Jeremy speaks

Jeremy sent me an email today and asked me to put this up on the blog. Here it is:

I’m having a tough day. It sounds disingenuous to say that I’m thinking about Zach today — I think of him every day, and I know lots of other people who love him do as well — but this week has been especially difficult.

Ashley, Rosalie and I were fortunate to travel to Michigan to celebrate my mother’s 65th birthday and my grandfather’s 90th. It was a nice (and too short) weekend spent in many places with many people familiar to Zach and filled with memories of him. Late in the day Sunday, as the festivities at camp wound down, I walked to the Outback by myself. Dad wrote a few days ago about how my relationship with Zach deepened in our teenage years and included a picture of the two of us standing by Stony Lake. After much discussion, I’ve figured out that the picture was taken in August of 2001 (the telltale sign is that ridiculous James Hetfield-style goatee I had at the time, which I remember trying to bleach that summer and sported for a few weeks as a freshman at college before cutting it off. Don’t act like you never made any bad grooming decisions at 18.)

Back to the Outback. I signed on to be a counselor in that particular teen camp program in the summer of 2002 after two successful years in the youth camp program. Zach made plans that summer to do a venture out trip at Storer that summer, but they fell through for some reason (possibly he wasn’t old enough to qualify for the trip??) so becoming an Outbacker was the fallback option. It was there that we truly grew close, bonded by the sharing of the program’s tremendous experience. He would return to the Outback the following summer, which would prove to be the final one at Storer for both of us. Last Sunday, I went out there alone thinking it would be a perfect time of reflection on my relationship with Zach and how much I miss him. It was weird…I sat in the fire circle, surrounded by the empty spaces where the hogans used to be, and all I could think about was my own experience at camp…the campers, the counselors, the trips, the laughs, the tears. After 15 minutes or so, I started the walk back to Ashley and Rosalie, feeling guilty because I didn’t spend the time intensely thinking of Zach. Am I moving on?

Fast-forward to Tuesday morning. I’m back at work at the fire station, and the first call of the day is a pedestrian struck by a vehicle. I’ll spare the gory details, but the only thing our crew could do for the victim was cover him with a sheet while police shut down Moreland Avenue for an investigation. It was way too familiar, right down to the pattern of the damage to the front of the pickup truck that hit him. This is the third time since Zach was killed that I’ve responded to a person struck by a vehicle, and it’s not getting easier. I keep my head down and work through it — I love my job, and emergencies don’t stop so I can recover from a personal tragedy. But I’ve spent the 24-odd hours since seeing that particular dead body in a state of numbness.

****

I remember a random conversation with Zach from one of the last times he came to visit us in Georgia. A song by The Airborne Toxic Event was playing on the radio, and he got really excited about the fact that the band name was a reference to a Don Delillo novel.
I brushed it off at the time, because I’d never heard of Don Delillo. Looking back, it’s one of many signs of how well-read and intelligent he was that I kind of ignored because we were too busy watching football or figuring out ways to integrate booze into cooking. It’s something I feel rather ashamed of.

Here’s a song and video that makes me think of him, not only in the lyrics but the words of singer Mikel Jollett on their inspiration:

“I feel very tied to this place and very resistant to its cliches. The SNL skit on Californians is funny and I wonder sometimes if that’s what the rest of the world thinks of us: dithering, spoiled people obsessed with their appearance. I understand it because most of what California exports (besides food) is the culture of white people who moved to Hollywood to get into films and yes many of those people are dithering, spoiled and obsessed with their appearance. But outside of maybe 10 square miles in the heart of Los Angeles, you don’t find many people like that here.”

By the way, if anyone has the time and skills to re-cut that video with scenes from the NorCal, that would be awesome.

Zach loved the state he grew up in, as did I. We talked a lot about how fortunate we were to grow up in Grass Valley; how that realization grew more and more stark as we built our adult lives in southern cities that we didn’t like.

TATE has become one of my favorite bands. I try to read more, to understand the world from an advanced perspective the way Zach did. I still have no idea who the hell Don Delillo is. But nothing makes me think of him and cry like these songs.

