Jonathan's birthday is October 11th.
He would be 39.
He'll never, ever grow old.
Light a candle for him.
Hug someone.
Think "love."
Jonathan's Mom
Monday, October 6, 2008
"When Autumn Leaves Start to Fall...."
Jonathan's birthday is October 11th.
He would be 39.
He'll never, ever grow old.
Light a candle for him.
Hug someone.
Think "love."
Jonathan's Mom
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Thank You, "Michael"
Thank you so much for the "word tribute" to Jonathan. His life truly was a beautiful tapestry, just as you have woven it together, with such love and thoughtfulness, for us to see. Your kindness is a big part of my healing process. Thank you again.
Jonathan's Mom
Jonathan's Mom
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Time Traveller
I’ll tell them all you’ve gone to San Francisco
I haven’t got a clue when you’ll be back
You’ve always had an appetite for travelling
And now, it seems, you’ve tried a different track.
That rainy night they told me you had “passed away”…
That crazy call, it made no sense to me
The only way to wrap my head around it
Was rushing to you there so I could see.
Your arms were cool and soft beneath my fingers
I stroked them with a purpose for awhile
I swore I felt a pulse there in the veins beneath your skin
And you looked as if,
At any moment,
You’d wake up
And smile.
How does one accept the fact a loved one’s “gone away”
That the house the spirit lived in is no more
How will my tomorrows feel without you here today
Tapping at the window…coming in the door.
I’ll just pretend that you’re in San Francisco
You’ll write or call as soon as things slow down
I’m sure you’re busy making friends, but don’t forget I’m here
And, meantime, I’ll just say you’re out of town.
By Patricia White
(Jonathan’s mother)
I’ll tell them all you’ve gone to San Francisco
I haven’t got a clue when you’ll be back
You’ve always had an appetite for travelling
And now, it seems, you’ve tried a different track.
That rainy night they told me you had “passed away”…
That crazy call, it made no sense to me
The only way to wrap my head around it
Was rushing to you there so I could see.
Your arms were cool and soft beneath my fingers
I stroked them with a purpose for awhile
I swore I felt a pulse there in the veins beneath your skin
And you looked as if,
At any moment,
You’d wake up
And smile.
How does one accept the fact a loved one’s “gone away”
That the house the spirit lived in is no more
How will my tomorrows feel without you here today
Tapping at the window…coming in the door.
I’ll just pretend that you’re in San Francisco
You’ll write or call as soon as things slow down
I’m sure you’re busy making friends, but don’t forget I’m here
And, meantime, I’ll just say you’re out of town.
By Patricia White
(Jonathan’s mother)
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Here, There, and Everywhere
(Three Zen poems for Jonathan)
Thick growths
of old trees
clasped hands overhead
Rhododendrons
on either side
stretched on and on
toward the sound
of falling water
tumbling noisily
down a rocky chute.
Breezes,
flower-fragrant, cool,
rushed toward us
dancing playfully
over our faces.
Was that you?
-----------------------
We walk down
the woodsy path
side by side
Invisible you
squeezed in the middle
holding our hands
smiling.
-------------------------
Outside the cabin
near Dingman's Falls,
David plucks at his guitar,
hums,
jots lyrics on a note-pad,
polishes "Looking for Jonathan"
...
hopes you'll hear his song.
-----------------------------
Patricia White (Jonathan's mother)
Thick growths
of old trees
clasped hands overhead
Rhododendrons
on either side
stretched on and on
toward the sound
of falling water
tumbling noisily
down a rocky chute.
Breezes,
flower-fragrant, cool,
rushed toward us
dancing playfully
over our faces.
Was that you?
-----------------------
We walk down
the woodsy path
side by side
Invisible you
squeezed in the middle
holding our hands
smiling.
-------------------------
Outside the cabin
near Dingman's Falls,
David plucks at his guitar,
hums,
jots lyrics on a note-pad,
polishes "Looking for Jonathan"
...
hopes you'll hear his song.
-----------------------------
Patricia White (Jonathan's mother)
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Poem for Jonathan
Looking for Jonathan
by David Reichenbacher
I'd like to think that you're still here
Beside me when I walk
I feel your breath upon my face
At the door, I hear your knock.
On these city streets, you're everywhere
Your reflection's in the glass
I think I hear your voice on the bus
Or in the car that drives past.
You're everywhere around me
Your spirit fills the air
Your peace and warmth surround me
Stay with me, everywhere...
The leaves above, they spread apart
The sun comes shining through
And then I see your brilliant smile
And then I know it's you.
They say that life is but a dream
And death is just as strange
Cuz neither one is real to me now
They both seem just the same.
You're everywhere around me
Your spirit fills the air
Your peace and warmth surround me
Stay with me, everywhere...
Come sit with me, talk to me now
Come tell me how you feel
I feel your arms around my chest
I know you're just as real...
I know you're just as real.
by David Reichenbacher
I'd like to think that you're still here
Beside me when I walk
I feel your breath upon my face
At the door, I hear your knock.
On these city streets, you're everywhere
Your reflection's in the glass
I think I hear your voice on the bus
Or in the car that drives past.
You're everywhere around me
Your spirit fills the air
Your peace and warmth surround me
Stay with me, everywhere...
The leaves above, they spread apart
The sun comes shining through
And then I see your brilliant smile
And then I know it's you.
They say that life is but a dream
And death is just as strange
Cuz neither one is real to me now
They both seem just the same.
You're everywhere around me
Your spirit fills the air
Your peace and warmth surround me
Stay with me, everywhere...
