This story is a continuation of my 10 part series entitled Andrea Donovan.
_________(1)________
Standing Tall:
I had never met Danny Wickersham, but like most people my age I had grown-up listening to his poetic lyrics and the hard pumping riffs of his electric guitar within the legendary band "Duxford Airfield" - America's very own "British rock band" as it was often described.
Andrea and I remained standing with Helen Lunsford and the dozens of other people, whom I didn't know, now in attendance.
" - and it is with great sadness that we commence his body to the earth now as we mourn the loss of this dear friend. - A man who never knew a stranger, a man who intentionally sought out the wayward souls of this world so he could buy them a meal and listen to their life's stories with genuine interest at heart. Danny was a man who had been described by many as 'The Gentle Giant' and he was a man who dearly loved children and animals - although he had no children to call his own. Washed in the blood of Jesus Christ, he now resides in another world, free of the sorrow and deceit of this earthly world, free of trouble and decay..." the Father presiding over the service now professed.
Obviously Danny Wickersham had been a Catholic I surmised.
...A large and muscular man, Danny had stood around six foot, three and a half, I seemed to remember hearing in a radio program interview once. With his trademark facial scars and blonde ponytail "The Velvet Soprano", really, from my own recollections of the band's album covers and the photographs now displayed before me, Danny had been a rather homely guy in my opinion. Yet women had been drawn to him like crazy, apparently because of his easy going nature and ever present boyish grin. Danny had possessed the grin of a mischievous little boy that, for some reason, seemed to drive women wild.
Andrea squeezed my right hand a little harder and I could see from the corner of my eye that Helen's emotions were all over the map right now, complete with genuine heartfelt tears. Helen was losing it and she was becoming a sobbing mess. Andrea released Helen's hand and put her right arm around the other girl to better console her. I squeezed Andrea's other hand a little tighter in reassurance as the three of us stood abreast.
The black robed clergyman continued "... - a man not without humor, for who could forget the shenanigans' of Danny Wickersham, a friend once remarked..."
...The tall skinny guy facing me, in white coat and tails, remained standing and motionless, his white top-hat still held respectfully in his hands while his long dish-water blonde hair waved with occasional wisps of wind. Glancing up at him and studying his demeanor briefly, I guessed that he was probably around twenty years of age and had probably never done a single day's work in his life....I wish my hair was still that thick I thought silently....I kept trying to decide if the guy was really grieving the loss of Danny Wickersham or if he was just a "Hanger-on" trying to get-in and rub elbows with famous people...lot of those types here today I speculated as I quickly glanced around at all the strange attire and expensive sunglasses within the crowd again.
In studying the crowd closer, I seemed to recognize some of the other band members, obviously they were older now than when they had first appeared on the album covers of Duxford Airfield. Ann Brown was present and seated next to Wendy Weeds, the band's female vocalists. Duxford Airfield's drummer was also in attendance but I couldn't remember his name at the moment, he seemed to have aged the best out of all the other band members and he was standing next to a very attractive lady which was obviously his wife, the two looked like avid health nuts....I knew that Brian Merrill, the bass player, was dead now and had been for many years.
Out of boredom I began to randomly study some of the other, more anonymous, people standing in the crowd with us.
There were several women, bordering on anorexia and wearing too much make-up, the whole gaggle of them looked as if they'd been exotic dancers at one time - decades before. There was also one guy, who was about sixty years old, that now openly wept as he held tightly onto an old battered electric guitar in the same manner in which a young kid holds a stuffed animal....Off to my right there was a tall fat kid that stood motionless with his back to the rest of us as he mourned, his arms at his sides and forehead resting on a headstone. Another guy, seated within the front row of the crowd, was having a hushed and very intense conversation with his friends, whom no one else could see...
Yup...the gang's all here. I thought solemnly with sigh.
The Padre's words rolled onward with " - Danny's gift to this world had been his love for playing music and reciting poetry to us which seemed to reach in and touch our very souls in a way which no one else in this world ever could..."
...We'd been standing here for twenty minutes now and I still wasn't sure if the person in the purple cape, standing to our left, was a man or a woman yet, but we were presently in Beverly Hills so maybe it really didn't matter I reasoned with a another sigh.
I suddenly seemed to hear my mother's voice interrupt my thoughts with a harsh "Why are you standing in judgement of these people? They've done nothing wrong to you yet you've already condemned them in your mind. Don't EVER ridicule another person's grief, son!"
...Maybe I was being critical, maybe most of these people really were grieving the loss of a beloved friend. Maybe I could show some empathy and comfort them with a few words of encouragement. Maybe I could act the way a gentleman was suppose to act.
