still you live on

Happy Birthday Mark! ( belated )

Still missing you!

From Jennifer (aka Jenny) Loudermilk Snyder

Hello,
I lost contact with Mark many many years ago. As a matter of fact, I haven't seen him since June 1983, when we went on to junior high school. He was my first real crush and was always a sweet sweet guy {even at the ripe old age of 12} I am so pleased to know that he went on to live his dream of being a professional drummer. I am also deeply saddened to hear of his passing. Although I never moved far from our old hometown, life has a way of getting away. Please accept my deepest condolences at his loss, (also please extend them to his family) I know that if he continued to be the fine human being he was becoming at such a young age, that the world is definately losing out.

I remember fondly the first band he started at Saybrook School.... "WARLORDS" They even had a concert, it was Mark, Larry Wall and Alan Gustafson. They were quite "HOT" If we'd only known then, what heights he would reach. He was truly gifted.

Again, I apologize for my ignorance in not knowing more of his life, but even so, I was shocked and saddened to hear of his passing.

With deepest sympathy


Jennifer (aka Jenny) Loudermilk Snyder

PS This is a wonderful thing that you have done for everyone.

Message and Poems from Claudia

Claudia sent me this message last week just after Mark's birthday and she wanted me to post this for today - one year after Mark passed on.

---

Hello, Aaron: I was drawn to the blogspot last evening, and thrilled with the "Happy Birthday" entry. How ironic that the first year
comes to a conclusion with Mark's birthday on Palm Sunday, and the date marking his death on Easter. It is ponderous to
to consider that we are remembering the last week of Mark's life during the same span of time honoring the struggle of the First Son.

Bruce and I plan to mark next Sunday with a hike to the national forest to lay a heartstone at the cowboy's prayer tree. It is a
sequestered spot with a beautiful view of the area. We will follow that with a balloon release from our deck. Kristen will release
a balloon in Denver simulatneously, we hope. Perhaps some of you would like to do the same, lifting up his memory in that way.

I would like to post two of the poems from my collection "Writing Towards Equilibrium: A Mother's Journey" to acknowledge the healing process. Again, thanks to all for remembering Mark's birthday.

---

[These poems were inspired by the many days that Claudia spent in her workroom sorting and organizing artifacts so that Brody might know his uncle. A process she dreaded at first was actually very beneficial.]



Discovery

Opening the box

marked “memorabilia”
I hesitated,
knowing that your childhood
would be revealed before me.
On top,
and covering all
as it had been
for the first wondrous years of your life,
was “blanky”
tucked gently down at the corners
concealing the pearlized satin binding
frayed from the rubbing of your tiny fingers
from the sucking of your perfect lips.
I lifted it gently
found a corner
and held it to my cheek
expecting
a connection, perhaps,
a warmth,
comfort.
Yet even as I opened and held
the blanket, full length,
against my heart,
it had no warmth
no precious baby smell.
Of course.
It was never my comforter.

Laying it aside
I lifted and admired
piece after piece
of the completed puzzle
you became.



Still Life

Painful at first
this task of
sorting
and
ordering
photographs
that captured moments
of a too-short life.
Yet as each multi-colored
square and rectangle
took its place
on pages of the albums


friends
family
mentors

the river

drumsets
keyboards
recording equipment

the river

cars
boats
campers
cars
boats
tents

the river

you lived
once again
to show me
to teach me
to help me understand
and,
most important of all,
to make me laugh.


~ Mom

Happy Birthday, Mark

Wish you were here.

the fall, the soul cages and the water

This time of year makes me think of Mark.

One fall weekend in college, we went to his parents' house in Ashtabula for a visit. We spent some time watching the waters of Lake Erie crash and spill over the breakwall at some spot he used to visit when he lived there, listening to Sting's "The Soul Cages" cd. We joked around plenty that weekend, but talked about some deep stuff, too. It was a very memorable trip for me, for some reason. I suppose it was talking with Mark about big stuff that affected me, and still does today. I never made it to his parents' cabin on the Goulais - always something that seemed to get in the way of making the trip. But that time with him in Ashtabula made me see how connected he was to the water and to the outdoors.

Sounds kind of silly to read that - "connected to the water." But it doesn't seem silly in my memory. Mark always seemed to be hiding and guarding a lot more in his soul than he communicated. Just like the water hides more than is visible from the surface. And every now & then, you get a glimpse of the complexities that lie beneath the icy grey waves.