Come sit with me, talk to me now
Come tell me how you feel
I feel your arms around my chest
I know you're just as real...
I know you're just as real.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
For Jonathan Gorrie, by Robert Schreur
For Jonathan Gorrie, Not Fade Away
When I moved away he wondered why
I would unload all those LP's on him.
Um, I said, they're heavy? And you're
next door? But really it was the 50's car
he'd somehow parallel park on Union Ave.,
his pork pie hats, and Lambs Eat Ivy,* his
crooked smirk, Charlotte's cat eye glasses.
Who else should have those vinyl Dylans
and Bowies and Tinklers and Herman's Hermits
and Screamin' Jay Hawkins's? Who else
but you, Jonathan? to play loud and long,
the needle popping in the dusty grooves?
______
*Heads bowed in reverence.
When I moved away he wondered why
I would unload all those LP's on him.
Um, I said, they're heavy? And you're
next door? But really it was the 50's car
he'd somehow parallel park on Union Ave.,
his pork pie hats, and Lambs Eat Ivy,* his
crooked smirk, Charlotte's cat eye glasses.
Who else should have those vinyl Dylans
and Bowies and Tinklers and Herman's Hermits
and Screamin' Jay Hawkins's? Who else
but you, Jonathan? to play loud and long,
the needle popping in the dusty grooves?
______
*Heads bowed in reverence.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Thank You
The Memorial Party for Jonathan on Sunday, June 29, was the most sweet, loving, poignant event I've ever experienced. It touched my heart deeply to see how many people, even from other states far away, came to say goodbye and pay homage to Jonathan. By being there, they showed how much they cared, and loved him...and he was certainly easy to love. None of us want him "away"...but I'm sure he will be part of us forever. He left a unique and glowing imprint on our lives.
Charlotte, Jonathan's brothers, my husband David, and I appreciate so much that wonderful, affectionate gathering.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Jonathan's mother
Charlotte, Jonathan's brothers, my husband David, and I appreciate so much that wonderful, affectionate gathering.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Jonathan's mother
Monday, June 30, 2008
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Tomorrow
I was thinking about Jonathan a lot today, sitting in the woods and trying to hear his voice; later a line came into my head: "if you don't come to my party tomorrow, this is the last thing I'm ever going to invite you to".
It's true- but I don't know if Jonathan would have ever really said that. I don't think I really knew him so well that I could say what he might really say if he were here. I think he would be making a joke- but I'll be there. I think he would dance at my memorial service if he could.
What did occur to me today, in the woods, is that every day that we have is one more day than we were promised. When we give our children life, we also give them death- but they, and we, change the world forever by their, by our, existence and it is sweet beyond words- and sad, too, but I, for one, am very grateful to have known Jonathan for the relatively short time that I did. I am so grateful that he walked this earth for each of the days that formed him into the person that he was.
It also occurred to me that we kind of have to accept the past or live in it forever; we can't really accept the future because we aren't there yet, it has not been given to us, so we don't really have to worry about accepting or rejecting it. We probably have to try to accept the present moment, as best we can, or this gift of life that was given to Jonathan for 38 years will have been wasted on us. I'm not there yet, at "acceptance", but I will be one day. In the meantime, I'll be there tomorrow and I will dance as best I can.
It's true- but I don't know if Jonathan would have ever really said that. I don't think I really knew him so well that I could say what he might really say if he were here. I think he would be making a joke- but I'll be there. I think he would dance at my memorial service if he could.
What did occur to me today, in the woods, is that every day that we have is one more day than we were promised. When we give our children life, we also give them death- but they, and we, change the world forever by their, by our, existence and it is sweet beyond words- and sad, too, but I, for one, am very grateful to have known Jonathan for the relatively short time that I did. I am so grateful that he walked this earth for each of the days that formed him into the person that he was.
It also occurred to me that we kind of have to accept the past or live in it forever; we can't really accept the future because we aren't there yet, it has not been given to us, so we don't really have to worry about accepting or rejecting it. We probably have to try to accept the present moment, as best we can, or this gift of life that was given to Jonathan for 38 years will have been wasted on us. I'm not there yet, at "acceptance", but I will be one day. In the meantime, I'll be there tomorrow and I will dance as best I can.
Friday, June 27, 2008
From Robert Goldrick
I am very sad that we will not be in town for the memorial service, in fact we return Sunday night.
The celebration of Jonathan’s life is not to be missed. Both Jennifer and I think of Jonathan and his family everyday. It’s truly very difficult to grasp what has happened and the our world will never be the same. We really wanted to be a part of this celebration. Please know that our thoughts are with you, Charlotte, and everyone Jonathan has touched.
Love,
Robert Goldrick
The celebration of Jonathan’s life is not to be missed. Both Jennifer and I think of Jonathan and his family everyday. It’s truly very difficult to grasp what has happened and the our world will never be the same. We really wanted to be a part of this celebration. Please know that our thoughts are with you, Charlotte, and everyone Jonathan has touched.
Love,
Robert Goldrick
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Medical Note, for those of you wondering...
...how and why Jonathan died so young, so unexpectedly:
the Medical Examiner found the cause of his "sudden cardiac arrest" was Acute (Type 2) Aortic Dissection. The wall of his aorta was weak and began leaking and tearing, then gave way. This is why he couldn't be "saved", in spite of all the extraordinary measures taken.
Why such a tragedy occurs in so young a man, with such a healthy lifestyle, we can't know.
The doctor said it was probably congenital.
