There’ll be a memorial for Jerry Fuchs, drumming prodigy and marvelous human who died early Sunday morning in a freak accident, this Thursday evening from 7 p.m. to 11 p.m. at Enid’s in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. Enid’s was one of Jerry’s old haunts and will be an appropriate spot to say goodbye. Below the jump, a roundup of Jerry-related awesomeness from yesterday.
A piece from Access Atlanta that mentions that Jerry was named “Friendliest” at Walton High in Marietta, Ga.
Some icky but necessary nitty-gritty on his death from the Daily News.
Way too many great photos his friends posted on Facebook through the day. Here are a couple of my faves.
Somewhere in Europe with the Juan MacLean, I think. From Starrett Zenko.
From Treiops Treyfid
It’s really too bad this one’s not bigger (author unclear)
From Jayson Green
Also there was this, from the great Kylie Wright.
I’m writing this for a completely selfish reason; to make it easier to bear the loss of a friend. It’s been a while since I actually set eyes on Jerry in person, and now in a big cosmic nihilistic joke I’ve lost the opportunity to ever do so.
The irony is that a few days ago I stumbled on some youtube videos of Jerry playing, and made my husband watch them too. I was thinking I really ought to call him and see how he’s doing. Note to self: DON”T WAIT ON THESE THINGS OR IT MAY BE TOO LATE.
So all I can do now is recall things about our time together.
I met Jerry when I joined the band Vineland in 1996. He scared me he was so good, but he wasn’t an asshole about it.In fact he’s probably one of the most humble guys I’ve ever met in the rock-legend department. He always tried to find the admirable thing about the other person. He could be really funny and sarcastic but he wasn’t snarky.
I remember that tour that we did with Vineland in 96; while I think we all had some rough times,I also remember feeling on top of the world when I got to play with Jerry, like we were the heaviest, baddest rhythm section of all time. Well, Jerry was the heavy one, I was just along for the ride but what a ride it was.
I remember one evening spent at his family’s house when we were on tour. It was a sweet, suburban break from what had been the usual relentless sleeping on floors, driving and loading equipment, and we were sitting in the living room watching TV. An Adam Sandler movie came on, and Jerry was like “Yeah! I LOVE Adam Sandler!” He was so enthusiastic about what he liked.
He laughed like whatever it was was the funniest moment in history.
He liked crossword puzzles.
I feel bad that I teased him cause he liked Seal. It just seemed so incongruous to me but that was Jerry.
After Vineland kind of combusted, I formed another band with a couple of long time collaborators, and was amazed that Jerry agreed to play with us. He was also playing in at least 2 other bands at the time, but this is another thing about Jerry:he never seemed to feel the need to parcel out his talent. He loved playing, and was happy to do it.
One time we were walking to practice together; our rehearsal space was down near the Williamsburg bridge, only a few blocks from where his life was so cruelly cut short. I was kidding him on being the god of drums, and how he should get a crown. “A cape will do just fine” he countered. It made me laugh to envision him in a cape. With his obligatory waffle long underwear shirt underneath it.
I moved to Astoria,and we didn’t talk as much but he’d still remember to call or email me on my birthday, which touched me. We both had the unfortunate birthday dates right around the new year,and had commiserated on what a lousy birthday time it was. There was always something of the kid in Jerry; I can imagine him thinking how much it sucked to have a birthday right after Xmas and getting re-gifts.
I still have a record he gave me: Rain Forest by Walter Wanderly. I’m playing it right now. It’s a Boss Nova classic, which just goes to show how broad Jerry’s taste was. It’s a happy record. I’m glad to have this little bit of him to hold onto. I miss him dearly, and hope his family is holding up in these dark days. Jerry, you’ll always be in my heart, and my yardstick to measure drummers up to.