I miss Mark. But the crisp, cold air in October helps me remember what lay beneath the surface near that breakwall along Lake Erie. If you think of it this fall, listen to that cd of Sting's. Maybe it will make you think of Mark, too.

Mark's Gifting Day

Mark's family recently said good-bye to him as they spread his ashes in the Goulais River. Claudia was thoughtful and considerate enough to share that day with us by providing photos and the poem she wrote for the occasion..


==================================
Body and Soul

Tumbling, playful waters
that were central to his life,
take our son, our brother
on a final journey.
Wrap him in the clarity he sought,
enfold him in the joyous promise
of union with deeper water
expanding,
purposeful,
that will touch shores
distant beyond all imagining,
embrace them,
then move on,
marking the rhythm
of life
the ebb and flow
and of love
the presence and absence
of loved ones’
eternal traces.
Claudia Greenwood
8/26/06

===============================

Sunrise on Gifting Day

The rapids south of Whitman dam on the Goulais River.

The gifting pool, start of the journey.

As the crow flies, the Goulais Bay is about 30 miles from here. The river twists and turns into a much longer journey.

Leaving the rapids, entering the calm, peaceful water of the Goulais.

Letting go...

Footprint of time.

View of Goulais Bay, Isle Parisienne, and Lake Superior from the top of Bellevue Mountain, downriver from Whitman Dam.




Best friends. Mom, Dad, and Glynn



Family



Next generation river runner, Brody.

Quiet at the end of the day. Bruce with Chi and Isabel. [Note the tiny jeans drying on the line. Brody just had to sit in the river at the rapids.]

Mark Greenwood Memorial Concert DVD is now available

I've put together a DVD of the memorial concert. If anyone is interested in a copy, please email me at davidbushey@yahoo.com. The charge is $10 (to cover the cost of materials). Thanks again to everyone who made the concert great.

More Photos, Thanks & Thoughts

Mark Greenwood was one of the most sensitive and caring musicians I've ever had the honor of sharing music with. So many others have said such beautiful things about him here and at the memorial, I can only add that from the first time I heard his playing, I thought he was unique. He played with such energy! Later when I got to know him better as a musician I KNEW he was special. He was a brilliant producer, a great song writer ( he would often complete my thoughts! ), a great drummer ( one of only a handful of drummers that could play ANY style ) with a wonderful and slightly twisted musical sense of humor, a great engineer and of course, you all know - a great person. I had so many wonderful times in his company!

I wish a huge thanks to everyone that gave their time and efforts to the memorial and thanks to all that attended. It really was beautiful.

I have a small web gallery of scanned photos ( some from Tim Perdue, Rae Gandolf and Alicia )

Mark Greenwood Photo Gallery

If you have photos that you would like to add, feel free to contact me.

The Pocket

In the short time I got to be in a band with Mark (HEFFY with Rob Maccabe and Ben Backert) he really taught me a lot about playing in the pocket and taking it easy.

I have to admit that Mark was kind of an intimidating dude, when I very first met him. I went to like, 4 rehearsals before he ever said anything to me at all... and were the rhythm section - no talking. Dang!

But then one day, we were sitting outside the rehearsal space and he just started talking to me about music... asking me questions about what I liked etc, and gave me a couple of really nice compliments on my playing and a few pointers too. I never forgot them. And after a couple of more months or so of playing with Mark, I feel like something changed for me as a musician. My approach changed, for the better, thanks to him. He gave me a great book once called "Jazz Anecdotes", that I have to this day, and still browse thru often. I think about him when I read it.

Mark was a super-cool, creative and sensitive guy. I really admired him a lot, and will miss that dry sense of humor, crooked smile and unique personality.

-Jay Donovan

More Mark Movie Magic

Mark was a fan of Steve Martin, and often imitated him with lines from his movies. I thought it would be fun to replace Steve Martin with Mark in some of these films and see how he'd measure up. But just like in real life, the end result is even better with some help from his friends...

More from the Cabin

These are from the summer after Mark's (and my) freshman year of college when he gathered up some newer friends and older friends for a Canada trip. It's me, Mark, and Carl. Did I see Carl at the memorial? I thought maybe I did but I wasn't sure and got distracted before I could find out.




And this is me and Mark messing around with his keyboard and portable multi-track recorder. For some reason we were trying to get a good recording of us whistling the theme to The Andy Grifith Show with the two part harmony.