Jonathan's Mom
the Medical Examiner found the cause of his "sudden cardiac arrest" was Acute (Type 2) Aortic Dissection. The wall of his aorta was weak and began leaking and tearing, then gave way. This is why he couldn't be "saved", in spite of all the extraordinary measures taken.
Why such a tragedy occurs in so young a man, with such a healthy lifestyle, we can't know.
The doctor said it was probably congenital.
Jonathan's Mom
"Snoopy"
"Snoopy"
I first encountered Jonathan --- What! 19 years ago? (Was it my imagination, or did he have a shock of white or gray hair on top of his forehead? He told me it turned that way prematurely. I don’t see it in any of the posted pictures. (Don’t tell me it was a ruse.)
Jonathan made an appearance on the set of “Cry Baby” one night during a string of all-night shoots at the Milford Mill Swim Club. I was a Drape” (wallpaper, really). He seemed older than 19 (maybe it was just the hair) --- but, then --- I also seemed younger than my years (can’t blame it on my hair). The whole Cry Baby experience (for me) was essentially one extremely long, warm night, and it was difficult to stay awake. I didn’t know anyone. Thankfully, one particular evening a seemingly quiet, “aloof” individual showed up. He knew who I was --- but, I didn’t know him. (Apparently, he had seen my headshot at the casting agency.) We ended up “hanging out” on a picnic table --- literally --- hanging over the side of the table. We became fast buddies. It was a pretty boring shoot (when aren’t they?) when he wasn’t around. On other nights when he would show up, we’d sit at a piano, goofing off, trying to keep ourselves awake. Things got sooooo dull we even played “Read my mind” (a reeeeally short game). I told him he reminded me of a character in Peanuts… he said I must’ve seen the binder he carried with him. I hadn’t. The cover was adorned by the ubiquitous, “happy-footed” Snoopy--- his nickname-sake ---- or, so he said. He said he actually wanted to be Snoopy. Okay, fine. From then on he was “Snoopy”.
Snoopy and I continued to hang out after the movie had wrapped. We were both musicians with eclectic taste who were mutually --- totally --- “in like” with Robert Fripp --- a lot. We were thrilled to know about his school in West Virginia (Did he ever sign up for a workshop? I was too much of a chicken to do it.). We went to hear Fripp and 12 of his students, The League of Crafty Guitarists, at the Walters Art Museum. We were wall-eyed from the music --- rocking back and forth in our seats. (Fripp is hypnotic --- X’s that by 12 players all playing the same thing and you’re in a trance.) I don’t know many other people with whom I can practice synchronized rocking in public and not bother to care about appearances. Unlike some folks, Snoopy was not fazed by my largely geeky body language.
On that note, I also don’t ever recall meeting anyone else with whom I communicated so much through choreography…. Snoopy was taffy --- flexible, bendable, and so-very-stick-able. Linking arms with him was par for our course--- even if we happened to be standing back to back. He was fly paper, a game of Twister, Velcro, or a piece of tape that magically appears on one’s shoe and can’t be removed by a curbside --- a ball of goof. This was a friendship; a “ship” sans the “relative density” of a romance (I was actually dating another Jonathan at the time, mind you) --- BUT --- this was Snoopy! Not just some guy I knew randomly --- even if he was just some guy I happened to encounter randomly --- sort of. --- Okay, maybe, not really --- kinetics and the collision theory --- covalent bonding? I don’t know. “Just” a friend --- but, “just” just doesn’t describe him justly, does it?
One night he came out to see my band perform. He had made the mistake (?) of telling me earlier that day that he had let a blind cat loose in the building where he lived. One that he had taken in to his loft, but was not able to keep because of issues involving another cat … so, he let it go in the garage area of that massive building. I went to the gig with a flashlight and a can of cat food. Immediately after playing, I made him go cat hunting with me (Forget socializing). I didn’t let him off the hook. I was pissed off! It was not a successful hunt. I couldn’t believe he did it. And, I wouldn’t let him think it was funny --- blind cat, or not. (I hear him giggling that “muffled” giggle of his. That was a giggle that punctuated many sentences in our conversations. Translation: Another gotten goat [Forget about the cat].)
Sad to say, I lost track of Snoopy. Our orbits just “plane” shifted. I am so glad to read here that he had such a great life. Perhaps now he’s getting to experience that primordial cosmic energy he tried to capture when he was building the “Orgone Acculmulator Box” way back when, when I knew him when, for a little while. He’s probably reading minds right now (now he has the unfair advantage).
I just wanted to share. Best wishes to all his loved ones. Something tells me he’s more than okay --- and --- still around. It’s hard to shake flypaper.
Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, All!
Mandy
I first encountered Jonathan --- What! 19 years ago? (Was it my imagination, or did he have a shock of white or gray hair on top of his forehead? He told me it turned that way prematurely. I don’t see it in any of the posted pictures. (Don’t tell me it was a ruse.)
Jonathan made an appearance on the set of “Cry Baby” one night during a string of all-night shoots at the Milford Mill Swim Club. I was a Drape” (wallpaper, really). He seemed older than 19 (maybe it was just the hair) --- but, then --- I also seemed younger than my years (can’t blame it on my hair). The whole Cry Baby experience (for me) was essentially one extremely long, warm night, and it was difficult to stay awake. I didn’t know anyone. Thankfully, one particular evening a seemingly quiet, “aloof” individual showed up. He knew who I was --- but, I didn’t know him. (Apparently, he had seen my headshot at the casting agency.) We ended up “hanging out” on a picnic table --- literally --- hanging over the side of the table. We became fast buddies. It was a pretty boring shoot (when aren’t they?) when he wasn’t around. On other nights when he would show up, we’d sit at a piano, goofing off, trying to keep ourselves awake. Things got sooooo dull we even played “Read my mind” (a reeeeally short game). I told him he reminded me of a character in Peanuts… he said I must’ve seen the binder he carried with him. I hadn’t. The cover was adorned by the ubiquitous, “happy-footed” Snoopy--- his nickname-sake ---- or, so he said. He said he actually wanted to be Snoopy. Okay, fine. From then on he was “Snoopy”.
