che
funeral notice
Che was a dear dear friend. He’s one of the few that really would’ve done anything for me and me him. A couple months ago I had the fortunate opportunity to drink beer with Che and his girlfriend Carrie. When he called last minute to figure out a way to meet up I knew I had to make it happen. That evening I was already out with friends who were graciously toasting my own recent return to the city. Even so, I felt strongly compelled to wrap it up to meet Che across the city. I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Che was to me, the kind of guy you just gotta see. The fact that I quit my job, did the ridiculous in signing up for art school, and as a result returned to San Francisco is in very large part due to Che’s friendship, mentorship, and to the many long conversations…always about the future, our career, flying, girls, marriage, bailing out of our careers, all the important things.
Anyway, I ditched my city friends and rolled over to the Haight to find Che and to meet his girlfriend, Carrie. It had actually been a few years since I’d seen him but true to form I was immediately greeted with a huge “whoooooaa, wasssup BRO!” We hugged. It’s not something dudes in the military normally do…in a bar…on Haight street. And the stories started flowing. “I was with this M!@#$!@#r F!@#$er one time on a training flight up tomales bay toward bodega bay. The fog was low but we just kept going lower and lower, confident in our ability to turn around if it got too bad. It was shortly after we basically hover-taxied past a boy scout troop…canoeing…that we decided to just stop, pedal-turn, and fly back out the way we came…past the boy scout troop…and out of the fog. They must’ve been like “what are those damn idiots doing flying in this fog?” Che was an amazing pilot though. He always had far more talent than I ever did, even though on several occasions he let me take the controls of his various civilian aircraft…when it was obvious to me that it was obvious to him I had no idea what I was doing. He was a patient and talented instructor.
Che was a good friend. I really can’t give tribute to him with words. It’s his smile in these pictures that tells it all. “Bro, that helicopter ain’t gonna preflight itself.” [kiss my @$$ you were on a ship for 2 years otherwise I'd be the AC, "okay"]. “Bro, there’s a singles trip to Alcatraz on Halloween, we’re going.” [oh hell no. but for you, fine]. “Bro, we’re having a party on the farm. You should come. Bring some chicks.” [where the hell is Capay?}. Some of the best memories in my life happened at those early farm parties in the Capay valley. Che and his brothers threw the absolute best parties in the middle of an organic pumpkin field YOU WILL EVER experience. The sheer gamut of attendees was a testament to Che’s ability to endear himself to every sort of person, whether farmer, military punk, or shiny city kid.
Dude, I don’t what else to say. Thanks for being my friend. You’d be absolutely amazed how everyone dropped everything and came from across the country to gather in your honor. There really is no more unlikely event than our dear friends from kodiak, DC, boston, atlantic city, indiana, san fran, san diego, sacto, basically everywhere, arriving in one zip code. They came though…to talk about you. I absolutely hate that it had to happen this way. Thanks for that gift. I’ve been bawling my eyes out for weeks now. And I’m surely the least of those who were dear to you. You’re sorely missed my friend. Because we all know you expect nothing less than for us to drink way too many beers–together–that’s what we’re going to do today. We’ll do it remembering the guy who made each of us feel like we were your best friend.
remembering che…
slideshows with music
same photos, web gallery
full size jpegs (huge zip files)