Carl and his girlfriend Sharon road up with Mark, me and my now wife Teresa in the Greenwood's blue van. Later, Beth Winters (now Stewart) and her boyfriend at the time showed up as did Mark King.

There was a lot of ski footage taken by me with Mark's camera as one of the Marks drove the boat. Some great shots of Mark (and Mark King) slolam skiing in front of the Goulais pine backdrop. Sadly, it looks like no such videos exist anymore. I also remember some footage of me doing one severe nose dive after another on a knee board trying to jump the wake. Never did get it. Mark made that look very easy. It was not.

The Three Amigos

Ole'!

The Crown Dynasty

Soon after graduation from Capital, Mark and I played in a surprisingly great production of Ain't Misbehavin in North Carolina. I was contacted first and was asked to bring a long a trombone player so Brian Banyon went down with me. The guy who was directing the show also provided the singer/dancers for some cruise ships. He was happy with Brian and I and the show's drummer was not cutting it. So, I called Mark and he drove all the way down with his drums from Ohio in his Blazer.

The show went well and the guy was pleased that I had brought along such great musicians so they trusted me to put together a band for a cruise ship. The Filipino band that played regularly needed a vacation. Anyway, here are some photos and memories from the ship.

The first picture is one of us in our tiny space where we played for dance sets and twice every night for the singer/dancer performances. We also played for any special guest performers and official party games the cruise director scheduled. You can just see Mark's head back at the drum set.


It was during this time that Mark started to experience some serious health problems. There were at least a couple weeks where he would barely get out of bed and times when he couldn't play. The ship physician could find nothing wrong. Later I think there was some speculation by other doctors that he had a parasite from the trip. I now wonder if this was the case and how that may have eventually triggered other problems with his condition.

Here's Mark standing in the doorway to our very, very tiny cabin.


The next two are from one of the times when we stopped in Costa Rica. Randy Wanless, the guy with the injured leg, spoke a decent amount of Spanish and worked out a deal with a cab river to take us around for the day. Here we stopped for a photo. The second shot is when we took a dip in a swimming hole. Unfortunately Mark's head is blocked by a leaf but you can see him giving a peace sign.





Next is most of the band on the upper deck where we often lounged around in the sun when we weren't performing or rehearsing. This was a great shot was taken by Randy.



Finally, here we are at a beach in Acapulco where we were pressured by some locals to buy hammocks. You can see me in the silly hat and Mark looking at the rainbow colored one that they're spreading out. That's the one he bought.

Across from that beach location was a fresh water lake where we could jet-ski and water-ski - although I don't think anyone water-skied for some reason. Probably too expensive. We also had some great authentic Mexican food over there.

Memorial Concert Follow-Up

My head is still reeling too much from yesterday's concert to write about it yet. It seems like a dream - both because the event came together so much better than I ever imagined, and because I still can't believe Mark is gone - but there are two items of business that I wanted to take care of right away.

First, is to thank again everyone who came together to make this happen, especially Jenn Kern and her parents. As I was driving back from Deer Creek Sunday morning, heading straight for the Columbus Music Hall with a mini-van filled to the brim with kids & dirty laundry, I thought of a million things that likely needed to be done before the concert. When I got to the Music Hall, Jenn - who cancelled her students' piano recital and drove up from NC for this event - and her parents already had the chairs set up, the coffee made, and were pulling together a shopping list for a last-minute run to the store. I hadn't seen Jenn in 13 years, and yet the moment I walked in the door, I could tell she had not only read my mind, but thought of a million other things that she had already taken care of. Dana Maccabee also took on a lion's share of the set-up and clean-up (the whole while looking absolutely fabulous, I must say!)

Second, someone asked that I post the lyrics to the song I wrote. Using the magic of the Internet, below are the lyrics, with hyperlinks to some other information that may help illustrate the process of how this piece of music came to be:

Closer to Believing

When some people walk along beside you, so sure of their way, you're touched by their presence.

And others may cross paths with yours as you wander through the mire, compelled by uncertainty and desire.

I can't define the imprint you left behind, I can only think about the meaning that you're life had in mine

And I'm a little bit closer to you
And you're a little bit closer to me
And we're a little bit closer to believing in love.

Eyes I dare not meet in dreams, in death's dream kingdom these do not appear.
There, the eyes are sunlight on a broken column.
There, is a tree singing, and voices are in the wind's singing, more distant and more solemn than a fading star.