Snoopy and I continued to hang out after the movie had wrapped. We were both musicians with eclectic taste who were mutually --- totally --- “in like” with Robert Fripp --- a lot. We were thrilled to know about his school in West Virginia (Did he ever sign up for a workshop? I was too much of a chicken to do it.). We went to hear Fripp and 12 of his students, The League of Crafty Guitarists, at the Walters Art Museum. We were wall-eyed from the music --- rocking back and forth in our seats. (Fripp is hypnotic --- X’s that by 12 players all playing the same thing and you’re in a trance.) I don’t know many other people with whom I can practice synchronized rocking in public and not bother to care about appearances. Unlike some folks, Snoopy was not fazed by my largely geeky body language.
On that note, I also don’t ever recall meeting anyone else with whom I communicated so much through choreography…. Snoopy was taffy --- flexible, bendable, and so-very-stick-able. Linking arms with him was par for our course--- even if we happened to be standing back to back. He was fly paper, a game of Twister, Velcro, or a piece of tape that magically appears on one’s shoe and can’t be removed by a curbside --- a ball of goof. This was a friendship; a “ship” sans the “relative density” of a romance (I was actually dating another Jonathan at the time, mind you) --- BUT --- this was Snoopy! Not just some guy I knew randomly --- even if he was just some guy I happened to encounter randomly --- sort of. --- Okay, maybe, not really --- kinetics and the collision theory --- covalent bonding? I don’t know. “Just” a friend --- but, “just” just doesn’t describe him justly, does it?
One night he came out to see my band perform. He had made the mistake (?) of telling me earlier that day that he had let a blind cat loose in the building where he lived. One that he had taken in to his loft, but was not able to keep because of issues involving another cat … so, he let it go in the garage area of that massive building. I went to the gig with a flashlight and a can of cat food. Immediately after playing, I made him go cat hunting with me (Forget socializing). I didn’t let him off the hook. I was pissed off! It was not a successful hunt. I couldn’t believe he did it. And, I wouldn’t let him think it was funny --- blind cat, or not. (I hear him giggling that “muffled” giggle of his. That was a giggle that punctuated many sentences in our conversations. Translation: Another gotten goat [Forget about the cat].)
Sad to say, I lost track of Snoopy. Our orbits just “plane” shifted. I am so glad to read here that he had such a great life. Perhaps now he’s getting to experience that primordial cosmic energy he tried to capture when he was building the “Orgone Acculmulator Box” way back when, when I knew him when, for a little while. He’s probably reading minds right now (now he has the unfair advantage).
I just wanted to share. Best wishes to all his loved ones. Something tells me he’s more than okay --- and --- still around. It’s hard to shake flypaper.
Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, All!
Mandy
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Friday, June 20, 2008
6/29- Memorial Tribute to Jonathan at Joe Squared
Lania says: We have secured Joe 2 (Joe Squared- across the street from Load of Fun Studios) as a place for all of Jonathan's family and friends to gather together in tribute to his great life.
A tribute to Jonathan Gorrie
Sunday June 29th 4-6 @ Joe2
133 W. North Ave.Baltimore, MD 21201
410-545-0444
Please join us to celebrate and remember Jonathan with his family, friends & his band, The Bobwhites.
Joe2 is a restaurant (great pizza) and bar with a performance space. The stage will be set and hopefully The Bobwhites will share a song or two, maybe something from Liz Downing & Michael Willis..... ? Bring your instrument or your stories or just join us.
Jonathan & The Bobwhites performed in this location recently and had a great time. To check out Jeo2 and get directions, please go to http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendID=50388512
Annette says: Please let us know if you might be coming so we can get a head count of some kind- bobwhites6@hotmail.com. Thank you!
much love,
Annette
A tribute to Jonathan Gorrie
Sunday June 29th 4-6 @ Joe2
133 W. North Ave.Baltimore, MD 21201
410-545-0444
Please join us to celebrate and remember Jonathan with his family, friends & his band, The Bobwhites.
Joe2 is a restaurant (great pizza) and bar with a performance space. The stage will be set and hopefully The Bobwhites will share a song or two, maybe something from Liz Downing & Michael Willis..... ? Bring your instrument or your stories or just join us.
Jonathan & The Bobwhites performed in this location recently and had a great time. To check out Jeo2 and get directions, please go to http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendID=50388512
Annette says: Please let us know if you might be coming so we can get a head count of some kind- bobwhites6@hotmail.com. Thank you!
much love,
Annette
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Heartfelt Thanks from Jonathan's Mom
The tributes to Jonathan, from Michael's beautiful, heart-breaking song and photo display to all the other pictures and tender memories so many others have put on this site, have filled my heart with enormous gratitude and love for you all. This is such a gift, this outpouring of affection and remembrance for my dear son. You are helping me through this raw and painful time, more than you can know, even as I cry...and cry. You are all a comfort to me and a part of my healing. I embrace all of you through the ether, as Jonathan...in his essence, spirit, new magical form...is surely embracing us...and smiling.
You can't see him in your mind without seeing that smile.
Thank you again, so very much.
