THERE’S A SONG ABOUT ITASCA?
Well, sort of

Whatzit Fore + One
L to R Mike Sims, Casey, Roger Holmes, Greg DeBruyne and Wayne Paney

We had several gigs at Lake Park High School and other shows and parties in the area.   I guess we can call ourselves professionals, because we got paid for many dates at other high schools and universities in northern Illinois.  We didn’t get paid much, but it was enough to pay for gas and music equipment.  We covered the hits of the times; Beatles, Stones, Chuck Berry, Jefferson Airplane, Birds, Yardbirds, Hollies. We had a blast.

Over the years I’ve remained a fan and creator of music and delved into some piano and keyboards.  I’ve written several songs along the way and enjoy playing them for family and friends.  I converted our attic into a music room and primitive recording studio where I stole away for countless hours.  It was kind of sound-proofed, but apparently not enough to prevent the thump of the bass from penetrating the floor into our bedroom below, drawing the ire of my wife on too many occasions.

In the mid-1980s, I wrote a song ITASCA-ON MY WAY HOME which I recorded up in our attic using the primitive equipment of the day.  Here’s a link to the song.

For those of you who have read our book Suffering Is the Only Honest Work, watched the short film The Letter, or just remember, a few days before Christmas in 1970—I was a junior in college home for the holidays—my father killed himself with a handgun.   Within two weeks, I returned to USC, my brother Grover to Wharton Business School, and my mother and 13 year old sister Laura packed up the house and moved to California to live with her folks, Vern and Henrietta Case.   We literally and figuratively ran out of Itasca desperately trying to put as much distance as we could from the impossible, unthinkable nightmare.

I too did everything I could over the years to forget my father and anything tied with or to him.  I cut off all ties to the friends I grew up with in Itasca and made at Lake Park.   My mother stayed in touch with some of her close friends—Jeanne West, Pat Nottke and a few others.   Not me.

When I wrote Itasca it had been about 16 years since my father’s death.  Of course, the song is all about my dad and my struggle to cope with him being gone.    I write that I’m Coming Back, I’m on my way home, and I’m all the way home.    That wasn’t true.   I had only been back to Itasca one time and that was for Kim West Eck’s wedding.  I didn’t look up any of the old gang.  I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

Finally stopped regretting what he took from me,
I thank the man,
It’s because of he I’m alive

More bullshit.   As of 1987, I had not yet forgiven my father nor had there been any sort of reconciliation with him.   I had somehow survived his suicide, married the love of my life, had a solid career as an attorney and we had two beautiful children.   In my mind I achieved all of that in spite of him, not because of him.   I certainly didn’t thank the man.

But you know the thing with lyrics and poems.   Sometimes you write about how it is—other times, how you wish it could be.  I suppose deep down I wanted it to be OK with my dad, but that seemed so far out of reach.  To do so, I would have to think about him and try and find him—who he really was and what actually happened.  Why?   I just didn’t have the stomach to go back into that rabbit hole.  It would have to take something really big for me to ever have the guts to do that.

As it turned out, the ‘something really big’  was the death of our 24 year old son, Jimmy, in 2008; struck and killed by an automobile walking home from a party.  As I explored in Suffering and the story The Letter, Jimmy’s death, somehow, someway, miraculously reconnected me and my dad.   I never thought there could ever be anything as painful as my father’s death.   So wrong.  Three months after Jimmy died, my father came through and got me as I was going down at the absolute lowest point in my life.  Maybe he heard my song of how I wanted things to be.

Today those words are absolutely true, and then some.  I love my dad, he loves me and we both know it.

I will always consider Itasca my home.  I spent 15 wonderful years at 902 Greenview and made some of the closest and best friends of my life, many of whom I am so glad I’ve reconnected with over the past few years. I am very proud to be an Itasca boy.   Itasca is a special place and

Nothing’s ever going to take her place in my heart

ITASCA © 1987
Been a way so long
I hardly knew the place
But it came right back
When I saw her face
Nothing’s ever going to take her place in my heart

Left her years ago
I had a heavy heart
Clouds of fear
Shades of doubt
Quite a few things I had to figure out on my own

[Chorus]
I’m on my way home….Itasca
Nothing ever changed the way I feel
I’m on my way home Itasca
Nothing ever changed the way I feel

Tried to run and found
I could not get away
So I just had to stop and
Fight this day to day
Told myself there just has got to be a way to survive.

Finally stopped regretting
What he took from me
Remembered all I’d done
All that I could be
Now I thank the man for
It’s because of he I’m alive

[Chorus]
I’m all the way home…Itasca
Nothing’s ever changed the way I feel
[repeat]

[Run out]
Been away so long I hardly knew the place
It came right back when I saw her face
Nothing’s ever going to take her place
In my heart…In my heart
[repeat]

Dad, Casey and Jimmy

THIS POST IS DEDICATED IN LOVING MEMORY OF MY BANDMATES MIKE SIMS AND GREG DEBRUYNE.   MAY YOU BE PLAYING SWEET MUSIC WHEREVER YOU ARE