Between the idea and the reality
Between the motion and the act
Falls the shadow

Between the conception and creation
Between the emotion and the response
Falls the shadow

Between the desire and the spasm
Between the potency and the existence
Between the essence and the descent
Falls the shadow

For thine is
For life is
For thine is the kingdom

For thine is
For life is
For time is a river, and life is very long.

The Tribute Concert

I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who worked so hard to put together the concert in memory of Mark yesterday. The DVD presentations were terrific, the music hopping (I didn't get it either, Claudia, heehee), and the company wonderful. Some fellow Cap grads I hadn't seen since I graduated in 1990, and although we've all gotten older and grown (some of us in more ways than one, wink), it sure did my heart good to reconnect, and I could have imagined Mark walking through the door to join in.

But I have to say, how many pictures of Mark made me think of him as someone who lived life to the fullest. I bet he packed more living into 35 years than I will have into however many I make it to... So many pics gave us a chuckle. Wow, the Thailand pics in the waterfall just look amazing to me...

Finally - Tiffany - your song was what Got Me. It was beautiful way to remember Mark and, for me, the highlight of the afternoon.

(Then there was watching my daughter and your son play together.) :)

My best to all,
Tina

More from Thailand

Here are some more pictures from Thailand. For those who don't know, we were playing with Honk, Wail & Moan in a three week jazz festival in honor of the king of Thailand who apparently loves jazz. Rudely, however, he never showed up. I know there must be a lot more pictures out there from this trip so I look forward to seeing some from some other guys. Thanks to Tim for sharing so far!

The first photos are from when Mark, Dick, John, and I rented some mopeds on the island of Koh Samui. You can see them standing in the some shallow water where we stopped to "cool off". That turned out to be a joke since the water was like very warm bath water. I have never been as hot as I was (temperature hot) on that island. Even when we were riding around on the mopeds creating a good, steady breeze it felt like my forearms were on fire from the sun beating down on them. Another time I was walking down the main road and found my self walking faster in between the tiny amounts of shade from various little storefronts like you might otherwise do to get relief from a downpour.



Another very hot experience was in Phuket (the second stop on our tour) where Mark and I were determined to take advantage of our time and experience all that we could in spite of the brutal heat (this was the off season when most tourists would stay away). We took a hike up some little mountain that we'd read about in a pamphlet or something. Man, by the time we got to the top, I was feeling signs of heat exhaustion and the water we carried with us tasted like somebody warmed it up on the stove. What saved us was the cold waterfall at the top that we let pour over us to cool off. Before that, I'm convinced that at least my body temperature was at a dangerous level.



I'm the photographer in my family so there aren't many pictures of me cause I'm always behind the camera. Still, I like to think that I'm actually in every shot sharing my perspective with the viewer. So, here's a picture of me that I like because Mark took it and I can imagine that moment through his eyes. I was holding one of the sea slug things that we'd seen in the water all over the place and he dared me to pick it up.

Finaly, here are some various other pics - one from a boatride we took as a band. Maybe someone else can tell that story.

Memorial Concert - Reminder

The Concert will go forward this Sunday at 3:00 p.m., rain or shine. The music portion will be indoors, but pray for decent weather anyway so we can visit after the concert in the courtyard out back. The Columbus Music Hall is located at the corner of Parsons and Oak. (click here for a map) Free parking is available in the lot adjacent to the Music Hall and along Oak Street.

See you Sunday.

Remembering Mark Greenwood 1971 - 2006

Remembering Mark Greenwood
1971 - 2006

About 2 months ago, I opened a fortuned cookie and read “You love Chinese Food.” I laughed and thought of Mark and put it in my bag planning to mail it to him, thinking that too many months (was it actually 2 years?!) had gone by. Mark once told me about a slightly uncomfortable first date he had at a Chinese restaurant…after the meal he opened his fortune cookie and read “you love Chinese food” and it struck him so funny that he was practically balled up on the floor of the restaurant laughing…the girl thought he was a bit strange for laughing so hard at a fortune cookie and I don’t think they dated again! He liked to tell that story.