Patricia White
Jonathan's mother
You can't see him in your mind without seeing that smile.
Thank you again, so very much.
Patricia White
Jonathan's mother
Posting by Tim Clark
One of the fond memories I have of Jon is of a fall day in Maine, I'd say the year was 1986 and I was walking up the Gore Road. I'd finished practice and jumped off the after school bus at the Terrell's house where the Gore Road began at the fork and was walking home. I'd made it about a third of the way when a car passes me and slows down to a stop. I want to say it was a brown Nova, but couldn't swear to it, however, I can say that when I reached for the passenger door the car lurched forward with a start. I thought, OK, someone's having some fun with me, well they did it two more times, at this point I'd thought, "nope not falling for it again" and as I started to walk past without reaching for the door, the passenger door flew open and it was Jon and Mark McKay, they were both giggling and laughing which I couldn't help but burst into laughter as well. It was one of those times that we all laughed as I got in the car and we rode off for the house. We three prattled on about nonsensical and whimsical things the rest of the way as the day grew dark. Again this is one of the memories I have of Jon being a good soul and helping someone but at the same time being a trickster. I'm truly saddened to hear of his passing and wanted to share the memory.
- Tim Clark
- Tim Clark
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Charles Theatre marquee
Dear family and friends of Jonathan,
Here is a photo of the Charles Theatre marquee, taken Tuesday, June 17. Jonathan could not have had better company on his journey than Tim Russert, that's for sure. And he would have a couple of good laughs about the film title shown next to his name, though we have shed yet more tears.
We would like to thank our dear friend, Georgia Parker, for requesting this tribute. She is a dedicated volunteer for the Sunday Cinema at the Charles. Buzz Cusack, who works at the Charles, made sure the tribute was added to the marquee; and he posted Jonathan's obituary (Baltimore Sun) in the lobby as well. Such kindness -- we can't thank them enough.
Much love,
Ellen and Jim Adajian
Memories of Jon
Memories of Jon
I want to share some stories from a long time ago. Maybe remembering some of those things that make me smile (as most memories of Jonathan do) will help lessen the hurt I feel, and my deep regret I never had a chance to reconnect with Jon other than a phone call or two over these many years.
I'm one of the people from the back woods of Maine, and I knew Jon in high school. We used to hang together, jam together - for a while we were best friends, and there was a time in my life I can't remember a day when we weren't together. My dad is this mime that has been mentioned - Tony, who passed away in 2002. Jon spent a lot of time up at our house - the "barn" - and I stayed out at his house.
I've always been very bad with memory. But I do retain feelings, atmospheres, images. I can never remember where they fit in the scheme of things, but I remember what's essential.
Most images with Jon consist of late night jams, driving about, talking late into the night or clear into the morning. Listening to Kate Bush, wondering if there could possibly be any other woman as perfect as Kate Bush. Wondering if Kate Bush was married. Roxy Music. Talking Heads. John Lurie. English Beat. Down by Law. The uber-ugly yellow Chevette he drove that summer we went to take summer English classes in Auburn (me so I wouldn't have to repeat my senior year, he I think so he could graduate early...) Something about winning a pig? I used to drive him nuts when I spent the night at his house by waiting just until the moment he fell asleep and then poking him.
I think about his guitar. The smell of the faux-fur lining inside. Amps and cables. Flangers and other effects. Picks. Carrot and Yipe-a-Jipe Bumblebee. How when Jon wanted to say thank you, he'd say "Thanks, Bang!" (no recollection why now - I think he just thought it was funny. Which it was.) The blue Falcon convertible he drove later on in California - driving around in that thing under the sun, someone wearing a scarf on her head (was that Charlotte?) as we drove up to Point Reyes lighthouse. The last time I saw him, from the window at Kirkham St, waving him off in his van - heading back east. Figuring I'd see him sooner or later somewhere.
But my life took a series of unexpected detours, and by the time I found my way back, 15 years had passed. But I've always felt close to Jon. He still remains a part who I am. I wish I had told him that.
Jon did remarkable things with his heart. I remember a time when Jon and our friend Mike started getting tight - hanging out more with each other than with me, and one night at the Pizza place in town, they were having private laughs together, not letting me in on it, in that way that all teenagers can do, and I was hurt. And I told them that I felt separated from them - like a new wall had somehow appeared, and I felt like I somehow got on the wrong side of it. Well, Jon saw what I was saying right off, and - bam - the wall was gone. He simply didn't have the capacity to be cruel. The moment he saw I was really suffering, he was right back there with me.
I guess over time more will come back to me. My overall image of Jon is this gigantic heart, and this overriding sense of silliness. A big laughing heart... I wish my heart could feel like laughing right now. It still doesn't. But I'm thankful for Pat and David's spirituality - it gives me some comfort to know that the people who loved Jon can still feel him here. His was the kind of presence that never dissipates.
My deepest love and support is going out to Jon's family and all the friends he's found over the years.
Thank you,
Adam Montanaro
I want to share some stories from a long time ago. Maybe remembering some of those things that make me smile (as most memories of Jonathan do) will help lessen the hurt I feel, and my deep regret I never had a chance to reconnect with Jon other than a phone call or two over these many years.
I'm one of the people from the back woods of Maine, and I knew Jon in high school. We used to hang together, jam together - for a while we were best friends, and there was a time in my life I can't remember a day when we weren't together. My dad is this mime that has been mentioned - Tony, who passed away in 2002. Jon spent a lot of time up at our house - the "barn" - and I stayed out at his house.
