I was only ten years old when my older brother was killed. It was the evening of August 9th 1973. I had been in the bath tub for quite a while, and my fingers and toes were beginning to wrinkle when I heard what sounded like sobbing coming from the other side of the door. "I'd better get out and see what's going on," I thought to myself. As I toweled off, and put on my pajamas, I considered that maybe one of our cats had been run over by a car. It wouldn't be the first time something like that had happened. Maybe it was grandma. She was getting older, and could go at any time. It sounded serious. I opened the bathroom door, and exited in a plume of steam that quickly dissipated. I peered into my sister's bedroom located opposite the bathroom, and found that it displayed the saddest faces I had ever beheld. My mother, father and sister were sitting on the edge of the bed, holding each other. I didn't say anything. "I have some really bad news," my father said tenderly, speaking as though the wind had been knocked from him. He took a brief moment to find a way to deliver the information to me with the least amount of difficulty, and with a slight quiver in his lip, he announced, "Lynn has been killed in a car accident." NO! Not my brother. My hero, favorite person in the whole world, the one I look to for advice, my role model, and very best friend...* He's only 21, how can this be true? Time stopped at that moment. Suddenly, everything I knew was somehow different. We all held each other and sobbed with the light turned off. We were all so very sad. I went to bed with a heavy heart, and a head full of confusion. "Why?" I kept wondering.
++
When mom said good bye, she had no idea it would be her last time. Lynn got home from classes early, and met up with some friends at Smith's Dairy Bar who invited him to go fishing with them. They planned to be back early because Steve had a date later that evening. Steve drove, while Lynn rode shotgun, and Wayne sat alone in the back seat. No one wore seat belts in those days, and it was estimated that Steve was driving 80 mph when he lost control, and his little rotary engine Mazda left the road. It rolled a few times before coming to a stop. Lynn and Steve were both thrown from the vehicle as it rolled. Steve was crushed by the car and died instantly. Lynn wasn't as lucky. Laying on the shoulder of the road suffocating, with a broken neck, he struggled to breathe. A doctor happened on the scene immediately after the accident, and began to do what he could to save my brother's fragile life. He used a pocketknife to administer a makeshift tracheotomy, but it only prolonged his suffering, and after about forty minutes or so, Lynn left his terrestrial abode. Wayne wasn't physically harmed at all in the accident, but suffered the agony of seeing two of his good friends die.
++
Sometime after sundown, dad was in the front yard when a Tooele County Sheriff vehicle pulled up in front of the house and stopped. Sheriff Pitt and his deputy got out of the vehicle and approached bearing the heavy burdon of delivering a message that no father should ever have to hear or bear. The sheriff's heads must have hung low, as he carefully selected the appropriate words to convey to this man that his son was dead. There's no easy way to say it, no gentle way to tell a man that the first born of his own flesh and blood is no more. As the officers delivered the painful details, all dad could think about was, how in the world was he going to tell his sweet wife that her son was dead? He said it was the most difficult thing he has ever had to do. May God spare me that painful agony.++
When mom said good bye, she had no idea it would be her last time. Lynn got home from classes early, and met up with some friends at Smith's Dairy Bar who invited him to go fishing with them. They planned to be back early because Steve had a date later that evening. Steve drove, while Lynn rode shotgun, and Wayne sat alone in the back seat. No one wore seat belts in those days, and it was estimated that Steve was driving 80 mph when he lost control, and his little rotary engine Mazda left the road. It rolled a few times before coming to a stop. Lynn and Steve were both thrown from the vehicle as it rolled. Steve was crushed by the car and died instantly. Lynn wasn't as lucky. Laying on the shoulder of the road suffocating, with a broken neck, he struggled to breathe. A doctor happened on the scene immediately after the accident, and began to do what he could to save my brother's fragile life. He used a pocketknife to administer a makeshift tracheotomy, but it only prolonged his suffering, and after about forty minutes or so, Lynn left his terrestrial abode. Wayne wasn't physically harmed at all in the accident, but suffered the agony of seeing two of his good friends die.
++
++
The following morning, I woke up to the muffled sound of my father's voice. He was out in the front yard talking across the fence to our neighbor Clark... telling him the bad news. I would have given anything for it all to have been a bad dream, but no such luck. I stayed in bed for a few more minutes, listening to their conversation, feeling the weight of the heavy moment, the room bathed in white mourning light. I got up, went into the kitchen and poured myself a bowl of Count Chocula Cereal. I ate it, but didn't really taste it.
