I was thinking about Frank today. It’s been twelve years since he killed himself.
He was a bear of a guy, an avid Dead fan with a sweet and gentle soul and a way with a guitar. (Many’s the night we stayed up late, jamming on Robert Earl Keen songs and arguing about the merits of Iris DeMent - him pro, me con. Hey Frank, you were right.)
But he also had a coke habit, one he solved by taking a trip to rehab and subsequently becoming an alcoholic instead.
He became deeply depressed. I warned him alcohol was a depressant, that if only he’d stop drinking, he’d feel better (or at least, less bad), but he didn’t believe me. He had demons I could only imagine.
He didn’t show up at my fortieth birthday party, and he didn’t call; I was a little pissed. It was a few days later when I got a call telling me that on my birthday, Frank shot himself in the head with a shotgun. His mother found him.
I always think of him when I hear this Robin Holcomb song:
Put pen to the paper and sign
In lines on both sides of your hand you can read
What settles out at the bottom of a bottle of wine
Are promises and lies you can choose to believe
When rivers won’t leave you alone
Your words cast a shadow, try to fill in their form
Lay your hat on the table, oh I’ll take your side
The mirror allows what the darkness divides
You’ll never tell all that you know
In spite of the shelter, the storm will still blow
Through the pastures of safety
May you plow the straight line
Walk slow with a swing in, the river will rise
Pass under my window and wave
Sirens yell at each other, I don’t hear your name
Spin hard in a circle if you want to go down
Sing praises to the neighbor who is tending that ground
Rockabye
There’ll be a blanket to cover you
When you go down
Rockabye
There’ll be a blanket to cover you
When you go down
What you learn from the bottle is true
One is too many but two are too few
Line up the small glasses
Oh tell me, what have you heard?
There’s not a thing to laugh about
Tonight in this world
You made me call all over town
You’re easy to lose when you want to be found
I remember the room lit by one brilliant light
Throw the windows wide open
We’ll sit in the dark tonight
Rockabye
There’ll be a blanket to cover you
When you go down
Rockabye
There’ll be a blanket to cover you
When you go down.
Happy birthday, again, Suz…
Now stop it. You are not responsible for what your friends do, or did.
I understand why the good doctor did as he did…
Happy birthday. I’m sorry about Frank.
I never felt responsible. I was angry, which eventually turned to compassion and acceptance.
Its hard to assimilate. All I can say is that people value you and care about you.
Happy Birthday Susie. You’re very important to me. I visit most every day.
Sleep well Frank.
Regarding Iris, I’m with you. I actually heard her last night sing two or three songs at an Amy Goodman thing in Kansas City.
Her songs were really good and she was doing what was almost a jam with Greg Brown. I liked Brown. Iris’s voice sounds like a mechanical rasp of some kind. Anyway…..
Gug