I've always been very bad with memory. But I do retain feelings, atmospheres, images. I can never remember where they fit in the scheme of things, but I remember what's essential.
Most images with Jon consist of late night jams, driving about, talking late into the night or clear into the morning. Listening to Kate Bush, wondering if there could possibly be any other woman as perfect as Kate Bush. Wondering if Kate Bush was married. Roxy Music. Talking Heads. John Lurie. English Beat. Down by Law. The uber-ugly yellow Chevette he drove that summer we went to take summer English classes in Auburn (me so I wouldn't have to repeat my senior year, he I think so he could graduate early...) Something about winning a pig? I used to drive him nuts when I spent the night at his house by waiting just until the moment he fell asleep and then poking him.
I think about his guitar. The smell of the faux-fur lining inside. Amps and cables. Flangers and other effects. Picks. Carrot and Yipe-a-Jipe Bumblebee. How when Jon wanted to say thank you, he'd say "Thanks, Bang!" (no recollection why now - I think he just thought it was funny. Which it was.) The blue Falcon convertible he drove later on in California - driving around in that thing under the sun, someone wearing a scarf on her head (was that Charlotte?) as we drove up to Point Reyes lighthouse. The last time I saw him, from the window at Kirkham St, waving him off in his van - heading back east. Figuring I'd see him sooner or later somewhere.
But my life took a series of unexpected detours, and by the time I found my way back, 15 years had passed. But I've always felt close to Jon. He still remains a part who I am. I wish I had told him that.
Jon did remarkable things with his heart. I remember a time when Jon and our friend Mike started getting tight - hanging out more with each other than with me, and one night at the Pizza place in town, they were having private laughs together, not letting me in on it, in that way that all teenagers can do, and I was hurt. And I told them that I felt separated from them - like a new wall had somehow appeared, and I felt like I somehow got on the wrong side of it. Well, Jon saw what I was saying right off, and - bam - the wall was gone. He simply didn't have the capacity to be cruel. The moment he saw I was really suffering, he was right back there with me.
I guess over time more will come back to me. My overall image of Jon is this gigantic heart, and this overriding sense of silliness. A big laughing heart... I wish my heart could feel like laughing right now. It still doesn't. But I'm thankful for Pat and David's spirituality - it gives me some comfort to know that the people who loved Jon can still feel him here. His was the kind of presence that never dissipates.
My deepest love and support is going out to Jon's family and all the friends he's found over the years.
Thank you,
Adam Montanaro
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Jonathan, a gentle soul
Jonathan came into my life in 1982, when I met his mother through her writing. He, his brother Chris, and his mother were living in a humble home in the back woods of Maine. Gradually, Jonathan and Chris accepted me in their lives as the love between their mother and me grew. Our relationship had it ups and downs, but in its own time became strong as trust among us grew.
Jonathan is one of the finest human beings I know. He was and is an inspiration to me. His gentle sweetness and generosity were of guru proportion, something I can only hope to attain someday. I felt like his father, like his friend, but most of all, an admirer.
I watched him grow from the age of twelve when I met him, finding his way through music and the arts, pantomime and film, as he grew into adulthood, exploring, communing with his muses and sharing those visions with the people around him.
I feel Jonathan is with me now. I see his smiling gentle eyes in the dark at night, when I can’t sleep, because I miss him. May he forever be with me and the people he loved.
David, his stepfather and friend
Monday, June 16, 2008
Photo of Jonathan at Joe's Birthday Party
I didn't know Jonathan very well, but knew him as a neighbor, a nice guy and as a good friend to my good friend Joe Witkowski. I hope you enjoy this picture of Jonathan pretending to pour Ketchup on him at Joe's birthday gathering at the Brewer's Art in March of 2008.
My thoughts go out to Jonathan's family and friends, wishing you all comfort at this time -
Kira D.
from Robert Goldrick, dear friend of Jonathan
Jonathan and I met in the kitchen at Martick’s Restaurant; we were instantly great friends.
We talked about the meaning of life while peeling shrimp or washing piles of dishes. We loved working there together. It was a dynamic place, especially with Morris badgering you all the time and you never knew what to expect. A slow night could quickly turn and all of a sudden we’d be slammed, and there was always the possibility of the surprise Health Inspector visit.
We spent a lot of time playing guitars together too. He taught me a lot. We could play just a chord or a few notes and Jonathan turned it into a song. And he was so funny, gentle and wise. So natural, just like the music he played.
We took this photo of us ourselves; playing music, goofing and having a great time. I kept it on my refrigerator for years.
We were neighbors too and after Jennifer and I moved to Hampden we ran into Jonathan and Charlotte often. We’d always make plans to get together and occasionally we did. Cookouts, play some music, or whatever it didn’t matter. It was always a good time.
We would also always talk about going back to Martick’s and visiting Morris.
We had really loved it there; peeling shrimp, making salads and living in the moment.
Jonathan was great at that.
Robert Goldrick
We talked about the meaning of life while peeling shrimp or washing piles of dishes. We loved working there together. It was a dynamic place, especially with Morris badgering you all the time and you never knew what to expect. A slow night could quickly turn and all of a sudden we’d be slammed, and there was always the possibility of the surprise Health Inspector visit.
We spent a lot of time playing guitars together too. He taught me a lot. We could play just a chord or a few notes and Jonathan turned it into a song. And he was so funny, gentle and wise. So natural, just like the music he played.
We took this photo of us ourselves; playing music, goofing and having a great time. I kept it on my refrigerator for years.