I met Mark, along with some other great musicians/ soon to be friends, in late ’94. After he moved out west, I realize that I only kept track of him through his mom. (I’d take Bruce and Claudia for parents any day! And Mark was so openly proud to be their son and Kristen’s brother) ....It led to a first date at the "round bar" and then over the years to come, we were many things to each other- there was a lot of love, and friendship was always at the heart of it. I knew Mark before he started getting ill, but soon after we started to become close, the mystery began to develop. Somewhere in that time, we found Isabel, the wonderful German Shepard who brought Mark so much love. I was granted Godmother status and it never occurred to me that such a thing could possibly have any real meaning.
Mark moved out of one house, hoping there was some sort of underlying allergy at the root of his health problems, and into a “new” house down the street. That dilapidated, crooked house took months to become a home – largely due to Bruce and Claudia’s laboring! The discovery of a well in one of the rooms downstairs, the wicked slant of the house…all these things became a good laugh ---in retrospect, that is! The painting, the stripping, the mending…Mark took pride in seeing that house turn around, and great times were had there by many.

I was fortunate enough to be part of the Canada crew for 3 years. As many of you know, there’s no doubt that Mark loved the cabin in Canada like no other place- and that when he was there, there was no place he’d rather be. He gave an everlasting gift to many of us by sharing it. For some reason, Jeff seems to think it’s a funny story about how pissed Mark got when I almost ran him over with the boat motor! Personally, I’d rather remember other things! (and heck, there were several feet to spare!) I prefer to think about how Mark was delighted to sit by the fire, always wanted everyone to do stuff together as a group, and joked about how since he started inviting girls to the cabin they'd stopped catching fish. (He quit complaining as soon as Alicia made dinner!) Aaron, you should know that “Billlll” wasn’t just circa ’94- I think that the cabin brought out a lot of old catch phrases! About the camp supper thing though, I think that after Mark came back from Thailand that was replaced by Pad Thai. That’s really the only thing I remember him cooking! He loved to make it for people almost as much as he loved to eat it. I remember when he came back from a doctor/nutritionist one day he was so happy because he’d told her about his Pad Thai cravings and she’s said it was probably because there was so much stuff in it that’s good for you. Yup, then he started eating even more pad thai!

For now I'll have to organize my pics for Sunday, but will try to add some (like one of Mark cooking pad thai!) as soon as I have a place from which to upload them!

Meanwhile, Here’s a song Mark wrote and recorded in 1999. I have no doubt it was just as much for him as it was for me. From a musical layman's point of view, I find it magnificent and a little sad. It came to me that I should share it because even though Mark hid a lot of things as he lost hope of recovering, I know that deep down he really wanted to be open and share with people. And, I guess that’s what this blog is about. Thanks for the url, Aaron!
http://www.aaronmolnar.com/Playlists/MarkSong.m3u

Rae

Remembering Mark Greenwood 1971 - 2006: May 2006

Remembering Mark Greenwood
1971 - 2006: May 2006

"From Bruce and Claudia" reposted

An earlier post titled "From Bruce and Claudia" was incomplete due to email issues. If you read it before 9:20 am on Tuesday, May 16, you may want to take another look. I corrected it at that time.

Memorial Concert video

I'm planning to film the performances at Mark's concert and produce a dvd for Bruce, Claudia & Kristen. I'll also make the dvd available to anyone else who wants one, for a small fee. (to cover the cost of duplication & materials) More details this Sunday. Also, thanks again to all who've supplied me with photos to use in the tribute video.

More on the Tunnels

I can elaborate on the tunnels story. You know, it sure seems to me like it was the toward the end of college near graduation too. The only thing is, Mark and I were still roommates and I remember exactly how the bunk beds were arranged when Mark came in looking very spooked and upset. I was sitting on my bed and Frank was sitting at one of the desk chairs when Mark came in and said "I got arrested".

You see, some days or weeks before this incident, someone had discovered that there was a door in the conservatory, inadvertently left unlocked by a custodian or someone, that lead down some stairs to the fabled tunnels beneath Capital's campus. (That's another reason I know this was earlier than senior year - this was in the OLD conservatory before the remodel that happened during our junior year). So, of course, we put a posse together and went back late at night to explore.

I'm not 100% sure who all went on that first adventure other than me and Mark but it was just a few of us. Frank? Did you go that first time or a later time? Anyway, I don't think any of us really thought this was going to work. I mean, if there even were such tunnels, there was probably another locked gate or something that would stop us. Nope. Within minutes we were scampering around water pipes and heating ducts in this strange little underworld.

