Welcome

The first time I met Gary Hartley we stayed up late into the next morning listening to Peter Gabriel and Genesis in his small bedroom in Bloomingdale. It was the mid-eighties and my friend Steve Thompson who was obsessed with obscure, eclectic music parked his white nova in the parking lot of Gary’s childhood home. That evening, we all forged a friendship over the intricate patterns of cerebral prog–rock including Yes, Frank Zappa and Gary’s favorite – King Crimson.

Fast forward that moment twenty–six years if you will.

This past weekend, I had just finished my Saturday morning pancake ritual with Perkins with Hafiz and there it was on my smart–phone. Gary’s oldest daughter Haley had posted the notice for a memorial service on Facebook. Gary died Saturday morning after a long bout with ALS at the age of 51 and I regret to admit – I didn’t know.

In a few moments, my day clouded into another reflection of time and my own battle of attention to those “things that really matter.”

I should have paid more attention to Gary’s photos. Sure, I saw the photos in front of a King Crimson concert performance, a video of Robert Fripp, Frank Zappa and other humorous quotes over time via our shared social network. That was the Gary that I knew.

What didn’t occur to me were the images of the treatments which began last January and the photos with his family on holiday. At the time, those images were just another flurry of “vacation” photos I scanned without any real understanding of the situation.

To my friend Gary – I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to formally say “Goodbye” and more important I wish I would have been able to play this song for you.

I don’t know when he told me, but “Here Comes The Flood” was one of his favorite songs and tonight, I can’t help but add that to my own playlist in his honor. I’ll always remember this and some reason, it’s my own quite eulogy to this man loved by many.

Earlier this evening, I stood in the long line of friends and family at Grace Fellowship in Kingsport. There were several faces aged by the years and others who probably didn’t remember my name either as the years have moved our circles away from each other.

Gary’s son Alex and his two young daughters had compiled an appropriate soundtrack of Brian Eno and Robert Fripp. I had met the oldest daughter Haley when she was born in the “Fifties” on Hammond Avenue in Kingsport. I lived across the street at the time, fresh from my separation and watched as their young family grew. Together with his joyful wife Sonya, they raised a wonderfully warm family – one that Gary was deeply proud of.

The thing I remember most about Gary was the way he listened to me when we were together. Even though we didn’t cross paths much in this small town – each encounter was treated with his undivided attention. I believe this is something a lot of other people saw too and besides the music, that’s another thing I would like to thank Gary for this evening. His concern and attention for others was always above himself and that in itself is a character trait that will always inspire me.