Letter from Patrick to Fred on 7 Nov 1982, in which he talks about the work on the house that Stephanie and he bought, and poetry, and his book on Dr. Weightnovel (never completed, still being developed when he died 35 years later), and the acquisition of a hernia in July 1982.
Here is the boat I bought for 500 dollars in Izmir. The first day out, after getting her fixed up, a storm tore up the mainsail and blew us onto a sand reef. The captain of the fishing boat who pulled usoff lost a finger in the winch. We (bandmaster Billy Bielmeir and I) spent the night in the bar of a safe harbor, while helicopters andrescue people searched after the storm cleared. The next day we tied up what was left of the mains’l and using that and the jib, we limpedback to the yacht club in Izmir. Meanwhile the newspaper AKSAM hadreported us lost at sea and supposed dead. The photo shows Mari receiving the news. Continue reading “Lost at Sea and Supposed Dead”
Darrell Jonsson from Prague sent this wonderful story and gave permission for me to share here. It encompasses almost 40 years and everything that Patrick loved: Stephanie, music, Deia, and writing. I’ve included some of Darrell’s affiliations at the end, since, as he says, “it gives some context of where I’m coming from.”
Was very sorry to hear of Patrick Meadows passing, I first met Patrick Meadows & Stephanie in 1977.
At that time they had an apartment on the main street of Deia. The door was open and some beautiful piano music was pouring into the street. A young woman was playing the piano and I asked if I could sit under the piano and listen. Unabashed by Continue reading “It Began Beneath a Piano”
2011 was a tough year for Patrick. He desperately needed to sell the house that he and Stephanie had bought and built together, endured heart surgery early in the year, then in the fall he tumbled and broke his foot while trying to build a chicken coop. Continue reading “Thanksgiving 2011”
I sat at the piano a few minutes ago, as I do too infrequently, teasing and hammering the keys into giving up some sort of acceptable sound. I drifted through a few pieces I commonly abuse like Beethoven’s 7th/2nd, Linus and Lucy, a six-note blues riff, and Erik Satie’s Gnossienne #2.
A memory suddenly came back to me. I first heard the Satie in April 1986. It was my first trip to Europe, and my first visit with Continue reading “Gnossienne #2”
Today was a very special day here in Cincinnati, Ohio. We met this afternoon at the cenotaph for Patrick and Stephanie, in the Shepard family plot. In addition to Stephanie’s immediate family (brother Tate, niece Alison and her husband Evan, nephew Carl and his wife Brittany, Stephanie’s son Tim and his family Kelly, Zoe, Nicolas, and Jillian) were Kathy, a long-time friend of Tate and of Stephanie, Lee, Patrick’s high-school and college friend, and myself.
In just a couple of hours I will finally get to meet Stephanie’s family. I look forward to it.
At this time tomorrow the final memorial will be over and we’ll all be telling stories at one of Patrick’s favorite restaurants in their area. I’m looking forward to that too.
A couple of days after that and I’ll be home again, wrestling with parking shuttles, LA traffic, and the return to routine work days and occasional friends. I think I’m looking forward to that too, but I say it with some reticence, uncertain as to why. Perhaps it stems from my desire to stop closing chapters of Patrick’s book, as if it would change things somehow.
For now I’ll refocus. Two hours, then 24, and let the rest come when it will.