We were actually able to get inside other buildings on the Conservatory side of campus. We could emerge inside the locked library and even climb the stairwell to the roof. It was great!

We did this once or twice more but then too many people started to get wind of it so I, at least, started backing off. Also, the thrill was wearing off with tunneling on that side of campus. We needed new territory and we'd heard about a second set of tunnels on the other side of the street. Some folks had beaten us to it and there were stories about people making it to the cafeteria and helping themselves to ice cream sandwiches and stuff.

Well, we planned our own low profile trip (I think limited to Mark, Frank, and I) through those tunnels. We knew the entrance was through a side door in the building across from the conservatory. Now, Frank and I never considered going anywhere near the tunnels during the day. Mark, however, on the way back from class, decided to check out the situation to prepare for that night. He ventured in to see if the internal gate was unlocked.

As Mark told the story, the clumsy, out of shape security guard who was sitting on a chair in the shadows jumps up and shouts "FREEZE" and then immediately gets on his walki-talkie shouting "Bexley PD! Bexley PD!" like he was some sort of undercover sleuth on his first stake out. Mark was kicking himself later for not just running out of there since it was just a security guard who was obviously more scared than he was and needed the police to do anything anyway.

Well, apparently, someone had been down there prior to Mark some other night and done some sort of damage or left some evidence that people had been there. Like, I think they were trying to kick in a locked gate. Whatever it was, they wanted to pin it on Mark. Of course, nobody I was with ever did anything like that. We were just looking around. The thrill was that we got in so easily. Breaking in kind of takes the fun out of it.

So, some security guard probably would have been sitting there that night when we went in as planned. As bad an idea it was for Mark to check it out during the day - he probably saved Frank and I from the same fate.

From Bruce and Claudia

I am delighting in the stories being written to honor relationships with Mark. Of course, parents' relationships are a bit different [grin!] but I would like to share three that may shed light on the fact that few ever knew for how long, or to what extent, Mark was ill these past ten years or so... Bruce wanted me to share these with you.

The first was a Goulais River story, of course. We recalled this the other day at lunch with Kevin Root, a special treat for us. One warm, sunny afternoon Mark, Kevin, and Dave came speeding up river toward our dock, all three in the stern of the boat, the bow riding high out of the water. As soon as the boat touched the dock, Mark lept out and ran up the steps: "Where's Dad?" "Why?" I remember inquiring. "Well, we think we put a scratch in the bottom of the boat on the big turn upriver." Bruce, who had heard them return, approached and asked, "How small? Where?" "Think it's serious?" Mark said he didn't know but it sounded like it was near the center of the boat, as they were making a sharp turn and hit something submerged. It didn't sound quite like a log. "Well, we'd better pull it out and take a look," Bruce, unbelievably calml! y, suggested. And so they did. Emergency room surgery was performed that afternoon on a little red boat in the Goulais garage. The boys learned a valuable lesson in fiberglassing....and we learned a whole lot about how Mark could minimize the importance of events! We found the culprit later: a 12 inch spike on a railroad tie!

The second story came in the form of a phone call home finals week of Mark's senior year. "Mom, I need your credit card number. Ihave to charge "something." Thinking it was something for graduation I asked, "What?" "My bail," he said. Of course you know what my next question was....and how I was feeling at the time, but there wasn't time to talk as this was his "one phone call." And so began the saga of Mark's being commanded to "Halt!" by a 300 pound security guard in the tunnel between wherever he was and the library.... Thanks to his friends for suggesting that the tunnels were a "must do!" before graduating! [grin!]

The final story many of you are familiar with. It involved a certain house on Dodridge which Mark described to us as "a great deal that just needs "a little work".... There are many pictures to confirm the amount of work that was done to make the hovel a home, the subterranean cistern centerpiece of a studio. But, as much as the Goulais, it is responsible for great memories-- and wonderful music, too.

And so, it shouldn't surprise any of us that when he would get the "flu" he would say, "Don't worry. I'll be better in a few days." Or that he'd tell the hospital staff in Las Vegas, "Don't call my folks. I don't want them to worry."

Again, we are so glad to know that he had many talented, engaging and playful friends who filled his too-short life--and theirs--with such good memories. I look forward to thanking you in person next Sunday in Columbus.

Old Man's Cave

Here are some photos from a day trip to Old Man's Cave that Mark, Faith, Teresa (now my wife) and I took. I was kind of waiting to post these until I heard from Faith.

