This year we lost President Ford. Ford gave my Father his appointment to West Point and was a family friend. We lost the Godfather of Soul. We lost Joe Barbera, half of the Hanna-Barbera animation team. Actor Peter Boyle died on my birthday. Jazz vocalist Anita O'Day, Red Buttons, Mickey Spillane, Aaron Spelling, Robert Altman, Jack Palance, Ed Bradley, Shelley Winters, Chriss Penn, Al “Grandpa” Lewis, Syd Barrett, Dennis Weaver, Darren McGavin, as wall as a certain crocodile hunter and many, many others.
Last July I lost my best friend Joe.
He was like a brother to me.
He had been sick for a while, though I was really unaware of the extent of his illness. Joe suffered from serious depression, alcoholism, and some drug abuse. He had other health problems too, a result of the mix of prescription drugs, “recreational drugs” and booze. To be honest, I had been expecting a call, telling me Joe was dead, but I thought it would be suicide. Something with pills or a razor (Joe was a cutter) but it was his liver that gave out first.
When I first met Joe, he was working at the comic shop. He was a fit, vibrant, energetic guy with a passion for comics, gaming and music. He played bass in a band, knew Kid Rock back when Kid Rock was Rob Ritchie (thought he was an ass hole) and lived life hard and fast.
Joe loved horror, especially demonically themed horror. Joe was at best Agnostic, he hated religion, he had a fascination with Satanism and black magic. He dabbled in the occult, though more as an intellectual pursuit. He didn’t believe in magic. Well, not much at any rate.
About 1995 Joe started to take a turn. He began to suffer from anxiety and depression. It was then I learned that he had been suffering from anxiety and depression most of his adult life and had even been hospitalized once or twice before I met him. The medication that had kept him stable and sane for years was failing him. I think some of it had to do with the newspaper strike. Joe delivered papers for the Detroit Free Press and he refused to cross the picket line. He started to drink more and socialize less. We still hung out, but not as often as we used to. He started to miss gaming, and would be a no show for other social gatherings.
By 2003 Joe was a virtual hermit. I only spoke to him on the phone, and even then, only infrequently. He was in and out of the hospital and when he was out, he didn’t want to deal with people.
Towards the end of 2005 it seemed Joe was getting better. He started calling more and we would speak of getting together for gaming, or just to hang. But we never did.
Joe died on July 5th. The details, as I know them, are sketchy. A few days earlier Joe fell down a flight of stairs. He broke his back and cracked some ribs, but he didn’t tell anyone. In the last years of his life, his weight had nearly doubled and his body was having trouble adjusting.
Joe’s Father knew something was wrong and took Joe to the hospital. In addition to the broken bones, the Doctors realized that Joe had suffered some internal injuries and his organs were shutting down. They induced a coma in an effort to relieve some of the stress, but he continued to worsen. Two days later his liver failed and Joe passed away.
At the funeral I got so angry. The Priest kept talking about heaven and Jesus, and how Joe was a Christian and was with God, and I knew… I really, really knew… Joe was not with God.
Joe was dead.
Just dead.
Joe hated Christianity. He hated religion. There was no way he was with God. I still, sort of believed in God when Joe died, so it was tough for me to figure out just where he was. Joe was a good guy, he cared for others more than himself, so I knew he wasn’t in Hell. Besides, I didn’t believe in Hell anyway. I wanted to believe his soul had moved on, but somehow I knew that was just wishful thinking. Joe was dead and that was that.
After his death, I tried to find my faith. I prayed for guidance. I looked hard for God. I looked for signs of His being, and I found nothing but empty rooms.
My faith had been dying for years. In the mid 80’s I was an atheist for a short time, but slipped back into belief. I was too scared not to believe. I needed God in my universe, even if He was distant and did nothing more than listen to prayers. I drifted between deism and agnosticism.
If you read my Coming Out as an Atheist this is where Julia Sweeney came in. A full year before Joe died I listened to an except of Julia Sweeney’s Letting Go of God. I remember being impressed when I heard it, but not giving it much thought. After Joe died, I thought of it often.
It still took me until November to let go of God, and until now to understand how important Joe was to the process. Joe’s death made me look at life and the universe with new eyes. It made me come to terms with things I knew, but didn’t believe. It made me realize just how precious and important life is.
Thank you, my Friend! I miss you more than you can know.
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