Pied Piper
Here is a letter to the editor of The Daily World- Aberdeen,
Washington April 22, 1994 by Larry Smith (Kurt's unlce by marriage)
Stolen from The Sweish Nirvna page
I would like to share some of the memories and perceptions I have concerning
this unique, rare and original human being called Kurt Cobain. I knew Kurt
during his teen-age years in the period from about 1979 to 1984. I was
in my mid-30s and living in and near Montesano. My sister married Kurt's
dad, Don, and also lived in Montesano.
My grandfather comprehended the intelligence and individuality in Kurt
at a time when Kurt was being beaten down mentally and physically. "Gramps"
often told me of his respect for Kurt's tenacity and compassion even though
he was in emotional pain. Shortly before Gramps died, he had been talking
about Kurt. He looked at me and said words to the effect that he could
see a nobility about Kurt that he had never seen in anyone in all his 70
years.
One time, Gramps invited Kurt along on one of our steelhead fishing
trips. We were spread out a few hundred feet apart along the Wynooche River.
All of a sudden, we heard this horrendous combination of screaming, warbling
and yodeling from Kurt, who was upstream and out of sight. Gramps told
me to run up there and help Kurt, who must have hooked a big fish. When
I reached Kurt, he didn't even have his line in the water. When I asked
him what was going on, he just looked at me with those piercing eyes and
huge grin. He said, "Oh, I'm just trying to thicken my vocal chords
so I can scream better!" When I went back to Gramps to tell him, he
just grinned and said, "It figures, We'll just let him be!" We
can now say, "Thank you, Kurt, for thickening your vocal chords!"
Kurt didn't fit the general mold of society in a logging town, and
so he was beaten upon by people who didn't understand him. One day I heard
that he was in a fight a few blocks away. When I ran to the scene, the
fight was over. However, I heard from a friend that Kurt was assaulted
by a burly, 250-pound logger type. Evidently, Kurt did not even fight;
he just presented the bully with the appropriate hand gesture everytime
he was knocked down until the bully gave up. To top it all off, Kurt just
had that usual grin on his face!
A final footnote to this small remembrance of Kurt: A wonderful picture
comes to mind of a rare, sunny day when I peeked out the window into the
yard. There was Kurt with some kind of contraption on his head. It resembled
a tinfoil hat. He was sneaking around the yard, followed by about half
a dozen laughing toddlers. Kurt had the million dollar grin on his face,
and I could tell he was definitely in "nirvana." I guess you
could say he was the "pied piper" of compassion.
I hope that these little examples of happiness will help to show that
even though Kurt experienced pain in his teen-age years he still did not
let that pain stop him from loving life as fully as he could. We should
never condemn Kurt for leaving us. We should instead look inward and thank
him for loving us enough to share his feelings. Let us learn that no amount
of pain will ever stop us from loving life. We must all maintain respect
for the signifigance of our own lives, as well as the lives of others.
Larry Smith
Kurt's uncle by marriage
This is a few notes from Larry posted on the Heart
Shaped Mailbox Nirvana mailing list.
-* BTW, just to clear things up with this message- Mr. Smith told me
that his sister was married to Kurt's Dad after the divorce, and so that
would make him Kurts uncle. He offered to tell more about Kurt as a kid,
and so here it is- Jarrett*-
Okay Jaredt. Here is a little glimpse of a happy side of Kurt. A measure
of the kind of Man he was, even when he was about 15 years old: Old Man
Reeves was this kind of eccentric guy who lived on Sylvia Street in Montesano.
He was a loner and kids used to really give him a bad time, and do cruel
things to him. He would come out on his porch and shake his fist at his
tormentors and scream profanities. We (myself included, when I was younger)
just loved it. Sometimes kids would throw rocks and break his windows or
pull up his flowers (myself not included, thank goodness). He was know
for a couple of generations of kids as a real weird and mean guy, even
though in actuality he was not. The tormentg went on through quite a few
years, and a new group of kids would take over for the old. Kurt, however,
changed the tradition. When he was running around with Matt Lukin (I think
now of Mudhoney??), Kurt saw the usual group of guys giving Old Man Reeves
a hassle. He literally screamed at these guys to leave Old Man Reeves alone.
He was so emotional about it (as only Kurt could be) that he stopped these
kids in their tracks. They just dropped their jaws as Kurt walked up to
Mr. Reeves, put his arm around him, and led him into the house. From that
point on, Kurt had tea with Old Man Reeves quite often. The fact that someone
was becoming a friend with Old Man Reeves sort of took the "fun"
out of tormenting the elderly man, and there was never quite as much hassle
for the guy. A simple story, but it shows Kurt's sense of humility, compassion,
and individuality...(I am describing this as I remember it. It was related
to me by my friend Greg Moore of Montesano). If this stuff is interesting
to you folks, please know that I have a bunch of memories of Kurt from
those years I knew him. I was NOT his greatest buddy or anything, but we
had some fun together. Although I was in my 30's at the time (1978 to about
1984), I can tell you that he was an unbelievable kid. Absolute compassion.
I miss him. Please let me know if you would like to hear some more about
Kurt from my perspective.
"Gramps" (my grandfather) and I used to take a lot of hikes up
the Wynoochee River headwaters into the Olympic National Park. He was a
great naturalist and it was a joy to be able to accompany him into the
mountain meadows.