Remember that most of the pictures on the blog can be clicked to see a larger version.

A Little More Markspeak

Glad to hear from you, Faith. I hope you're doing well. Your post made me remember some of Mark's other phrases...

"Shake a tower" - take a shower

"High-speed backwards" - hairstyle where hair is drastically smooshed all the way forward

"We got acres of..." - having lots of something

"Shmee" - not sure what this one meant, but it was funny

"Billlllll" - friendly greeting, circa 1992

"Reff" - Jeff (Ludwig)

"Take a dook" - go to the bathroom

"Hammy" - hammock

I sure do miss hearing these kinds of things. Thanks for helping me remember, Weezy.

Piss on a Rock

It’s horrible to lose a friend. But what’s horrible about Marks death is that as much as we loved each other, we also regularly frustrated one another. And so in a way that is probably typical of our relationship, I have spent the last weeks going through a full range of emotions: deep sadness, emptiness, anger, and guilt over the many times we fought, broke up, and got back together.

There are also times over the last week that I have laughed about his ways, his style. How he would call things different names.….Cadbury Cream Eggs = Crappy Cream Craigs….Tonka = poop. Horsepistol = Hospital. Tod Thortons = Tim Hortons. Vacay = vacation. Sammie = sandwich When he’d get frustrated, he would say “Piss on a Rock.”. I cringe when I think how I’d call him Greenie and Burg and how he’d tolerate it. It seemed at times, that he put up with me - someone who wasn’t a musician, wasn’t a skier, hated volleyball, made fun of Rush….and brought nude artwork into the apartment. (see Beth’s blog entry)

A couple days after Dana called me and told me he died, we were jogging on the National Mall (I live in DC now, have a baby, and a husband. )and we stopped so that my daughter could get out of the jogger stroller. We were sitting and Julianna started delighting in watching two dogs play. One was a German Shepard, the other a tiny little mutt. They were playing, but really the little one was antagonizing the German Shepard. And the German Shepard was so gentle. He could have stomped on the little one, but didn’t. We were laughing about how hyper that little dog was. .and we walked over to talk to the owners. I said, “Your German Shepard is so kind to that annoying little dog.. what’s the Shepard’s name?” and the guy replied “Jazz.”

The line between life and death isn’t always a harsh divide. Sometimes there are thin spaces where it seems as if those we love reach across. That day on the Mall, watching two very different dogs interact, Mark’s playful spirit became known to me in a way that I can’t totally describe. My eyes were open and I saw the gift Mark Greenwood’s friendship.. His life as I knew him, demonstrated getting along and being friends with all different types of people. Throughout our many differences, he still remained a friend.

As grace would have it, one of my last conversations with Mark was in spring 2000, right before I was heading to seminary. We debated God’s love and the role of religion in our lives. In typical Colburn/Greenwood fashion, we didn’t come to an agreement – but at least we enjoyed the banter. Since then, I finished school and serve as a United Methodist minister at a church in DC. I can’t be at the Tribute concert because I gotta baptize a baby that Sunday but I want everyone to know that I will be thinking about you. I really wish I could see everyone, and hear more stories like these online. Thanks Aaron for the blog and Tiff and Rob and everyone who is pulling the tribute together.
BTW – the naked butt picture that Beth refers to still hangs on the wall of my house. My nieces, who are 7 and 5, like to tell people “Did you know that’s Aunt Faith’s Butt?”.

“the kid that jumped into the bushes”

Many years have passed since Mark and I spent hours together talking, listening to music, driving around town, and “hanging out” with our friends but he never seemed far away because I thought of him so often.

Mark and I met in the early 80s while in junior high. I don’t remember meeting him or when we actually became friends but over time we developed a special bond that kept me connected to him over the years, even though we lost touch with each other after high school. I would like to share some of my thoughts and memories of Mark with you, the people who loved and cared about him, like I did.

One time, Mark rode his bike to my house and a bunch of us ended up playing football in the side yard. As most boys do in 7th grade, he was showing off. Someone threw a pass over his head and he ran and jumped to catch it. Unfortunately for him, he landed in the hedge and had to be pulled out by my father. Dad had to drive him home because he was all cut up. From then on, at my house, he was known as “the kid that jumped into the bushes”.



“Mark’s school picture from 1983 –
I believe it is his 7th grade picture.”