++
A haze of thick numbness permeated the next few days. Hoards of family, friends, neighbors, and associates came to the house to bring food and offer condolences. Everyone was shocked, and demonstrated genuine love for our mourning family. A package soon arrived from the Camas County Sheriff's Office. It contained the Timex watch Lynn had been wearing at the time of the accident. The crystal was cracked, and the hands had stopped at 3:25... the moment of the accident. A tangible eerie reminder of the finality of the situation.
++
One hot afternoon, soon after that accident, we went to Tate Mortuary** to select the coffin my brother's body would be put to rest in. The sun was high in the sky... another scorching August day, but it was cool in the basement of the mortuary, where they stored the caskets. There were dozens of different styles, colors and price ranges to choose from. There were sloped ramps to facilitate easy movement of the heavy time capsules. I thought it would be a fun place to roller skate, and could imagine myself wisping around the room... the first thing that had seemed fun to me since the accident. The casket we selected was a beautiful bronze color, and within a day or so, we went back to the mortuary to view my brother's body in it, and make final approvals. It had been a few days since I had seen him, and now there he was laying lifeless in his coffin. He looked peaceful and natural... like I wanted him to. My mom insisted that they not cut his long hair, or shave his moustache. She wanted him to look natural, like he did when he was alive. I reached out to touch his cold hands, and felt his long soft hair. It was good to see him again. I knew it would be difficult to say good by... for good. I dreaded that.
++
There was a public viewing at the mortuary the evening before the funeral, and thousands of friends showed up to support us, and say good by to Lynn. We were all so thankful for the big turnout, and knew it was out of respect for our family, and the good person Lynn was.
++
The funeral was surrealistic. The room was filled, and the walk to the front bench was long and arduous. Everyone was looking at us, my heart was heavy knowing what was about to happen. I was no stranger to death... I had been to funerals before. Our next door neighbor, Clark did most of the speaking from the pulpit. I had always respected him, and was glad that he was the person with the difficult task to tribute my brother. Our good family friend, Rod Stewart, played guitar, and sang the David Gates song, Everything I Own. A profound painful lyrical truth for me.
++
After the funeral, we all met at the cemetery, to put Lynn's body in the ground. Ironically, he had surveyed*** his own burial plot some time earlier, and may have even pounded the stakes into the ground that marked his final resting place. He loved the out of doors, and it seemed as though he was always in the mountains, or desert when he wasn't in school or working. He loved caves, was an avid spelunker, and had even asked that his body be thrown down an old mine shaft should he ever die. My mom wasn't about to honor that request though. For an epitaph, my cousin Jan suggested, "Now he walks in quiet solitude... the forests and the streams," lyrics from John Denver's Rocky Mountain High. Lynn was no fan of John Denver, but he was a fan of the Colorado Rockies, and spent a great deal of time in Ouray and Telluride, therefore these words seemed perfect for his headstone, and I think of him whenever I hear that song.
++
A few months earlier, my cousin Doug had had a serious automobile accident, and had been thrown through the windshield of his Corvette. No one knew if he would pull through. He had incurred serious head injuries and had a metal plate surgically installed to provide support where his skull had been crushed. While in critical condition in the hospital, he woke up one day and told his mother that he had spent the day with some family members who had previously passed away. He even talked with his brother Kenny, who had been killed by a big delivery truck at the age of eighteen months, and was now a mature man. He also chatted with his father who had been dead for many years. His father's name was Lynn... my brother was named after him. After Doug's interview with his deceased father, he seemed especially interested in my brother's well-being, and inquired about his whereabouts and activities. His mother informed him that Lynn was attending the University of Utah, and other details. Doug spoke up boldly, "Tell him to be careful."++
A haze of thick numbness permeated the next few days. Hoards of family, friends, neighbors, and associates came to the house to bring food and offer condolences. Everyone was shocked, and demonstrated genuine love for our mourning family. A package soon arrived from the Camas County Sheriff's Office. It contained the Timex watch Lynn had been wearing at the time of the accident. The crystal was cracked, and the hands had stopped at 3:25... the moment of the accident. A tangible eerie reminder of the finality of the situation.
++
One hot afternoon, soon after that accident, we went to Tate Mortuary** to select the coffin my brother's body would be put to rest in. The sun was high in the sky... another scorching August day, but it was cool in the basement of the mortuary, where they stored the caskets. There were dozens of different styles, colors and price ranges to choose from. There were sloped ramps to facilitate easy movement of the heavy time capsules. I thought it would be a fun place to roller skate, and could imagine myself wisping around the room... the first thing that had seemed fun to me since the accident. The casket we selected was a beautiful bronze color, and within a day or so, we went back to the mortuary to view my brother's body in it, and make final approvals. It had been a few days since I had seen him, and now there he was laying lifeless in his coffin. He looked peaceful and natural... like I wanted him to. My mom insisted that they not cut his long hair, or shave his moustache. She wanted him to look natural, like he did when he was alive. I reached out to touch his cold hands, and felt his long soft hair. It was good to see him again. I knew it would be difficult to say good by... for good. I dreaded that.