We were neighbors too and after Jennifer and I moved to Hampden we ran into Jonathan and Charlotte often. We’d always make plans to get together and occasionally we did. Cookouts, play some music, or whatever it didn’t matter. It was always a good time.
We would also always talk about going back to Martick’s and visiting Morris.
We had really loved it there; peeling shrimp, making salads and living in the moment.
Jonathan was great at that.
Robert Goldrick
A Little Zen, for Jonathan
God
must have invented Grief
So we wouldn't get too hooked
On Happiness.
The night he died
The sky exploded in tears
We drove through black
rushing cataracts
To see his body.
No moon lit the way.
Nothing so still
As my sleeping son
Whose heart
has ceased
to beat.
What is the sound
of one heart breaking?
What is the sound
of a thousand?
I hear mine
above the rest.
In direct proportion
to the intensity
of my love:
The pain of my loss.
How to deal
with such grief:
I sob loudly,
I scrub pots.
Two weeks, tomorrow.
Enough! he says.
Rent a silly movie
Laugh with me.
John
George
Jonathan
No need for Paul and Ringo!
Listen.....
His Dad
was there
to greet him.
So happy.
One mirrors the smile
on the other one's face.
I am rowing
my little boat
gently
down the stream.
From the bank,
Jonathan smiles merrily,
waving.
I like this dream.
by Patricia White
Jonathan's mother
must have invented Grief
So we wouldn't get too hooked
On Happiness.
The night he died
The sky exploded in tears
We drove through black
rushing cataracts
To see his body.
No moon lit the way.
Nothing so still
As my sleeping son
Whose heart
has ceased
to beat.
What is the sound
of one heart breaking?
What is the sound
of a thousand?
I hear mine
above the rest.
In direct proportion
to the intensity
of my love:
The pain of my loss.
How to deal
with such grief:
I sob loudly,
I scrub pots.
Two weeks, tomorrow.
Enough! he says.
Rent a silly movie
Laugh with me.
John
George
Jonathan
No need for Paul and Ringo!
Listen.....
His Dad
was there
to greet him.
So happy.
One mirrors the smile
on the other one's face.
I am rowing
my little boat
gently
down the stream.
From the bank,
Jonathan smiles merrily,
waving.
I like this dream.
by Patricia White
Jonathan's mother
from Ellen & Jim Adajian
Remembering Jonathan
Jonathan was our friend, part of our “shop family” here on Clipper Mill Road in Hampden. He was part of the team of Jonathan & Bob who came to work Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday for six years. In the northeast corner of the shop, Jonathan repaired antique tables, sofas, beds, chests, cabinets, clocks, boxes, and more. He made dog-chewed legs good as new. He replaced lost carvings. He glued down hundreds of bits of veneer with the eye and patience of a jigsaw puzzle pro.
Jonathan’s work was the art of returning broken things to good use, the art of making things last longer, the art of making people happy with what they already had. His work was the art of renewal.
That his good, gentle heart could not receive any of these things at the end, is our deep sorrow. We loved him very much, and it was for all the things everyone else loved him for.
On his last day in the shop, Jonathan sang a song for us, and the best line of it is: “My life has meaning now, I am a window and all things seem clear to me now like a light in the storm…”
May that light ever shine upon him.
Ellen and Jim Adajian
Adajian & Nelson
Jonathan was our friend, part of our “shop family” here on Clipper Mill Road in Hampden. He was part of the team of Jonathan & Bob who came to work Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday for six years. In the northeast corner of the shop, Jonathan repaired antique tables, sofas, beds, chests, cabinets, clocks, boxes, and more. He made dog-chewed legs good as new. He replaced lost carvings. He glued down hundreds of bits of veneer with the eye and patience of a jigsaw puzzle pro.
Jonathan’s work was the art of returning broken things to good use, the art of making things last longer, the art of making people happy with what they already had. His work was the art of renewal.
That his good, gentle heart could not receive any of these things at the end, is our deep sorrow. We loved him very much, and it was for all the things everyone else loved him for.
On his last day in the shop, Jonathan sang a song for us, and the best line of it is: “My life has meaning now, I am a window and all things seem clear to me now like a light in the storm…”
May that light ever shine upon him.
Ellen and Jim Adajian
Adajian & Nelson
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Photo of Jonathan sent by Ellen & Jim Adajian
Many thanks for setting up this space for Jonathan and for his family and friends.
Ellen and Jim Adajian
posting from Mike Willie
We had gigs in California and headed north from LA to SF in a rented van. On the way, we drove for miles and miles through a dusty grey industrial style cattleyard. Beef on either side of the road, as far as one you could see. After we returned to Baltimore, Jonathan gave me a photo he'd taken. He titled it "Old McDonald Had A Farm." He was smart and funny.
Mike Willis
Mike Willis
Friday, June 13, 2008
A Song for Jonathan
A Song for Jonathan
(by his Mother)
One foot in front of the other
One more sweep of the broom
Dishes to wash
Phone calls to answer
Anything to try
to chase the gloom.
This hole in the heart has no exit
No place for the anguish to go
Rivers of tears
Pushin' at the floodgates
Tryin' to find a calmer place to flow.
Why did the Boy on the Grecian urn
Vanish ahead of his time?
And why did a son...
sweeter than honey...
Leave the world when he was in his prime?
One foot in front of the other
One more letter to write
Can't let it "get" me
Spirit won't let me
Gotta' find a way to see the light
'Cause everything
he left behind
was bright.
Patricia White
(by his Mother)
One foot in front of the other
One more sweep of the broom
Dishes to wash
Phone calls to answer
Anything to try
to chase the gloom.
