AdamAgain.org

ADAM CONNOR died today, April 25th at 3:30 a.m. He would have been 2 months old on Wednesday. He is survived by everyone. A victim of SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome), a phenomenon whose fatality rates now equal those of AIDS and starvation, Adam will be buried at the Lawrence Arms cemetery in Rockford, Illinois, following a private ceremony on site.

Uncles, aunts, grandparents, cousins and friends of the family will be arriving in town this week in preparation for the funeral. Adam’s parents, Kane and Nancy Connor, are obviously at a loss for words and have declined to comment. Their first and only child, Adam came about after 6 long years of concentrated conception attempts.

Brenda Sexton, a distant cousin of Nancy, was on a plane as soon as she received word of Adam’s demise. Her heart was so touched by the Connor’s loss that she is in the process of setting up a foundation in Adam’s memory. (With the permission of his parents, of course.) “I can’t imagine the hell that Nancy and Kane must be going through right now. All that time. All the trying. For years. And then this…they are heartbroken. I know that. What we are going to be doing in the next week or so -me and my boyfriend Bob- is setting up an organization - AdamAgain.org - where contributions can be made, not to the family, but to directly fund more research in the field of SIDS. It’s time we come up with a cure for this horrible problem. I mean, come on. We’re living in the 21st century.”

When a death like Adam’s happens around us, it is hard to accept the sovereignty of God without shaking our fist in anger. A new, innocent life taken without cause, it seems. And in an instant, we are left with more pain than the child will ever know. To go from the ecstasy of a 6 year dream fulfilled to the devastation of a soul-searching loss in a matter of 2 months is something none of us should have to go through.

Brenda’s thoughts on Adam’s untimely death can provide some choice wisdom for us all: “I look at it this way. And I would never share this with Nancy and Kane. Not yet, at least. Not until they’re ready. But it’s a choice. Really. You can spend a whole lot of time. Years and years, agonizing over the “why” of the whole thing. Why it is so unjust in our eyes. Why God would even choose bring a baby into this world for 2 months and then steal him away. But you’d just keep hitting a wall. You’re never going to get it. That’s not our job. But what you can do is use it. Use this horrible experience as an impetus to be proactive. For once in your life. I know this is not my child, but I definitely feel changed because of what happened to Adam. And I’m not going to just sit around anymore. I’m 32 years old, but I suddenly feel like I’m 16 again. Because I’m going to do something with my life. Finally. Something that matters. You know?”

Our thoughts and prayers are with Nancy and Kane Connor during these difficult times. May you find some rest in all the unrest.

COAL MINER

EDWARD WRIGHT died to day April 18, 2005 while emailing a client. Edward, unbeknownst to him, but emailed by him, quite commonly, had esophogial cancer. He informed all his clients as he harvested them. He often told his clients of his great struggle in Third World Hospitals and his inability to write emails every day but somehow he manged to pound the keys and get the job done.

You see, Edward, was a Nigerian Email Scammer. Apparently he had millions in diamonds and even more in cash that he needed help moving around through various banks in various countries. He lived with his wife, Omoalis, and his two children, Emerus and Jack. Jack, being the oldest was being trained at the time of his father's death. Even he was unaware of his father's real name when it came time to fill out his obituary. His son was only able to gather his father's greatest traits by reading the replies of his scams. Ususally the first of the emails. Definitely not the latter.

Not much was known about Edward. His English was as poor as he. He lived in a modest surroundings which greatly refelected his seeming inability to gather any sort of income through his ventures. In fact, he lost a total of $1,463.98 in phone calls and mailed documents. But there he was, on a cot in Nigeria, dying of the very ailment he claimed to have been stricken with for he past ten years. His inability to talk moved his son Jack up the ranks to Head Communicator since his English was best. Not best used. But better than others. Seymour Butts was the last to communicate with the now deceased Ed. "I don't know, I really looked forward to his emails every day. They made me laugh. You know?"

It's hard to say if he will be missed. According to the last emails of 138 clients, "I hope you die of your esophogial cancer and go to hell."

The first, yes. The latter, well, we're not quite sure.

