In Memoriam

David J. Knox, 1950 - 2008

First of all, I want to thank everyone for their kind words in my comments section and in my email box. It all means very much to me, and I'm sure it means even more to my sister Cyndi. It gives me great comfort to know that so many people care about me and my family, especially at this difficult time.

The services are today, and I wish more than anything I could be there with the family. Circumstances prevent me from doing so, but in some weird way, it just serves as a reminder that life goes on, no matter what.

It might seem odd, but the only music I've listened to in the past two days is the CD from Phantom of the Opera. It's fitting, though--that was the last thing we did together socially--Cyndi, David, and I--we went to see Phantom at the Venetian. So it reminds me of him. He actually traveled to Vegas on business quite a bit, and I'm glad for all the times we got to spend together after I left Tennessee.

Everyone close to our family knows that Cyndi and David were separated, and were actually getting a divorce. But he was still a big part of our family, and I saw him and got to spend a little time with him in September when I went back to Nashville for a few days. That was the last time I saw him, and at the time he seemed perfectly healthy, upbeat, and optimistic. He knew he had cancer, but the plan was to go get an operation, do some treatments, and leave it behind. It all seemed so simple then. He made it sound like it would happen, and I believed him at the time.

But cancer doesn't conform to anyone's plans, and it was much more aggressive than we thought. And it finally caught up to him on Sunday.

It's hard to believe that he's gone, but talking to Mamasan on Sunday night, we both remembered all of the good things and the fun memories we had. When our gang thinks of David, we remember all the cookouts and parties at their house, where he'd always make his famous bar-b-que ribs that everyone loved so much. That's what we remember most--Their home was always party central, and it seemed that almost every weekend (while I was living in Nashville) the whole family would gather there for dinner, movies, cookouts, parties, whatever occasion came up.

Last year, about this time, I wrote a post about the first time I ever met David, and that kicked off several years of laughter and good times.

One of the best times we ever had was one scorching afternoon down in Key West. It was hot as hell that day, and we were just killing time until early evening when my sister Nancy's wedding was to take place. Of course we were pub crawling on Duval Street, and we ended up spending the whole afternoon at the Hog's Breath Saloon, two-fisting pina coladas and watching the endless parade of local freaks and tourists on display while we got drunker by the minute. Eventually he had to catch up to Cyndi, and we split up while I took my niece Becca to get a henna tatoo.

Once that chore was done, I was on my own, and realized that I was much too hot and much too drunk to make it back to the Truman Annex gardens under my own power, so I saw a dude with a brightly-colored bicycle-powered rickshaw/taxi thingy sitting on the side of the road, and inquired about his services. His price seemed right, at the time, but the truth is, I would've paid anything to avoid walking the mile or so back to the wedding in that heat and humidity. So I hopped in and said "Through the park, James". He proceeded to give me an unofficial tour of the island, dropping me off at the gate of the Truman Annex about ten minutes before the ceremony started.

Of course, David was the first person to see me, and he was just busting a gut laughing when he saw my drunk ass cruising up to the wedding in a rickshaw, completely festooned with rainbow flags and gay pride banners flapping proudly in the afternoon breeze.

It was quite the entrance.

He asked me something along the lines of "So, did you get a discount for joining the brotherhood?" and I told him that we shall never speak of these things again. So he only reminded me about it a couple dozen times in the ensuing years...

Another time, we were going out to dinner one Friday night, and ended up at J. Alexander's down in Franklin--Cyndi's favorite restaurant. We didn't have a reservation, and the waiting list was an hour long. So David sent me over to the bar to fetch us a couple of cocktails while we waited. The bar was packed, and it took forever to get a drink. Not wanting to do that chore twice, I told the bartender that I needed two Gentleman Jacks on the rocks (David's favorite whiskey), and I needed them to be doubles.

Well, the bartender was in the weeds, as they say in the business, so he just grabbed whatever glasses were handy and filled them with ice and booze. When I went back outside to the patio carrying two PINT glasses full of whiskey, David was cracking up and Cyndi knew she was in for a long night. Yeah, we killed the booze off just before getting our table, and the bottle of wine that came with dinner didn't help our sobriety at all. We were laughing and carrying on like a couple of rednecks all night, and I'm sure Cyndi was just thrilled to have to drive us home after dinner.

That was a fun meal.

The thing I remember most about David was his generosity. Not only with his money, but with his time. He was always willing to help anyone who needed a ride somewhere, needed a piece of furniture moved, or all of the endless little chores that came with having three sons and two step-daughters. He never let anyone else pick up a dinner check or bar tab as long as I knew him, no matter what the size of the party. And when I first moved back to Nashville, and had been out of work for three months and flat broke, he insisted on buying me a new suit and tie for my interview for that good job I finally found. And he made sure I went to "his guys" to get it altered in time so that I'd look my best. That was really cool of him to do.

But the thing that really gave him the most joy was coaching pee-wee football. Every Saturday morning in the fall he'd be off coaching the little guys, even though his sons were grown and in college and beyond. I'd go over and meet him afterwards to spend the afternoon watching SEC football with him at the house, and to listen to him talk about the kids playing, well, he had so much enthusiasm that you'd think he was talking about the Super Bowl every weekend. You could just tell that it was the hobby that he loved the most.

He will be sorely missed, and not just by everyone in our family, but by the hundreds of people that called him 'friend'. He truly was my brother, and the world was a richer and better place because of the time he spent here.

Goodbye, David. Rest in peace.