This hole in the heart has no exit
No place for the anguish to go
Rivers of tears
Pushin' at the floodgates
Tryin' to find a calmer place to flow.
Why did the Boy on the Grecian urn
Vanish ahead of his time?
And why did a son...
sweeter than honey...
Leave the world when he was in his prime?
One foot in front of the other
One more letter to write
Can't let it "get" me
Spirit won't let me
Gotta' find a way to see the light
'Cause everything
he left behind
was bright.
Patricia White
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Posting from Nancy
Hi,
I am attaching a picture of Jonathan I took of him at the Walker Arts when we played there so many years ago. Can you please post it ?
I guess like everyone I am reeling from the shock of Jonathan's death. It just doesn't seem possible. The earth is a poorer place without him here with us. I haven't seen Jonathan much since the Lambs, but he will always have a very special place in my heart.
I am attaching a picture of Jonathan I took of him at the Walker Arts when we played there so many years ago. Can you please post it ?
I guess like everyone I am reeling from the shock of Jonathan's death. It just doesn't seem possible. The earth is a poorer place without him here with us. I haven't seen Jonathan much since the Lambs, but he will always have a very special place in my heart.
Nancy
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Remembering Jonathan
I was very sad to hear of Jonathan's passing. Jonathan and I worked together when he was with us at the casting agency on Cry-Baby and other projects. I never knew him to be anything other than funny, creative, supremely subtle, calm, endearingly quirky, and just plain cool.
We laughed a lot. I could throw him a look and he'd crack up as if he knew what I was thinking. I kept repeating the same inside jokes we had and he'd laugh just as hard each time. Somehow, he got my sense of humor. But really I think Jonathan laughed and smiled so easily because he had this remarkably gentle, kind spirit.
Though it had been several years since I last spoke to him, something would make me think of him now and then. Such thoughts came just a few weeks ago, as if we were back in the office ten years in the past, sharing a chuckle.
Thank you for the tea and laughs, Jonathan. I miss you.
-- Adam F.
We laughed a lot. I could throw him a look and he'd crack up as if he knew what I was thinking. I kept repeating the same inside jokes we had and he'd laugh just as hard each time. Somehow, he got my sense of humor. But really I think Jonathan laughed and smiled so easily because he had this remarkably gentle, kind spirit.
Though it had been several years since I last spoke to him, something would make me think of him now and then. Such thoughts came just a few weeks ago, as if we were back in the office ten years in the past, sharing a chuckle.
Thank you for the tea and laughs, Jonathan. I miss you.
-- Adam F.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Nearly twenty years of friendship…. this is our story with Jonathan….
In 1989, Jon (Maxwell) and I were working at the “old” Charles Theatre and were living in an apartment on St. Paul Street. We had talked about looking for a roommate to share the rent, given that we both generated our meager salaries working at the Charles Theatre.
Just a few weeks earlier, Jonathan had arrived in Baltimore from Maine looking like a strange punked-out Daniel Boon. He was staying with a friend who also working at the Charles Theatre at the time and he was hanging around the theatre catching free flicks and meeting new friends. I barely knew him, but he struck me as a charming fellow and one day I just casually said we were looking for a roommate. Without hesitation, he said he was looking for a place to live in Baltimore and let’s give it a go. Jonathan moved into our apartment with his guitar and one suitcase containing mostly books the next week. That’s how it began.
How was I to know? We would all move a few months later into the “Copy-Cat” building and remain roommates for six years with the addition of Charlotte during the last two- three years; that Jonathan and Charlotte would be the “make-shift best man and maid of honor” in our “half-baked” wedding at the “Copy-Cat” which included a performance by Lamb’s Eat Ivy; that Jon and I would be the “make-shift best man and maid of honor” at Jonathan and Charlotte’s “half-baked” wedding which included a trip to West Virginia; that Jonathan and Charlotte would eventually become the “make-shift godparents” of our son Ian and that we would share many other events and changes together- remaining friends for so long.
How was I to know how amazed I would be by Jonathan’s creative spirit ….that I would love him and miss him so much now?
Chrissy and Jon
Just a few weeks earlier, Jonathan had arrived in Baltimore from Maine looking like a strange punked-out Daniel Boon. He was staying with a friend who also working at the Charles Theatre at the time and he was hanging around the theatre catching free flicks and meeting new friends. I barely knew him, but he struck me as a charming fellow and one day I just casually said we were looking for a roommate. Without hesitation, he said he was looking for a place to live in Baltimore and let’s give it a go. Jonathan moved into our apartment with his guitar and one suitcase containing mostly books the next week. That’s how it began.
How was I to know? We would all move a few months later into the “Copy-Cat” building and remain roommates for six years with the addition of Charlotte during the last two- three years; that Jonathan and Charlotte would be the “make-shift best man and maid of honor” in our “half-baked” wedding at the “Copy-Cat” which included a performance by Lamb’s Eat Ivy; that Jon and I would be the “make-shift best man and maid of honor” at Jonathan and Charlotte’s “half-baked” wedding which included a trip to West Virginia; that Jonathan and Charlotte would eventually become the “make-shift godparents” of our son Ian and that we would share many other events and changes together- remaining friends for so long.
How was I to know how amazed I would be by Jonathan’s creative spirit ….that I would love him and miss him so much now?
Chrissy and Jon
Jonathan Gorrie - Baltimore 1989
Monday, June 9, 2008
Photos of Jonathan & Charlotte
I found these photos of Jonathan & Charlotte on their computer. If you want to add any of them to the blog that would be sweet.
Lania D'Agostina
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