My Favorite Martin

A few times in each person's life, you encounter someone who leaves an indelible mark on you.  Obviously, everyone we meet is special, everyone is unique, and everyone brings something different into your life.

But occasionally, you meet a breath of fresh air, someone who adds a smile to your face, an energy to your conversation, and a renewed passion for life, just through his/her exuberance, vitality, and perspective.

That was Martin Brewer.

He passed away very suddenly this week, after a very brief battle with an insidious disease that has claimed far, far too many lives.

I don't even recall the exact year I met Martin Brewer, but I DO know, that it was because of Bruce Springteen.

Martin was an English teacher from New Hampshire, who came into my life via Barry Scanlon, who met him while covering high school soccer during a gig at Foster's Daily Democrat newspaper in New Hampshire.  He hailed from a city outside London, England, but made his home here, and proudly shared the news when he became an official U.S. citizen a few years back.

Barry and Martin immediately bonded, and not surprisingly, that friendship blossomed because of their mutual passion for all things Springsteen.

It would only be during the long car rides, or the pre-concert feedbags that Martin and I realized how many times in our lives we had been at the EXACT SAME CONCERTS throughout the decades - whether it be Bruce, the Clash, the Moody Blues, Fleetwood Mac, the Kinks, David Bowie, U2 - hell, name just about any concert tour, and chances are that Martin and I were in the same building at the same time.

But it was Bruce that brought us all together.

And by us, I mean the far-extending group of friends who've collectively come to be known through the years as the E Streeters. 

What does it take to be an E Streeter?  Hell, nothing.

Just be a friend to any of us, and you're one of us.  There's no dues, there's no requirement to love the music of Bruce Springsteen.  You don't have to be a runner.

You just have to be a friend.

In the pictures to follow, you'll see Mr. Brewer mugging it up with any various collection of E Streeters at any number of shows throughout the last 20 years.

Before every Hartford show, there was a tradition.  We had to stop at Angellina's for one of the most gluttonous, indulgent Italian meals to be found on the East Coast.  Sometimes I think Andrew and Mike O'Connell would go to these shows just to partake in the chow-down

But always, without fail, there was Martin.  Not always hoisting a pint, sometimes just a pint of Sprite. 

Elsewhere, Andrew posted a link to Springsteen's song Blood Brothers, which speaks to this unbreakable bond between friends that exists, without having to be spoken.

We played king of the mountain out on the end

The World come chargin' up the hill, and we were women and men

Now there's so much that time, time and memory fade away

We got our own roads to ride and chances we gotta take

We stood side by side each one fightin' for the other

We said until we died we'd always be blood brothers

Jackie said it perfectly this week when she said that one of the most energizing things about Martin was his infectious passion for life.  He LOVED teaching, he LOVED literature, and he LOVED reaching out to youth to help invigorate their passion for the written word.  Just ask Andrew and Lyndsay about the influence he brought to bear on them.

But another great characteristic that Jackie recognized was Martin's zeal.  If he wanted to go to a concert, he went.  He didn't fret about the rest of life getting in the way.  If he wanted to go somewhere on vacation, he went.  Sometimes, he went alone.  Sometimes, he went with his mom.  It didn't matter.  He just went because it was someplace he wanted to see.

Jack Minch, Tim Bradley, Susan Bradley, everyone was pulled into Martin's infectious laugh and storytelling.

One of the more hysterical outings we shared together was a Bob Seger concert at Mohegan Sun, the same day as the Kentucky Derby.  It was a thrill to experience it with Martin.  Not just because he found a way to climb into pictures with the ladies and their Derby Hats.

Not just the opportunity to hoist a pint waiting for post-time

No, it was his glee at picking the winner and claiming his jackpot prize, one that he happily flaunted for all to see.  It was a whopping $3 payout. 

We'd return to Mohegan Sun last year for what sadly prove to be the last concert experience we'd share together, another Springsteen show, this time with John along for the ride.

Where, as was wont to happen at these shows, we'd meet up with Jimmy and Candy, thereby sparking another long conversation with Jimmy and Martin over not just Springsteen, but their mutual fandom for Bob Dylan.

Rocking out to Born to Run with Martin screaming in my ear is one of those indelible Martin moments that I'll keep forever.

The truth is, there are literally dozens more pictures, dozens more stories of Martin that I could share from throughout the past two decades.

Just about all of them bring a smile to my face, and ALL of them make me realize how much I'm going to miss the guy, even if we only saw one another less than a dozen times a year.

This week, by some divine nudging, I found an email Martin sent to me years ago.  It contained an essay about Springsteen's influence on his life that Martin wrote in 2004.  The contents of the essay speak to Martin's voyage through life, 

Here's one excerpt:

I have been getting rid of so much junk in my life lately as if to say that more room needs to be created for the things that truly matter.  Big things seem small to me now, and the smaller things are what is really big - a phone call to my mother, initiating contact with a friend, appreciating the beauty of nature, saying a prayer.  Growing old does not have to mean decay.  I am bracing myself for considerably more turbulence, but although I am piloting my own plane, I have a pretty good cabin crew that includes God, family, friends, and a certain musician who speaks to me as seasons change and generations shift.

Via Dylan:

May God bless and keep you always

May your wishes all come true

May you always do for others

And let others do for you

May you build a ladder to the stars

And climb on every rung

May you stay forever young

Forever young, forever young

May you stay forever young

Anyone who knew Martin knew of his propensity to grab a kip, even in the most adverse of circumstances.  And for those of you not up on your urban slang, for Martin, grabbing a kip meant catching forty winks, stealing a catnap, or just catching up on some sleep on a moment's notice.

In our circles, some of Martin's most legendary kips include the poolside slumber he snagged in Philadelphia, October, 2004, just before the Vote for Change concert.

My personal fave was the limo ride back from Mohegan Sun after an epic Bob Seger concert.  Martin managed to not just grab a kip, he managed to grab every sheet and pillow and sprawl out in the limo while the rest of us crowded into another corner of the limo. (see pic below)

So with that, Martin, I hope you're in a place where you can grab a kip anytime you want.  Where you've got reserved front rows for all the best concerts.  Across all of time and space, where the greatest Doctors reside.  And where you've got an endless libraries of the greatest works of literature that you can read to your heart's content.

To quote a line from Hamlet, written by one of your favorite authors, that crazy old Bard of Avon himself, Shakespeare:

And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.Now cracks a noble heart.  Good night, sweet prince, 

From the churches to the hails

Tonight all is silence in the world

As we take our stand

Down in Jungleland