The Poet of Amhurst

EDMUND EUGENE WHITE died today, April 18th at 8:35 a.m. He was 75 and the self-declared poet laureate of Amhurst County, in the mountains of Virginia. He will be greatly missed. He left behind no family, but a legacy that will champion him a permanent fixture of the Blue Ridge for years to come.

Spring arrived early for Amhurst this year, and with it, fields (or rather mountains) of vibrant green grass. Seems Edmund was trying to resolve the problem with a makeshift riding lawn mower. The incline of the mountain in front of his trailer was just too steep. The mower tipped over, taking Edmund with it for a significant roll down the side of his property and into a drainage ditch. Which is where he expired. Upside down with a riding mower on top of him. Still running. The pressure was too great for his heart to take. They also think the water in the ditch might have contributed to his demise. But none of this happened before Edmund found a way to leave us with one last piece of his art.

“Edmund White has always been such an institution up here. Even the ones who didn’t know him knew him from his poems. He wrote on trees. The side of sheds. The tire shack. His words were everywhere. And they was beautiful. They said everything that is great about Amhurst.”
Raymond Chandler, (not the writer), plans on leaving the riding lawnmower where it was found. Upside down in Edmund’s ditch. And the trailer, which was left to the good people of Amhurst, will be handled by Chandler, as the “estate caretaker”. After going through all of Edmund’s things, he will turn it into a museum, to display all the pieces of his poetry that Edmund left behind.

“We might have to go cut down some trees and such, and Jimmy Bylar might lose his barn, but it’s for a good cause. Maybe we can raise a little interest in tourism for Amhurst. Who knows. Edmund had all the power of a saint.”

We leave you with the poem found etched in the seat of the riding lawnmower. They are still not sure exactly how he did it. Teeth maybe. They’re thinking. Anyway, maybe Edmund was leaving a final message to all the Amhurstites or maybe he was just scared of dying. You be the judge:

This grass is my last
Fields of it cloud my mind
The smell of gasoline
The hint of what’s left behind
Help me…

Hoobastank

WILLIAM (BILLY) WEBB died today, April 14th at 2:35 p.m. He was 26. The son of famous novelist, James (Jimmy) Webb, Billy was a construction worker on the north side of Chicago. And nobody really knew him. Other than his girlfriend, Marla Fincher, 24. And the guys on the site.

Having eaten a late lunch at Subway, Billy and Todd Stevens, of Even Stevens Construction, returned to the site of a house remodel at the 4500 block of Ainslie Street. Billy was on the roof with a nail gun correcting some minor problems that had arisen in the short time they had been gone.

“I told him I was so sick of hearing that Hoobastank album and if he didn’t change it or at least switch on the radio, I was gonna’ use the nail gun on him. I feel really awful now.” - Todd Stevens on the site after the incident.

Evidently, while Billy was trying to adjust the radio at Todd’s request, he slipped and fell off the roof. The fall itself would have only caused minor scrapes and bruises, but he carried the nail gun with him. All the way to the ground. In an effort to brace his fall, the gun discharged in his hand and two 4 inch coppers went through Billy’s chin and straight into his skull. He died instantly.

“After he fell, we were all so busy trying to get help that we didn’t even notice that infernal album playing in the background. The one he was trying to stop when he fell. It played all through the time the paramedics were here and long after they took him away. I think my feelings have changed now. I’m going to talk to his father about having it played at his funeral. I don’t know if he’d be too cool with that though. Hoobastank at a funeral? I don’t know. I just think it’s appropriate.” - Todd Stevens, again.

Marla is in Indiana visiting relatives and couldn’t be reached for comment at the time of this release, although she has been informed of Billy’s death. And we expect she will be in therapy within the week. Jimmy Webb, whose current novel, The Revelations of a Left Behind Purpose Filled Life, is number one on the NYT bestseller list, expressed his sadness over the loss of his only son, but added, “If William had gone into a more white collar profession, as I have encouraged him to do for years, I have to believe that none of this would have happened. Writers don’t use nail guns.”