God, I hate funerals...
Apparently Andrea and Helen went, way-back in time, with Danny and the rest of the band. From what Andrea had told me, they'd shared some wild times during their youth together, thirty years ago.
The Gentle Giant now lay before us after having walked upon this earth for just over eighty one years. He had, in my estimation, brought joy to many a soul over the years and admittedly, mine included. Duxford Airfield, an L.A. band, did have the distinct "British Sound" of the late nineteen sixties and early seventies and they'd had one album that went solid gold before disbanding, in nineteen seventy one, I think...
Mom had been a moderate fan of Duxford Airfield and she'd had two or three of their LPs within her collection at one time, I seemed to recall.
...Andrea was holding Helen with both arms now and they were both weeping openly.
It was hard for me to see Andrea cry...
...(sigh)... fuck. I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead.
Tuning out all the people around us now, my mind began to drift.
...Tomorrow we should be back home in Arizona City and then I could start helping Ricky dig the hole for Andrea's swimming pool again....I still wasn't sure if I was going to retire yet but I did know that I was going to take this summer off and work on the Gingerbread Ranch, or "Lazy-G Ranch" as we fondly called the place. Aside from installing a swimming pool, Ricky and I also wanted to resurface the roof of the little Texaco.
...Helen Lunsford, who now stood within Andrea's arms, was going to publish Danny's biography. Apparently she had written many such books concerning the greats of rock and roll, and she was said to be an extremely gifted writer.
(sigh...) I straightened my back and shifted the weight on my feet for the twentieth time in five minutes. Maybe it was boredom from standing here or maybe I was just out of my comfort zone, maybe it was both...
Standing still now, my mind soon wandered off again as I stood and looked toward the horizon of distant buildings and blue sky.
...Maybe Andrea and I can find a good movie to watch when we get back to the hotel this evening, I hope so.
My God, I just want to be alone with my wife and relax, away from all these damn people.
I wish we could go for a bicycle ride after we leave here.
Did I see a Subway close to the hotel this morning?...Seems like we did.
I sure could use another cup of coffee right now...
We head back for Tucson at ten A.M. tomorrow morning, right?
- Andrea knows what time we get on the plane, that's all I need to know...Alaska Airlines, I think.
Andrea, I'd be lost without her.
I shrugged dismissively and I came back to the present as the eulogy continued. " - a friend to so many and, in some ways, a great mystery to the multitudes. Yet, are these not the very same traits of so many of the world's great poets and composers with whom we have come to love so dearly within the history of music and literature throughout the ages of time? Danny Wickersham, himself, once stated that a philosopher often understands himself less than those around him do..."
I closed my eyes again and ran a hand through my hair as more random thoughts flicked through my mind.
...From what Andrea had told me, I guess Helen had just turned sixty and recently been dumped on her ass by her long time significant other whose name was "Tim" of all things. Helen wasn't taking it too well either, from what I gathered from Andrea. I had just met Helen, the previous evening, when Andrea and I had stepped off the plane.
Helen was just under five feet, four inches tall, I guessed. She was slender and relatively athletic with a thick greying - blonde mane. Obviously an intelligent lady, Helen was affable and would compliment any man who publicly strode arm in arm with her.
Leaning my head forward, I closed my eyes again and massaged the back of my neck with a firm hand as my mind rambled onward with more disconnected thoughts.
...I would imagine that the pump unit and some of the outer fittings for the swimming pool should arrive this week. I want to erect the pumphouse close to the stables and out of the way but Ricky and I still needed to study the proper installation specifications of the pump and other components as of yet...
- I'll call him tonight, I nodded to myself.
...Apparently Helen wrote under the pen-name of Kathryn Dalloway - hell, I may even have read one or two of her books over the years it now occurred to me.
It suddenly dawned on me that Danny Wickersham's biography would now be an autobiography...
I returned to the moment as the priest read something from Scripture and then continued the eulogy with "And according to Danny, - a day without humor among friends, is a day that has been sadly wasted. LAUGH, he had always encouraged those around him with a pat on the back! And so it is, that even though our hearts are heavy with grief today, we can still barrow the faith and wisdom of our departed friend and find humor in this moment."
The priest now gestured toward the hearse which was hooked to a U-Haul trailer. The implication playing on the old adage "I never saw a hearse pulling a U-Haul trailer" - meaning "You ain't taking anything with ya when you leave this planet".
Danny Wickersham had loved poetry, music and people, maybe he really HAD taken it all with him, I now pondered.