++
There was a public viewing at the mortuary the evening before the funeral, and thousands of friends showed up to support us, and say good by to Lynn. We were all so thankful for the big turnout, and knew it was out of respect for our family, and the good person Lynn was.
++
The funeral was surrealistic. The room was filled, and the walk to the front bench was long and arduous. Everyone was looking at us, my heart was heavy knowing what was about to happen. I was no stranger to death... I had been to funerals before. Our next door neighbor, Clark did most of the speaking from the pulpit. I had always respected him, and was glad that he was the person with the difficult task to tribute my brother. Our good family friend, Rod Stewart, played guitar, and sang the David Gates song, Everything I Own. A profound painful lyrical truth for me.
++
After the funeral, we all met at the cemetery, to put Lynn's body in the ground. Ironically, he had surveyed*** his own burial plot some time earlier, and may have even pounded the stakes into the ground that marked his final resting place. He loved the out of doors, and it seemed as though he was always in the mountains, or desert when he wasn't in school or working. He loved caves, was an avid spelunker, and had even asked that his body be thrown down an old mine shaft should he ever die. My mom wasn't about to honor that request though. For an epitaph, my cousin Jan suggested, "Now he walks in quiet solitude... the forests and the streams," lyrics from John Denver's Rocky Mountain High. Lynn was no fan of John Denver, but he was a fan of the Colorado Rockies, and spent a great deal of time in Ouray and Telluride, therefore these words seemed perfect for his headstone, and I think of him whenever I hear that song.
++
++
It was difficult to accept that Lynn was really gone. Life went on, but all of us were very different people. Dad went gray almost overnight, and mom has had health problems ever since. Things would happen that I wanted to tell Lynn about, then I would realize that I wouldn't be seeing him... feeling disappointed every time it happened. I had so much to tell him, and still so much to learn from him. I miss him so much.
*Mom always said that nobody loved me more than Lynn. I reciprocated with admiration. He even chose my name for me.
**Tate Mortuary had a white illuminated sign in front of the building with black cursive lettering. Occasionally I would take a 2" strip of black electrical tape, and turn the T into an F. Fate Mortuary.
***A project my dad had put him on to get a little surveying experience.
"A shard of glass... and your heart just grows around it" Laurie Anderson
Everything I Own
By David Gates
You sheltered me from harm.
You kept me warm.
You kept me warm.
You gave my life to me.
You set me free.
You set me free.
The finest years I ever knew.
Were all the ones I spent with you.
I would give anything I own.
Give up my life and my heart, my home.
I would give everything I own
Just to have you back again.
You taught me how to love.
And what it’s of, What it’s of.
You never said too much but still you showed the way.
And so I knew from watching you.
Nobody else can ever know.
The part of me that can’t let go.
I would give anything I own.Give up my life and my heart, my home.
I would give everything I own Just to have you back again.
Just to touch you once again.
Is there someone you know?
You’re loving them so
But taking them all for granted?
You may lose them one day.
Someone takes them away
And they’ll never hear the words you have to say.
I would give anything I own.
Give up my life and my heart, my home.
I would give everything I own just to have you back again.
Just to hold you once again.
*Mom always said that nobody loved me more than Lynn. I reciprocated with admiration. He even chose my name for me.
**Tate Mortuary had a white illuminated sign in front of the building with black cursive lettering. Occasionally I would take a 2" strip of black electrical tape, and turn the T into an F. Fate Mortuary.
***A project my dad had put him on to get a little surveying experience.
"A shard of glass... and your heart just grows around it" Laurie Anderson
Everything I Own
By David Gates
You sheltered me from harm.
You kept me warm.
You kept me warm.
You gave my life to me.
You set me free.
You set me free.
The finest years I ever knew.
Were all the ones I spent with you.
I would give anything I own.
Give up my life and my heart, my home.
I would give everything I own
Just to have you back again.
You taught me how to love.
And what it’s of, What it’s of.
You never said too much but still you showed the way.
And so I knew from watching you.
Nobody else can ever know.
The part of me that can’t let go.
I would give anything I own.Give up my life and my heart, my home.
I would give everything I own Just to have you back again.
Just to touch you once again.
Is there someone you know?
You’re loving them so
But taking them all for granted?
You may lose them one day.
Someone takes them away
And they’ll never hear the words you have to say.
I would give anything I own.
Give up my life and my heart, my home.
I would give everything I own just to have you back again.
Just to hold you once again.
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