“i’ll write your name in stars across the sky/ And we’ll meet somewhere someday and I’ll ask you why…”

Zach speaks

Three posts in one day, wow! Well this isn’t really me, except for this intro. Jeremy called this afternoon and we had a nice Skype session. Rosalie was in high spirits, twirling around half undressed after a chocolate treat. At one point he mentioned the pictures in my first post of today and expanded on the North Carolina story. It struck me that the date was within the time frame of Zach’s diaries. After we finished our conversation, I looked up the September 2012 file and found this description of their holiday:

September 16, peaceful detachment

Yes, it has been a little while since I’ve been here but this time, I have a decent reason. Last weekend, I took my vacation to visit Jeremy, and it feels very very long ago. But I’m going to recap as best I can:
Thursday I got up very early and drove to the ATL. The only real highlight of the trip was taking the wrong exit and going through NOLA instead of bypassing the city. When I got there Thurs Jeremy and I played catch out front, watched TV, and then went up to Ted’s where he works and had extreme milkshakes. Basically, we just sat at the bar and discussed different milkshakes and booze combinations and then asked the bartender to blend them for us. They were fantastic and although I don’t think the booze added much, it was still pretty damn good. I would make the argument that they tasted so good because of the heavy cream included, LOL.
Friday, we got up and drove up about an hour and a half towards the South Carolina/GA border and rafted Section IV of the Chattooga; the river had been running pretty low and it was billed to have some class V rapids along with a lot of III and IV rapids. It was pretty damn fun, although the lack of water made it so that it wasn’t as heart pounding pulse thumping as it could have been. Jeremy made a good point that enjoyed big water more than technical rapids and I have to agree with him. But, with that in mind, it was a banner day: brilliant weather, water that felt good, hardly any actual paddling, and it was just me and him and couple guides in the boat so the conversation was much better than it would have been if we had any gringos. So that was nice. After rafting, we got back on the road for Greenville, with plans to meet Greg for dinner and to crash at his place. As we were driving, we realized we had some time to kill and we were driving right through Clemson, so we stopped for a little while and checked out the campus. It was gorgeous; a small town pretty much with nothing else except the university going on and it just felt peaceful, even with the buzz of a football game that was scheduled for the next day. I immediately loved it. After Clemson, we got into Greenville, met Greg, went out to Thai food and then pretty much passed out.
We got up the next morning (Saturday) with plans to meet Kevin Lausch and go to camp and Brevard. We ate at the Golden Corral breakfast buffet (heavy) and then drove up to Kevin’s camp, which is outside Traveler’s Rest. It was fantastic to see him and randomly Turbo was there as well, so it was a mini-camp reunion. Randomly, Katie Sidman texted me the night before, which was the first time we had talked in probably 2-3 years. After chatting with Kevin for a bit, we hugged him goodbye and went up to camp, where we spent a little while at Pretty Place paying our respects. When we were there, it was overcast so the views weren’t exactly tremendous but it was still a powerful experience to revisit a place that is so deeply entrenched in my heart. After Pretty Place, we drove down into Brevard and had lunch at Pescados, which Jeremy loves but I find pretty average. After Pescados, we drove out into Pisgah to Big East fork, where, for the first time in over five years, we hiked the same trail that I took campers backpacking on during that magical summer. We did the same exact route too and got up onto Shining Rock Ledge where the views are enormous and powerful. The mountain forest is as beautiful as ever. It was an intense hike when it was all said and done: about 7 miles and around 3,000 feet in elevation gain; I was sore. After Pisgah, we were trying to connect with Kelley Clifford and we didn’t really have any definite plans. We elected to go back into Brevard (rather than go towards Asheville) and made the decisions to buffet at Twin Dragons, since we were both ravenous after the hike. At this point, our day had pretty much gone according to plan and I was quite pleased. Then, Kelley decided to meet us in Brevard and got us an in to sleep at the Dill’s in Hendersonville, which was a huge upgrade over our plans to camp somewhere on the side of the road. So we crushed some Twin Dragons (as epic as ever) and then met Kelley at Dollies (a slightly overrated ice cream place but still deep in my heart) and then went out to the Dill’s, where Kelley also was staying. At the Dill’s we stayed up late and drank good IPA’s that Jeremy had brought and had big conversations with Mike Dill and Kelley. I was exhausted and looking forward to the big bed they had prepared but we still stayed up late and loved the conversation. As I write this now, I recall something else: when talking with Mike and Kelley: a feeling of kinship. I found myself saying the words: what we all do professionally, thus implying that we have similar missions. And we do! We are in the business of making people’s lives better. It was a cool moment and it made me realize the inter-connectedness of my camp connections and my rec sports connections.
Saturday was heavy and Sunday we got up, Kelley cooked us breakfast, and then we were on our way to Gorges State Park and Turtleback falls. We found it with a little difficulty, hiked the 1.5 miles down to the falls, and then spent a little while sunning ourselves on the rocks before taking some time to do the water slide over the falls. I hadn’t been there in over 4 years, when Jeremy and Ashley and I had all met there for a 4th of July weekend (that was transcendent in its own right. Also was the last time I had seen Kelley). Anyways, the sun was out, we were the ONLY ones there and it felt very special, as though were an exalted being for enjoying the majesty of those hidden waterfalls. After doing the slide 5 or 6 times, we hiked back out and got back to the car, where we then drove back to Atlanta. At this point, Jeremy and I were doggone tired but we had planned another Epic Mealtime fest for that evening, involving Tequila and mexican food. The problem, however, was that it didn’t flow as nicely as it did when we did it at xmas and Jeremy invited a bunch of really annoying work friends over and they pretty quickly put me out…so after he and I cooked, I basically hid away from the party and chatted with Ashley, who was also pretty annoyed. So it didn’t exactly go as epically as the first time but was still pretty damn fun, overall. It helped that the giants were on TV that night and beat the dodgers, so my mood was improved. I slept in the next morning and then left ATL around 930 and drove back to BR, where reality awaited.
It was an intense 4 days, which is how I like it. Although taking vacations like that don’t exactly make you rested, it was crammed full of good memories and happiness and we didn’t waste much time sleeping. My axiom of the short but crammed vacation still proves true.
One thing about this trip, perhaps above all else: the beauty of that region is still amazing. Although Jeremy is a big proponent of the West, where everything is bigger and more savage and in many cases, just as beautiful, there is something so magical to me about the forests and the waterfalls and the feeling that I’m in the middle of the jungle. And the air! The cold crisp mountain air, even at the beginning of September, just felt right.

