RICH AHERN 1928 - 2004

My friend Rich died a few days ago, he was 76, and probably still going to punk shows. I haven't spoken to him in almost two years, since I moved from Ann Arbor to San Francisco. And I hadn't been spending as much time with him as I used to within the last few years I was in Ann Arbor. It had become difficult for me because every discussion we had was exclusively about his politics (and often, my naivete), which at first I found fascinating but later very tiring as he progressively became incapable of discussing anything else. In 1996-97 I lived in his fantastical loft above Wazoo Records in downtown Ann Arbor for a year and a half, where he played a grandfather figure (that likes to smoke pot and rock out) to me and the other roommates. The loft, he called it Arborvitae, was cockroached out, but like nothing you've ever seen. Each room, or "space," in the studio was different and unique, it was a true artist colony. It was an incredible experience. We originally became friends after slam dancing into each other at a Plumbobs show at the Blind Pig in 1995. We introduced ourselves, I had seen him before hanging out with some of the bands I admired at the time. He had noticed me too, he said, asking "who is this free spirit?" He took an immediate liking to me, a little too much and we had to eventually discuss that, but he was always very respectful. We smoked, drank cream sherry or sake in his space, which was hidden in the back of the studio, and he showed me his paintings (mostly of pretty boys), and sketches of historical landmarks, and talked to me about his adventures traveling the world. And he had been ALL over. He looked it too, his skin was severely weathered, and his vocal chords were chronically hoarse. His life project since retiring as an architect and urban planner was to design a political system that would achieve world peace. He had a business card "Synergy - a requiem for world peace," and spent everyday working on his notecards, on which he wrote ideas from articles or books he was reading. We grew quite close, I felt comfortable telling him anything; talking about insanity, about lust and love, about war and confusion. I cried to him. He sat me in front of a mirror and had me look at myself..."you're so beautiful, you know," he said. "You have power." So of course I moved in. The heating system in the studio was primitive, and therefore it was freezing in the winter, and with the lack of air circulation, it was also hotter than hell in the summer (he didn't mind though, he got to see us boys walk around without much on). But it was romantic. And we rocked. Life was art there. Every scenester in Ann Arbor knew the place, or someone who lived there at one point. And i don't just mean 90's scenester, I mean 70's, 80's, and 90's. Rich had been living there since, I think, 1968. After I moved out we still met for dinner at least once or twice a month. But he stopped asking me about how I was doing and we spent the time discussing the Trilateral Commission or oil industry conspiracies. Rich didn't want to waste time. He wanted to leave a legacy and he wanted us, his children, to do something about the world. As time went on, his political ideology became non-negotiable, and when that's all you talk about, it stops being a good time. But I understood. Still, I drifted away. I don't really know how to feel about that right now. It's hard. And I had heard his skin was deteriorating, but I never called. To be honest I was hurt that our period of intimacy was replaced by politics politics politics. But I should have called and I'll regret that.

Rich was on the front page of the Washington Post in 1945, a picture of him laying the wreath on the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at the end of World War II. He said it was that moment that defined his life. "This can never happen again," he said. He once told me the story of his attending a speech by his hero and inspiration, Frank Lloyd Wright. He said at one point Wright looked straight at him as he sat there in the audience and asked him to continue his legacy. After telling me that, he asked if I would continue his. To try and create a world where solving conflicts was done honestly and peacefully, so that there will never again be war.

I promise I will do my best. I love you, Rich.

Comments

[ts taylor]

rich ahern is/was a dear friend of mine who
probably agreed with 10% of what i believe
and yet that 10% was cement enough since
our first meeting in 1985-ish.

music, dance, art, philosophy, quality
of humanity ... he had it all and changed
me from a 5%er to 10%.

wasn't hard, we were both vets as well.

cheerrzz my friend, ts

[amy miller keane]

I lived at Arbor Vitae for 1 1/2 years, from Sept. 1989-Dec. 1990. Coincidently, I was just moving back to Michigan from Massachussetts. After living in Boston and on the Cape I was relieved to find a good and inexpensive place to live, cockroaches not withstanding. Soon I developed good friendships at Arbor Vitae and was mesmerized by the myriad of hidden spaces in the loft.

