Remembering Jerry

Back in 1964 I was 14 years old and enjoying being a country kid. But I was also a new inductee to the movement which came to be known as the “60’s” My inner artist was being fed by this movement and I was rapidly loosing interest in country kid things. I longed for mentally mature things.
My brother and his friends were six years older than I and they graciously allowed me to tag along occasionally.
But one friend didn’t just tolerate my presence, he seemingly enjoyed it. Jerry George was attending the University of Washington and living in the now famous “U District.” He used to invite me to play pool in the Husky Student Union building and then take me out for fries and cherry cokes.
Not only was he good at baby sitting me, he was good at educating me. Majoring in philosophy he was a wealth of juicy profundities and witty observations of the latest social shenanigans. Not always liberal or conservative, but usually correct in his appraisals.
Somehow we shared the same quirky humour and would often wind up rolling on the floor hysterically. This was not such a far fall, however, because all the furniture was already on the floor (it was the 60’s after all).
Jerry went further though, he gave me a job helping he and his father, Fred, with their kindling business. We used to head out to the saw mills in the Cascade foothills and bundle up cedar shingle trimmings. Cuting them and spliting them into finer pieces with a special machine they had invented; then delivering them to the stores in the area. It was a great time.
Jerry was also involved in Seattle’s “Free University” which riled the established educational system sufficiently to bring on government harassment. Here is a quote regarding that time from a recent e-mail:
“I also retired from political activism two years ago. Six years in the trenches was enough for me. You probably remember the Free University of Seattle that Carol (Tayo) and I ran for about 18 month in ‘66-’67. At that time we were put on this watch-list maintained jointly by the Air Force and UW’s ROTC. I was considered to be a dangerous subversive, which was somewhat true.
Anyway, in 2005 some members of the local Veterans for Peace managed to get copies of a pile of info that was being passed around between various police and intelligence agencies. In a long list of profiles of “dangerous radicals” I was listed as a (nonmilitary) member of Veterans for Peace, an A.N.S.W.E.R. organizer, former president of the Free University of Seattle [not quite true], former resident of Freeway Hall [true], and draft dogger [not true, I checked the box]. That’s impressive intelligence, no? I wonder if they have an account of the night you and I drove Rich Monicelli to a quiet spot along the Canadian border where he crossed with all he could carry.”
Jerry’s interest in philosophy had given way to Buddhist studies and meditations and in 1968 Jerry and Tao were at a Buddhist Ashram in San Francisco and hosted me on a trip I made to the Bay area.
I had recently shaved my head trying to get on with NOAA and had lost my glasses (immediately upon arrival) in Golden Gate Park. So there I was, a bald, non-believing hippy with only dark glasses to wear — right smack in the middle of the 1968 Hait Ashbury district.
Several years later I hosted Jerry and Barbara Berger, a lady who was to become so dear to my heart, and obviously his, at my cabin in the hills surrounding Monroe, Washington.
Later, after they had moved to Bainbridge Island, my first wife and I lived with them while we made the transition to Kitsap County life; Jerry and I doing lots of carpentry together.
As time went on, though, I gravitated towards drafting & design and Jerry towards computers. I remember on a number of occasions finding him in his den with the parts of a running computer spread along a shelf, strung together with electrical spaghetti while he sat amid the chaos calmly coding away. He went on to become a valued independent developer in the Puget Sound area.
Our paths diverged, as many do, and we didn’t have much contact until 10 years ago. I was going through a divorce and Jerry was there for me, to just listen and comment …with sagacity.
Again, our roads led through different landscapes for the next six years. Then, recently, I decided to try contacting him again. I sent him an e-mail via Barbara’s web site( http://bhberger.com/). And presto, there was ole’ Jer ready to share his world with me yet again.
Unfortunately, our time of renewed sharing was far too short. I was deeply saddened by Barbara’s news of his passing. But I take comfort that she reported a look of suprise on his still face. That’s the Jerry I knew, a calm, still soul, yet with bemused surprise at the goings on of the world around him and those of us who walked the trail beside him.