Jeremy and Zach

Writing the last post started me thinking more about Jeremy and Zach together. I was originally thinking about the photo from Michigan along with the North Carolina one. I was a little surprised to find that it dated from 2002 because I the process got me thinking about our trip to London in 2000.

Neither boy was very happy about being in London where we spent way too much time going to museums. They were troopers, though, and didn’t complain much. They took solace in each other, I think. My enduring memory is of the two of them walking down the street ramming shoulders into each other. I don’t have any pictures of that but I do have this one:

At the end of the two weeks in London, Jeremy got on a plane for Michigan and his senior year in high school while the rest of us went back to California.

a special bond

While looking for the picture of Rosalie on my phone yesterday, I came across this one. It had no title or other indication of when and where it was taken. I emailed Jeremy and he filled me in.

He said: ‘Picture was taken in the Shining Rock Wilderness in NC. Zach and I went up to the mountains to go rafting, visit Greg McKee and some of our haunts in the Brevard area. September 2012.’

I sense some pain in Jeremy’s response. He and Zach had a special bond as brothers. Now there is a special kind of pain to think about times past with Zach. While they did all the usual things brothers do growing up, I don’t think I really recognized the special bond they had until I saw this picture, taken on the shore of Stony Lake in 2002:

jeremy-zach .

Jeremy was almost 19 and Zach was 13. It was the first indication to me of the adult relationship they had developed. As with the North Carolina picture, they are relaxed and happy to be in each others presence.

It’s kind of not my place to represent the relationship between Jeremy and Zach so I will stop here. I just wanted to share these pictures.

Rosalie

After getting all excited writing and feeling pretty tired at 10:30 last night, I went to bed without taking my usual sleeping pill (generic Benadryl OTC). 3 am came and I woke up and that was it. I was tossing and turning until I gave up about 15 minutes ago (6 am).

But partly what I was thinking about was the lovely post Ashley did on Facebook about Jeremy’s birthday. I thought this photo represented Jeremy at his happiest: walking into the forest with his daughter.

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This, on the other hand, is a vision of this girl at age 25! Try to ignore the foot in the foreground. She looks so sophisticated here! Thinking deep thoughts no doubt. Shades of things to come!

