(To see the first post, click here.)
The first time I remember meeting Karl K it was at a concert at Mississippi Nights in 1981, or thereabouts.
I was on the guest list. However, I was also underage and without an I.D. so they wouldn't let me in. (Or they were over capacity.) It was raining, and there was no one on the bus when the band went on. Karl was huddled under a little alcove in the side of the hill behind Mississippi Nights, listening to the concert as best he could.
He waved me up, introduced himself (we had seen each other around the Delmar "Wall"), and then proceeded to give me a narration about the concert. (I couldn't hear it as well as he could. The man had ears like a bat, even at 15 years of age.)
Eventually the band's tour manager, Geoff, came out and let me on the bus. Although I urged Karl to come with me, he did not, preferring to listen to whatever he could from his alcove.
After that, it seems reasonable that for the next three years I saw Karl at least once a week. (If I am not mistaken, he moved away in 83 or 84. I left in 85.) He had an encyclopedic knowledge of punk and British ska, and I recall him answering my music questions on one occasion, when we were both shopping in Vintage Vinyl.
He mostly hung out with a very tall man named Eric. Very tall Eric and not short but not really tall Karl were mostly a kind of silhouette I would encounter when roaming the Loop.
I sheepishly admit that in early July of 2007 I saw Karl and did not remember him. Now, at the time, I had just fainted in St. Louis Bread Company (anemia and iron deficiency) and broken my front tooth. I was not in the best of health, and I was also very embarrassed about my tooth. (I was headed back to L.A. at the end of July, and was waiting for my dentist -- and insurance-- there!)
I was handing out my pink "You are Amazing" flyers. It was Saturday afternoon and the Loop was hoppin'.
He stared at me for a second before exclaiming, "Rachael? Oh my god, Red Rachael?"
I nodded. He took off his sunglasses. "It's Karl, Karl -----!"
His last name is not one easily forgotten, but I did not remember him. No one had said his name to me for 25 years! I'd reunited with three other friends that I'd not seen since back in the day, but they were people I'd known well, and seen more than once in the last two decades.
I apologized profusely for my bad memory.
Karl named several encounters (not the Beat concert) and finally said "I used to hang out with Eric -----, remember tall Eric?"
Suddenly, it all flooded back to me: the Beat concert, he and Eric's familiar silhouette, and several random conversations we had had about PIL, ska, and politics. (I used to argue with EVERYONE about politics. I was a true zealot.)
Needless to say, Karl was somewhat offended that I did not remember him until he'd mentioned Eric. I apologized again. He forgave me. We exchanged numbers and quick bio's of the past 25 years.
I didn't really see him again until winter. The Knitters were playing Blueberry Hill. Karl and two other people that I had not seen in 25 years came and we all met for the concert. Unfortunately, one of the musicians turned out to be someone from L.A. and I was not able to really participate in the reunion.
(I spent most of my time talking to my musician friend at a booth, while Karl and friends were at the bar. Although, while three of them had known each other well, I was not able to share much. Not just my bad memory, but also just that I guess I have always done my own thing and been a bit of a lone wolf. )
I bumped into Karl more than once, in the Loop, and also on Delmar up near Lewis Park. The encounters were mostly inconsequential. We mostly commiserated on the St. Louis economy and job market, and the climates we'd left behind: Karl for Hawaii, and me for Los Angeles.
The last time I saw Karl it was shortly before I left to move back to Los Angeles in June of 2008. Karl was in Vintage Vinyl with an armload of records. It seemed he had run out of money in the "H"
section. He had some Herp Alpert, Hot Chocolate, and Don Ho (among other things I can't recall).
He was trying to decide what to put back. I only had a buck or two on me, but I gave it to him gladly. I knew he would have done the same for me.
Thanks to my joining Facebook, after returning to Los Angeles I came back in contact with many of the people from my Delmar "punker" days, Karl included. It was a big happy on-line reunion for all of us. (In some ways much better than a real reunion.)
Had it not been for facebook I would not have heard about Karl's cancer, and the twists and turns his struggle took. I returned to St. Louis in November, just as Karl either took a turn for the worst or was having a remission, depending on the person telling the story.
Ironically, I met one of Karl's cousins over the holidays, shopping in the boutique where I work. I had casually asked if she lived in the area. She mentioned her cousin was ill, I asked if I might know her cousin, and so forth.
I tried to call Karl a few times, leaving a messages with his father once and the answering machine. My phone service has been very bad here and I don't always get my messages. Also, my phone was shut off for non-payment when Karl died. So I don't know if he tried to call me back or not.
And I don't know if I would have been any comfort for him, anyhow. Like many people I've come back into contact with-- while "Red" Rachael was too radical, too atheist, and too political, at least she lived in the clear cut, material, empirical world. "Rae" lives in a world that few others inhabit and most do not really understand or relate to.
Would it have been helpful for Karl to speak to me before he died? To hear the stories other spirits have told me about the afterlife? Or would it have embarrassed him? Possibly disturbed him?
And I knew, anyhow, that if and when he died (I was rooting for his recovery right up until the end, even when it seemed all was lost) he would find me. Mediums are more popular with the dead than with the living.
And he did. He died on the anniversary of my grandmother's birthday. Truthfully, if he had not contacted me I might have missed the funeral. (They aren't really my cup of tea.) But for a new spirit, especially one that died during a lengthy illness, a medium's attendance at the funeral is very helpful.
The dead have no place in the world, no voice, no body. On this plane, as a ghost at a funeral (not in "the light" or crossed over), the dead cannot see the other spirits of the dead. They can only come back through memory or invocation (saying their name, making a space for them in the real world-- a candle, or bell or flowers).
The funeral is really the deceased last chance to participate in a group activity. True to form, even without a body, Karl did not ask for much or push too hard. Twice he asked me, if the opportunity arose, to pass on a message, "but not if it is a big deal."
I was very glad that I did go. Karl's people did him right, and he was happy to see all of his friends reuniting with each other! I even saw big tall Eric again, although I didn't recognize him at first.
He and his wife gave me a ride to work afterwards. It was during that drive that I felt Karl's spirit the strongest.
After Eric and his wife dropped me off I sat at work with the door locked for a few minutes. Karl was back with his mother, there were no human spirits living or dead. I was alone.
There is something very moving about taking a moment to acknowledge all that a human lifetime encompasses. It does not matter whether the life was 80 years or 40 years or 4 years. It does not matter if this is your first and only lifetime or if you have been here thousands of times.
We are all so privileged to share this time here with one another. And while this is true of everyone we encounter in this lifetime, whether friend or foe, it is doubly true of Karl.
We were lucky to know you friend. We will meet again, many years from now. Until then, farewell and safe journey!
--Lady Rae
laladyrae@gmail.com