Mark and I were in the percussion section together at both West Junior High and Ashtabula High School. I was a year older than Mark and should have been coaching him in the band but that couldn’t have been further from what was actually going on. Of course, he was a natural and unfortunately, I wasn’t very good – I was lucky to hit the head of the snare drum without dropping my stick. Mark spent a lot of time helping me to “feel the music” - although my skills only improved slightly, we had a great time trying. He never made a negative comment about my lack of skills or about anyone who wasn’t as good as him, he just seemed to enjoy being around people who loved music like he did. Even though he was exceptional, he was also very humble and kind.

High school was a tumultuous time but Mark made it easier and more enjoyable. He was nonjudgmental, respectful, funny, thoughtful, dependable, loving and generous. Reading the other comments, I was pleased to see that his life was full of people who appreciated those things about him.

Often, Mark and I would sit and talk for hours - either alone or with friends. I can’t remember what we talked about but time always seemed to pass too quickly.

”Mark, Dave DeGeorge, Kevin Cherry, and me in 1987”

I will always cherish my time with Mark and think of him with a warm heart.

Rest in peace Mark.

- Stacey

Mark "Flannel" Greenwood

Here are some thoughts about Mark I received from a fellow Capital graduate...

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Hi Aaron,
This is Crystal (Hughes) Traini. You guys won't remember me , but I was the female saxophone major who came in two years after you and Dave. I never actually talked to Mark, but remember him well and was very sad to hear this news. I have had trouble taking him off my mind. He was a very talented drummer, and seemed to be such a nice guy. His smile could melt you. I remember a few things about him. I had a crazy roommate who named her underwear after guys in the conservatory, and gave everyone nicknames. I do remember that Mark's nickname was "flannel", of course because of the flannel shirts he always wore. I used to pass him in the halls in the morning, and would have a mug of coffee and that awesome unshaved chin and messy head, which really worked for him :) He'd tilt his head and say hey. He had a pretty intense gaze at Dr. Swinehart in Wind symphony. The picture on your tribute site of him with his "bedhead", is how I remember him. I was one of those people who was fairly backward in college. I wish I had been a little more outgoing, and had gotten to actually know him.

The guy every girl wanted to date

I found this picture in the basement and it reminds me of a time when it seemed every girl on campus wanted to go out with Mark. I remember being so excited when Mark agreed to go to the ZETA pledge party with me. I'm not sure how much fun Mark had, but he sure made my night.

Sometimes it seems just yesterday that we were all hanging out at the Sheridan Ave apartment! What a brothel that place was, Ha Ha. I still laugh when I think of the day when the Gas company guy had to check for a gas leak and everybody's girlfriend was spending the night. What a sight that must have been!!

And how many times did the girlfirends have to do dishes because we couldn't find a cup to drink out of!! You guys sure were pigs.

Then there was the time that Dave told me about this amazing dish that Mark taught him how to make....Camp supper! I'm sure many of you experinced this delicacy!!??

Then there was 66 California. I can still see the picture of Faith over the mantel, what a sight that was! And who could forget the day the kitchen ceiling fell in. How many weeks did it take to fix that?? And I'm sure Mark would laugh at the fact that Dave still hates to do the dishes.

I really wish that Mark could have met Susannah, I think Susannah would have thought Mark was so hilarious, Susannah loves Steve Martin too. I always think of Mark when Susannah makes me watch Steve Martin on the Muppet show.

Squinty Tuff-guy Union of Diggers

Most people aren't aware, but Mark belonged to a fraternal organization outside of college life. Mark is pictured here, along with his brothers in the Columbus chapter of the Squinty Tuff-guy Union of Diggers (S.T.U.D.)

Do NOT mess with us!

This is a picture that Amy Mailer (Anspaugh) gave me recently. It's me (Aaron), Mark, and Frank Combs early in our first year at Capital - I think. This dorm room did NOT belong to any of the three of us. I SWEAR! I don't even know what that clown thing is on the wall!

I don't remember if mullets were still in style back then - but Mark made it work. Seriously, just imagine me or Frank with one in that picture. Not so good.

Well, actually, I do kind of look like Rick Springfield...


Nobody messed with "The Theater Clown Posse"! Nobody!

Mark at Photo Shoot

I think this is from a very cold New Basics Brass Band photo shoot. I had my camera because Faith Colbern (pictured stealing a bite from whatever Mark was eating) was borrowing it to take the photos.

[Dave Bushey pictured in the background]