Celebrating 60 and Jeff VK

  SATURDAY WAS ONE of the best days of my life. And one of the longest.

I turned 60. My sister Charys was here from Colorado and my cousin Roland and wife Amy drove down from Michigan. We had a glorious jam session in my garage Saturday night with great musician friends and about 30 people. It reminded me of the fun Saturdays before Thanksgiving at Second String Music, when we'd have a party and toast our friend Pat Cornwell.

Early Saturday morning, former Cheeseburger bass player Jeff Vankanegan passed away. We jammed with Jeff in July for a one-off gig, and he was mentally still sharp and could still play. But physically he was struggling with a rare neurological disorder, and he ended up not playing the show. 

He went fast after that. 

Jeff at Cheeseburger show last year.

Kirk Gribbler and I went to see him in Good Samaritan Home a week ago Sunday. We played a few songs for him and Mary in his small room. Jeff was confined to a wheelchair and couldn't express his thoughts, but he clearly knew where he was and what we were doing. Mary grabbed his hand and "danced" with Jeff. He gave us big "WOO HOOS" after every song. As we left, he tried to tell us something, and I think it was to come back and do it again.

But he turned two days later. By Wednesday he was at Blessing Hospital. I saw him Friday morning, and he was resting peacefully, Mary holding his hand while sleeping in a chair next to the bed. 

At 4:20 a.m. Saturday, Jeff left us.

Saturday night in the Calftown garage, we toasted Pat Cornwell, Frank Haxel and Steve Pezzella. Then Kirk and I talked for a minute about Jeff. There were tears and laughter and even the people who didn't know Jeff were moved. Kirk had a framed photo of Jeff playing his bass at a show and proudly showed it to everybody.

Then we started playing and it was ... magic. I'm not mentioning names of everybody who participated because I'll forget somebody, but man did it cook. And I will say having Allison Hutson, Monica Scholz and Alicia McCarl all singing like the beautiful songbirds they are was ... special.

Kirk invited Jeff's son, Mike, to hang out with us. Mike didn't know a soul in the room. It didn't matter. We stopped the jam and had another toast to Jeff. "I can feel the love for my dad," Mike said.

Sunday, I took my sister Charys to Bingo at Quincy Brewing Company. We had the best time, and did absolutely nothing the rest of the day. 

At work yesterday, people asked me how it went. "Talk to me Wednesday. Maybe I'll be recovered by then," I said.

I've been talking about future plans, maybe moving back to Michigan in a few years to be closer to the big hole in the ground full of water. 

But after Charys, Roland and Amy experienced the jam session and saw all those people and felt all that love, they had a different opinion.

"You aren't leaving Quincy," they said. 

They might be right.