would get to know one day. We thought there was time for all of it. That is part of the pain of losing someone so young. So much of what everyone expected to become memory never had the chance to happen. Nothing we write can make that feel fair, and nothing we say can make 24 years suddenly feel sufficient. There are questions that come with a loss like this that we cannot answer. We don’t need to force an explanation where we don’t have one. We can grieve honestly, admit that we don’t understand, and trust God with what reaches beyond our understanding. Sometimes faith isn’t having an explanation. Sometimes it is simply knowing where to turn when there isn’t one. And maybe that is also where we can stop trying to make Sunny’s life fit neatly into words. An obituary can give his name, his dates, his family, and pieces of the person he was. But the rest belongs to the people who actually knew him. It belongs in the stories that will be told years from now and still make somebody laugh. In the memories that hurt now but will always be worth having. In the small things somebody else may never understand because they only meant something to the people who were there. And in all the ordinary moments that nobody knew, while they were happening, would one day become so precious. There doesn’t need to be a perfect final description of Sunny. The people who loved him already know. They knew what his presence felt like. They knew the place he held in their lives. And they know just how different those lives will feel without him in them. Sunny is survived by his son, John Sunny Kennebrew V; the mother of his son, Neona Linker; his father, John Sunny Kennebrew III; his mother, Joni Gobin-Smith, and stepfather, Josh Smith; his maternal grandparents, Tony and Judy Gobin; his brothers, Keanu Kennebrew, Everett Kennebrew, Dea’tre Kennebrew, Kaleb Gobin (Jamaica Howard), Keishon Kennebrew (Alyssa Aguilar-Verzola), and Joshua Smith (Janelle Ocampo); his sisters, Vanessa Kennebrew and Shenell Smith (Kathee Dinh); and his godbrothers, Xavier Shaw-Keeten, Tyrese Lasane, Tyrin Lasane, Tyce Lasane, Xiomar Shaw, Nasir Shaw, and Kaderrius Butler. He is also survived by his nieces and nephews, Bliss Gobin, Noelani Gobin, Londyn Williams, Nayeli Valencia, Natalia Valencia, Manny Verzola, Xylanii Kennebrew, Truce Kennebrew, Jacquelyn Hagan, Kaeden Kennebrew, Kian Pelayo, Kingston Kennebrew, and Soleia Kennebrew; as well as his many beloved aunties, uncles, cousins, godfamily, extended family, and friends. Sunny was preceded in death by his paternal grandparents, John Sunny Kennebrew Jr. and Vanessa Kennebrew; his maternal great grandparents; Harold Joseph and Loretta James; his uncle, Jesus Echevarria Sr.; Michael Joseph; John Burke; Gene Zackuse; Jordan “Juvie” Marks; Paul “JR” Shay; Dontae Jones; Kanim Posey; Keaden Posey; Scheiyenne Lane; Kian Pelayo; Jayden Brashears; and James “Jim” Bow;

A Special Procession will be held at Tulalip Gathering Hall, 7512 Totem Beach Rd, Tulalip Bay, WA 98271, US, on August 31, 2026, from 12:00 pm to 1:00 pm, followed by a Prayer Service at the same location on August 31, 2026, from 6:00 pm to 9:00 pm.

A Funeral Service will take place at Tulalip Gathering Hall, 7512 Totem Beach Rd, Tulalip Bay, WA 98271, US, on September 1, 2026, from 10:00 am to 12:00 pm, with a Committal Service at Mission Beach Cemetery, Mission Beach Rd, Tulalip Bay, WA 98271, US, on September 1, 2026, from 12:00 pm to 1:00 pm.