“He’s an idiot. No respect. No love whatsoever. I don’t care how big shot a writer he is. All us guys are going to show up at that funeral, and we are going to play Hoobastank. For Billy. For his life.” - Todd Stevens, once again. (Upon hearing the words of Billy’s father)

Tunnel 10

MARTY MCMASTERS died today, April 7th, at around 2:00 in the A.M. He was 42. Drummer for the band Tunnel 10, who rose to moderate fame in the U.S. and parts of Europe during the early 90’s, McMasters decided to take his life into his own hands. In other words, he killed himself. Dead by a self-inflicted gun shot wound.
A private memorial service will be held on Saturday in Virginia Beach, VA. It is expected to be attended by the likes of Geddy Lee, Dave Grohl and Larry Mullen Junior (who is taking precious time off from U2’s Vertigo tour to pay his respects.)

Tunnel 10 has not had an album out since 1999 and there have been questions in the press for some time as to whether there would ever be new material released. The lead guitarist for the band, known only as Automatic, made a statement to the press in 2002, promising that their long-fabled album of earlier material and demos, Chinese Republicans, was completed and that Tunnel 10 was merely working out some logistics with their record label. However, this has been disputed countless times by the label, claiming that this record of “mystery material” does not exist. And let’s be honest, we, the general public, have still not seen song number one.

While Automatic confesses that he has had no official contact with McMasters since 2002, the other remaining member of Tunnel 10, bassist and keyboardist, Zoy Quoi, was in communication with him up until 2 days ago.
“I have no idea why he did it. As far as I could tell, Marty was fine. We were talking about finding distribution for the album. A possible tour. Things were great. At least, I thought they were.”
When asked whether McMasters suffered from depression, (the leading cause of suicide), Quoi said, “Absolutely not! Marty was so even keel. He never did any drugs either. He was clean. The man was practically a saint.”

Even if Chinese Republicans is released, (which now I am positive it will be, given the fact that dead people sell lots of albums), we will probably never know what was going through the mind and heart of Marty McMasters. Those mysteries are for God to sort out. What we do know is that the rock world lost a genius today. I guess the statement that nobody alive could hold the beat on a song like “The Salvation Navy” really holds true now.

Even though the band was never able to keep it together past a span of 5 short years and 2 albums, they were an amazing five years in the world of popular music. And even though today brings the sad news that McMasters couldn’t keep it together himself and felt he had to resort to suicide to solve his problems, we can’t help but feel sorry for him. I only hope that whatever demons plagued him, they have now been absolved. Rest in Peace.

The Shadow of an Angel

SUZETTE PETROVSKI died today, April 4th, of no apparent reason other than the end of her life. She was 104, and she peacefully slipped away in the home of her daughter, Matreena Slavok, 76, who had cared for her mother the better part of 24 years.

A devout Catholic, Suzette still attended mass on a regular basis and was actively involved in her church, thanks mostly to Matreena and a devout group of friends at St Gregory’s in downtown Bangor, Maine. She, in fact, had been one of the hundreds in attendance at Saturday night’s service, marked by a special vigil for the loss of John Paul II. It would be one of her last memories.

“She was very broken up over the loss of the Pope,” said Matreena. “Her Pope, she called him. In her own heart, I think she always felt that they were kindred spirits in a way. She had the opportunity to visit Vatican City in 1978, shortly after he was appointed, and it was something she always talked about. It’s kind of apropos that they…expired so close to each other. Maybe they passed on their way up.”

When asked about the particular calm way Matreena seemed to be handling her mother’s death, she remarked, “mom’s lived a very full life. Very satisfied every step of the way. And she slipped away so quietly and peacefully. I know that I have been taking care of her for a while, but to be honest with you, she still took care of me most of the time. She was very giving. And in perfect health. Really. Up until the time she stopped breathing today. I really believe the only reason she’s gone now is because God said ‘Alright, it’s time you come to me Suz’. She was just that kind of person.”

After St Gregory’s gears down from their ‘death of the Pope’ activities, (hopefully in the next couple of days), a memorial service will be held for Suzette. I wasn’t able to get any comment from clergy there, but we’re sure they have their hands full right now. Evidently, Suzette has provided quite a service to the parish, remaining faithful to the very end, heading everything from a full-blown soup kitchen to an urban outreach ministry. I’m sure the church will miss her soon enough. As will all that knew her. As soon as they find out. For this writer, it seems a shame that as a world mourns God’s appointed to the Catholic church, one of his ‘lesser angels’ should slip into eternity without the shedding of tears. Maybe on Tuesday when the homeless show up for their soup.