Rich was gone a lot during that time, traveling up and down the east coast, selling his drawings. Later, when I moved out he gave me one of Provincetown, signed with his crazy signature. The drawing captured the flamboyant gay culture wonderfully and humorously.

Rich was always kind and welcoming to me as well as to other tenants and travelers passing through. I remember him as generous, enthusiastic, trusting, creative, socially conscious, idealistic, and eccentric, with a booming Massachussetts accent.

I remember card catalogs full of ideas for the perfect society, as well as maps and circular nonhierarchical diagrams in his secret upstairs loft. I remember Buckminster Fuller's photo staring down from a wall in the far front area.

I remember once Rich had lost a shirt he loved. I think it was patchwork with fringe. He drew an intricate colored diagram of the shirt and posted it above the table in the eating area. He wrote "If you find this shirt anywhere, please return it," or something like that.

I am sure that there are so many more fond memories of Rich luking in my subconscious. They will probably continue to surface one by one for years to come.

[rock city]

We can't forget the puns. Oh My God THE PUNS!!!

I really miss him.

[bschorfhaar]

good thoughts to you rich...i always enjoyed
your subversion and crashing at arborvitae
on drunken post-gig occasions
(chris olsen was the singer)
thanks for coming to see
my band way back in 85
and thanks for the zen book which i think i
still have.

om mani padme hum

barry groove-biscuit

[Brent Berry]

I only lived a few months at ARborVitae in the Spring and Summer of 2001, but Rich, the place, and the gang of great folks there have made their mark on me. I haven't been back to Ann Arbor since moving to Toronto over 2 years ago, but I have often wondered about that magical place. I am very sorry to hear about Rich. Besides many of the things mentioned in the previous emails, Rich showed me about alternative ways of living your life, very different from the ticky tacky little boxes route so many of us are socialized to go down. He lived by the highest ideals...not money or materialism, but ideas, principles of social equity, environmental justice, compassion, integrity, and durable social relationships. If only a few of us could slow down and work by the same principles and motives he did, we could achieve the kind of democracy and peace Rich dreamed of. Brent Berry, Toronto, Ontario.

[Vince Prygoski]

I was at Wazoo Records yesterday and mentioned to the clerk that I am friends with the elderly guy who lives in the loft upstairs...imagine my shock and sadness to hear that Rich Ahern had passed away several months ago.

I got to know Rich through my involvement in the Green Party in Michigan. Lately I have been busy with other things and have not been making it to many meetings and so on. I guess, to paraphrase the James Taylor song, I always thought that I'd see Rich again somewhere, some time. I knew he was older and had some health problems, but he was always so full of life that it was (and is) hard to imagine that he is only with us in spirit now.

I guess the best way to keep Rich's spirit alive is to live the way he did, focusing on the positive, appreciating every moment that we are given, and doing what we can to make the world a better place.

I didn't get to spend all that much time with Rich, but he certainly made an impression on me and I will never forget him. The world needs more kind and caring people like Rich Ahern!

[JD Warner]

i was worried about Rich...he usually shows up at my doorstep every three years or so to camp out in my driveway---my wife and i hadn't seen him this year and i started casting about on the web as his phone is always being disconnected and i found this little blog.
At any rate, that's how we found out and for anyone who finds this blog, Rich was one of the special people who makes life worth living and i'm really bummed now so i have to go.

[rock city]

sorry to be the bearer of bad news, JD. rich was the best, wasn't he?

[jonathan spalter]

I came across an old diary of mine, from when I was in college at Harvard in 1982. It mentioned Rich's name. I had long forgotten the name, but remembered his soul. I wanted to find a way to look him up after all these years, and sadly came across these blogs in a google search. I knew Rich for three days. He came to Harvard to draw some of the buildings. We got talking, and he invited me to share ideas about his life, he vision, his beliefs and his values. I remember thinking that this was the original artist-- a free spirit and visionary, a gentle human soul. He introduced me over a pitcher of beer to Wilhem Riech, to ecology, to a different, searching path. He drew a picture of me into the print that he made of Harvard Yard, talking to an intellectural hero of his (who also happened to be one of my professors -- the philosopher John Rawls, who wrote "On Justice".) I have since lost the print, which he signed for me. If anybody has a copy of it -- I would be deeply grateful to get one...
Here's to you Rich. You touched my life.... and I shall remember.

Jonathan