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Jeremy

This blog isn’t really about Zach even though lately he’s been the top topic and his picture is on the front page. As it says on the front page, this blog is about understanding myself. It’s a way to make me write things that are on my mind. It’s been helpful to me to get this stuff out. I would like to generate dialog with others but that has been slow to develop. Hello, reader! Does my writing make you want to respond? Please do!

So, Jeremy. Jeremy started a blog many years ago. I think he was living in Montana then. He wrote something that his mother took exception to and he was upset. He was just being open with his feelings. I remember counseling him that he always needed to remember who his audience was. The subtext there was that if she might read it, then he needed to take that into account when writing. I think the experience took the wind out of his sails and I don’t believe the blog is extant.

Anyway, Jeremy’s birthday is coming up and I sat down this morning with a card to write something to my son. So many things came into my mind that I sat there for several minutes before writing anything. In the end, I wrote something brief and light for the card but I want to go a little longer and deeper here.

When I was a teenager, I railed against my father for his ‘perfect’ life. He went to college, got a job, got married, had kids, bought a house in suburbia … you get the idea. Despite (or perhaps because of) my own wanderings, this model seems to be lodged in my consciousness as an ideal. Jeremy hasn’t followed that path either. He’s done all those things but in a less orderly fashion.

Perhaps that says more about the changing times than it does anything else. Now he and Ashley are plotting to move across the country in an attempt to improve their living situation. How can you not admire that grand vision and steadfast purpose? In the face of unspeakable tragedy, Jeremy showed a grace and maturity that sometimes surprised me. That says more about me than anything else.It’s hard to let go of the idea that your child is in need of your wisdom. Jeremy has plenty of his own, hard-won, wisdom.

So Jeremy I just want to say how proud I am of you and what you’ve accomplished. From your doddering, sentimental dad.

reaction

It’s interesting to read the generally upbeat tone of the last post from the perspective of a few days later. I had left the larger group to their activities and went off by myself, first (after breakfast) heading over to Zephyr Point where Nancy had had the bench installed. I suppose I was technically trespassing as I was not a guest there. No one challenged me and I did not stay long. I was well familiar with the conference center layout and went right to it.

It’s a lovely spot and a lovely bench. The day was the best that Tahoe could offer:

I drove on up the east side to Incline Village, got some lunch and headed down the hill to the Kents in Grass Valley, where I spent a good couple of hours just talking. Then to my brother Tom’s, where the foothill Woods were gathering.

That was very nice. I especially enjoyed watching the cousins play together. We stayed the night at Tom’s and got up early the next day to have breakfast with our former neighbor Patsy. Originally I wasn’t going to go since Nancy was going to be there and I didn’t want to harsh anyone’s buzz. The children prevailed upon me and in the end it was fine. We were both on our best behavior. After breakfast, Emily & Linda loaded their stuff in my car and I took them back to SF to fly home.

All that went well. I felt pretty normal most of the time; no big weepies or anything. I knew I was going to need a nap when I got home. Both nights away had been really short. So the three hour nap Sunday afternoon didn’t surprise me but going to bed again at 8:30 and sleeping to 6 am did. Then Monday morning after I did laundry, I was really tired again and had to lay down some more. I had driven 625 miles by myself from Friday at noon to Sunday at noon with a total of 8 hours sleep.

Jeremy was coming back from Grass Valley and Teresa had a big dinner planned but I was logy the whole afternoon. Finally after they called to say they were there at Teresa’s, I walked over without enthusiasm.

Before I even got in the front door, I was hit with a 3 1/2 year old lightning bolt named Rosalie who doesn’t do sadness. So that was good. We had a wonderful evening. Rosalie wanted to go to the beach and Ashley wanted to go to the pier to look for whales again. Luckily, there is beach near the pier. The whales were still putting on a show and Rosalie played in the sand and watched the birds and fisherfolk. Then we came back and ate and visited some more.

The next morning we saw the Georgia folks off to the airport from Teresa’s. Jane took them in her van. We got one last photo then I headed home for more laundry and cleaning up. Nancy had wanted the oak box that held Zach’s ashes for these last few months so it was gone.

I put Hobbes in my bedroom next to Poochie and took the dead flowers out to Rose’s little Zach garden and laid them there.

