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create_destinyMy good friend, Jeff Brunson of Ft. Wayne, Indiana passed away two days ago after a brief struggle with cancer. As far as I know he had only been diagnosed a couple of weeks ago. But the diagnosis was pretty bleak: cancer in his brain, his liver and his bones. He was only 44 years old.
Scanned photos of Jeff taken in the early 1990's--In our backyard with our new kitten & Manic journalist at work in our tiny apartment.
I met Jeff in 1990 when we were both poor college students. When he found out that I had a secret crush on him we started going out. He became my first "co-habitation boyfriend." We lived together for about 2 years until he morphed into the brother I never had and I had to end our relationship. It just felt too weird to make out with my brother. But we remained great friends. After I left Ft. Wayne, he stayed in contact with my folks and would bring his new girlfriends to their house for BBQs and euchre.
But man, the times we had when we were together were some of the best in my life. Protests, Grateful Dead shows, Pints of Ben & Jerry's Rain Forest Crunch and The Simpsons on a Sunday night.
Jeff was a major leftist activist and I was a major feminist activist and together we fought the man. He was the editor-in-chief of the school newspaper and he shook things up on campus with his critical, first-rate investigative journalism. So naturally, in this conservative community, the school administration and a few jealous editors had to take him out. He was forced to resigned.
I myself, would have laid down and died from the devastation of having my dream taken away from me, but Jeff had the most buoyant spirit of anyone I have ever personally known. He saw this change of events as an opportunity to resurrect an old leftist rag called, "The Ft. Wayne Free Press." He published several incredible issues before funding ran out and he moved on to a variety of other projects, one of which was sponsoring leftist documentaries to be shown on a public access television station in Ft. Wayne.
Not only was Jeff a hell of a journalist, he was also an incredibly talented and funny cartoonist, a writer of fiction, a gardener, a rabble rouser, an extremely intelligent guy with a great sense of humor and a heart too big for this world.
Performance protest with Jeff. Mark Giaquinta was a city council member who was virtually in bed with the local chemical waste dump that sought expansion. We both have cigars in our mouths and I'm handing him a wad a cash.
Christmas 1991? Pictured from left to right: my beloved soul-mate and sister Karma, my Mom Maggie, my Dad Larry, my nephew Curtis when he was just a tiny babe, my awesome sister Cathy, my groovy brother-in-law Brian, and the one and only Jeff Brunson.
Scanned photos of Jeff taken in the early 1990's--In our backyard with our new kitten & Manic journalist at work in our tiny apartment.
I met Jeff in 1990 when we were both poor college students. When he found out that I had a secret crush on him we started going out. He became my first "co-habitation boyfriend." We lived together for about 2 years until he morphed into the brother I never had and I had to end our relationship. It just felt too weird to make out with my brother. But we remained great friends. After I left Ft. Wayne, he stayed in contact with my folks and would bring his new girlfriends to their house for BBQs and euchre.
But man, the times we had when we were together were some of the best in my life. Protests, Grateful Dead shows, Pints of Ben & Jerry's Rain Forest Crunch and The Simpsons on a Sunday night.
Jeff was a major leftist activist and I was a major feminist activist and together we fought the man. He was the editor-in-chief of the school newspaper and he shook things up on campus with his critical, first-rate investigative journalism. So naturally, in this conservative community, the school administration and a few jealous editors had to take him out. He was forced to resigned.
I myself, would have laid down and died from the devastation of having my dream taken away from me, but Jeff had the most buoyant spirit of anyone I have ever personally known. He saw this change of events as an opportunity to resurrect an old leftist rag called, "The Ft. Wayne Free Press." He published several incredible issues before funding ran out and he moved on to a variety of other projects, one of which was sponsoring leftist documentaries to be shown on a public access television station in Ft. Wayne.
Not only was Jeff a hell of a journalist, he was also an incredibly talented and funny cartoonist, a writer of fiction, a gardener, a rabble rouser, an extremely intelligent guy with a great sense of humor and a heart too big for this world.
Performance protest with Jeff. Mark Giaquinta was a city council member who was virtually in bed with the local chemical waste dump that sought expansion. We both have cigars in our mouths and I'm handing him a wad a cash.
Christmas 1991? Pictured from left to right: my beloved soul-mate and sister Karma, my Mom Maggie, my Dad Larry, my nephew Curtis when he was just a tiny babe, my awesome sister Cathy, my groovy brother-in-law Brian, and the one and only Jeff Brunson.
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Date: 2007-05-19 05:30 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2007-05-19 07:22 pm (UTC)I know he'd be so proud to have inspired it--and of you.
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Date: 2007-05-19 07:45 pm (UTC)That's a pretty special picture, that last one.
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Date: 2007-05-19 08:27 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2007-05-19 10:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-20 12:32 am (UTC)I always really admired Jeff, even though I didn't know him all that well. I wish I could've gotten a chance to know him better, under more favorable circumstances.
The past few days I've been strangely, compulsively downloading a whole bunch of old Bad Religion albums that I no longer have originals for, and specifically I've been listening to 'Against The Grain' over and over again. The song "Turn On The Light" has been sticking out in my head very strongly, and now that I know this about Jeff's passing, it makes a really weird sort of sense in that 'collective-consciousness' sort of way.
Turn On the Light
I had a friend who kept a candle in his pocket,
he used to touch it when the wind was blowing high,
I guess it made him feel like he could buck the system
and when it flickered out we laid him down to die,
turn on the light,
turn on a million blinding brilliant white incendiary lights,
a beacon in the night,
I'll burn relentlessly until my juice runs dry
I'll construct a rack of tempered beams and trusses
and equip it with a million tiny suns,
I'll install upon the roof of my compartment
and place tinfoil on my floor and on my walls,
then I'll turn on the light.....
and I'll burn like a roman fucking candle,
like a chasm in the night,
for a miniscule duration,
ecstatic immolation,
incorrigible delight
Rest well Jeff, and thank you for inspiring those who knew you to burn bright.
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Date: 2007-05-20 03:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-20 07:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-20 11:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-20 07:39 pm (UTC)My condolences for your loss.
Your tribute is right on. A tight snare for a heartbeat.
God bless.
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Date: 2007-05-20 08:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-21 02:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-21 02:54 pm (UTC)