I don’t feel sadness so much as I’m just really tired. I’m going back to work today so we’ll see how that goes. I had agreed to work on Friday which would have made four straight long days working. The thought of that was making me weak so I bailed out of that one. Hopefully I can keep it together for today and tomorrow and recover on Friday.

whales

Jeremy, Ashley, Rosalie & Emily all arrived safely in the Bay Area yesterday and we had a lovely day. At this moment, they are in Santa Clara preparing for their drive to Lake Tahoe.

That’s the short version. Now for a longer version.

Sarah came and stayed with me Wednesday night. Jeremy’s family arrived at SFO about 9:30 and Sarah went to pick them up. They got to the apartment & had been there less than 15 minutes when I got the text from Emily that she had landed. Ashley went with me to pick her up at the airport. It was Emily’s first time in California. The San Francisco fog was doing its summer thing: sunny and warm, if a little breezy, at the airport, cool and cloudy at the coast. I was amused to see all the Easterners in T-shirts and shorts. They were amused to see me in my long-sleeved shirt and jeans.

After some lunch, we headed out to Devil’s Slide trail and Zach’s rock. We were joined there by Teresa and Paul, and Joe and the boys. Jane was already in Santa Clara preparing.

It developed that Zach’s rock was less interesting than whales. What I hadn’t realized was that Joe had guaranteed Ashley a whale sighting and she was determined to hold him to it. Although we could see a couple of whale watching boats not far offshore, we saw no whale activity.

After 20 minutes or so of that, Joe got in his car and went down to Half Moon Bay where he spotted some and called us. There we hit the jackpot. First it was just seeing the back of the whale coming up for air but then suddenly one came charging up out of the water with its mouth wide open all only about 100 yards from where we were standing. Jeremy described Ashley as ‘like a 12 year old at a Justin Bieber concert.’ I have to admit it was spectacular. Joe said they were California Grays.

In the course of about 45 minutes of watching, we saw the breaching several more times. I was not quick or lucky enough to get a good picture. This picture gives you an idea of how close they were. About where the guy on the paddle board is.

After that, everyone headed down to Santa Clara to Mom & Dad’s. Rosalie went over to the park and played in the sand with Sarah.

Cubby’s grief; my grief

I called Cubby today & talked to him on the phone. I’ve been trying to work up the courage to do that ever since his wife died on Easter Sunday morning. I sent him a text that morning but every time since when I thought I had a few minutes to call him I found a way to not do it.

I called him earlier in the year when Ronata took a turn for the worse. I had to leave a message and I almost couldn’t get any coherent words out. He’d been struggling with her being seriously ill since her stroke in 2010 & the thought of another death close to me knotted me up completely.

Cubby told me he had to quit his job at the union because he was basically going crazy. He had thought it would be better for him to go back to work but it wasn’t. Now he’s on partial disability while he tries to make sense of his life. He’s in therapy as I am. I told him about the Bereavement Support Group that Kaiser sponsors that has been very helpful to me. He said he would check out their East Bay schedule.

For those who don’t know, the night Zach was killed I was mixing audio for a show at the Herbst and had turned my phone off. Jeremy was frantically trying to reach me and all he could think of was that he had Cubby’s phone number from 3 1/2 years ago when he came out to work out of the hall for a couple of weeks during the busy season. Cubby called Stacey, who was stage managing that night & got her to have me turn my phone on. Cubby told me to call Jeremy immediately. I knew it was bad but I thought something had happened to Rosalie. Never in a million years would I have guessed what actually did happen.

After I talked to Jeremy and started putting the show stuff in order so I could leave – in a daze, thank you Stacey & Smitty – I talked to Cubby again about some other jobs I had scheduled for the next two days.. He told me very forcefully that I needed to get with my family and not worry – indeed, not to even think about – any work issues. He said over and over, ‘Whatever you need, I’ll be there for you.’ And I knew he wasn’t bullshitting because he doesn’t bullshit. He stuck with me on the phone as I was driving to Teresa’s.

So we’re talking today about grief and how it manifests – mostly crying jags. I told him I had been pretty good for several weeks but yesterday out of nowhere I started sobbing and couldn’t stop for about ten minutes. He said yeah that’s weird, the same thing happened to him about the same time.

There’s a lot more to the story of that awful night but for now all I want to do is say I talked to Cubby today & I didn’t start bawling. I guess that’s good.

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