When Kurt was about 13 or 14, Gramps and I were driving through Montesano
on our way to the Wynoochee Valley uto drive up to the valley head. Well,
here it was, early in the morning, and Kurt was out walking up Third Street.
Gramps stopped the pickup and yelled Hello to Kurt. Kurt was lost in thought,
so Gramp had to say something like "Hey Kurt! Wake Up!" (I think
that is exactly what he yelled at Kurt). I cannot forget that huge grin
when Kurt looked at Gramps. He yelled back words to the effect of: "Hey
Amos! Wake up yourself!" (Amos was my grandfather's middle name, and
almost nobody got away with calling him that). Kurt told Gramps that he
was out taking a hike up to Lake Sylvia State Park. Gramps told Kurt that
he and I were on our way up the Wynoochee for a little hiking ourselves.
Gramps turned to me in the truck and asked if we ought to ask Kurt, and
we agreed that we sure should. But Kurt said no, he was just taking a short
stroll, and "thanks anyway". So, we headed down the street towards
the highway. However, when Gramps looked in his rear view mirror, he just
started howling with laughter... when I looked back, there was Kurt, doing
these sort of jumping jacks and spinning around like a madman. He noticed
that we slowed, so he motioned Gramps to come back. Typical of Kurt, he
just hopped in and said: "Let's go, Gramps!" "Hello Larry!"
Gramps went back to his house and got another pack out of the garage. I
drove us up to the Wynoochee with Gramps in the middle and Kurt on the
passenger side of the truck. I didn't really talk much to Kurt, but he
just jabbered all the way up the long, dusty drive up logging roads. I
wish I could remember more of the things he said. I do know he talked about
the cows and how "slow" they were. Also, I remember him asking
Gramps why the Hell he didn't have a radio in the truck!
So, anyway, we drove up the logging roads up into the start of alpine
meadows on the National Park border. We put our packs on, and Kurt immediately
started bitching about his heavy pack. Hell, his pack was the lightest!
I don't think he had more than my extra stocking hat and Gramps extra coat
in it. Also, a plastic water bottle and some candy bars. I think he ate
3 of the candy bars before we even got going. We started up through the
timberu up this very steep creek bed, with Kurt sliding and stumbling all
over the place. He just groaned and complained the whole way up through
the timberline. I do remember that when we broke out into the alpine meadows,
Kurt was just stunned by the beauty. I distinctly remember his yelling
something like: "Holy Shit!" I do remember Gramps saying "Not
bad, huh Kurt?" And, it sure was "not bad", with the alpine
flowers blooming, beautiful meadows, and little waterfalls. I went over
to some trees to go to the bathroom, and when I came back to where Kurt
and Gramps were, Kurt was sort of "grazing" down on the ground,
looking at all these little flowers and eating dwarf blueberries. Gramps
just winked at me and had this huge smile, and did one of those gestures
where you take your index finger and spin it around your ear to say: "He's
nuts!" I don't remember too much more about the hike, at least in
the perspective of what Kurt did. We did go on up to Mt. Hoquiam, and I
remember we had to do a lot of waiting for Kurt; sometimes he would be
a few hundred yards behind! You just weren't going to hurry Kurt, and that
was all there was to it!
You know, the most vivid memory of this hike was on the way down through
the steep trees after we dropped off the edge of the meadows: we were sort
of crashing and sliding down the very steep terrain. Kurt was off to my
right side and I could see he was just sort of looking up into the treetops
as he was walking. I just cringed when he really hit hard into a big mountain
hemlock. I mean, he really smashed into it. He sort of staggered over to
me with this stupid grin on his face and said: "Boy, that kind of
hurt. Got any more candy bars?"
I hope this story makes sense. As I said, these little memories are
not earth-shattering, but at least give a glimpse into the essence of Kurt.
I wish I would have kept contact with him for the past ten years, and not
just because he became famous. He was hard to track down, and I tried a
few times. I always wanted to sort of just sit down and talk about Gramps
to him. I did write him a letter when Gramps died, but I don't think he
ever got it. I miss the guy. He was so mellow and so comfortable, and so
unpredictabl A fun teenager and a brilliant mind.
This little slice of time in Kurt's life is an elaboration of the memory
I had when my grandfather took Kurt and myself on one of his steelhead
fishing trips to the Wynoochee River. I first related this at the memorial
at the Seattle Center. I would like to be so bold as to add to what I remember
here. I had related at the memorial that Kurt had been howling and screaming
and generally making a lot of noise. Gramps had told me to go upstream
to find Kurt because he must have hooked into a big fish..and, of course,
you all know that he didn't even have his line in the water! He was just
kicking back against a good sized rock in the sunshine, practicing his
screaming so, as he put it: "I can strengthen my vocal cords"...
Well, I need to relate that, driving up the Wynoochee Road to the fishing
spot, Kurt was really just "talking up" about how he was going
to really try to catch one of those big lunkers. I mean, he was nearly
bragging about how he just knew he could cast his line probably even better
than Gramps. Of course he knew damn well that Gramps had been fishing for
the difficult-to-catch steelheads for probably 40-plus years. He was just
smiling and "getting Gramps' goat" with his comments. I wish
I could remember the exact comments, but I don't...sorry. Anyway, we went
down the Anderson Creek road, which is gravel, and deadends about 100 yards
from the river. From there, you have to walk through fairly thick brush
to the gravel bar. Gramps got out of the truck on his side, and Kurt and
I got out on the passenger side. Gramps told Kurt to "close the truck
door solid, so it would close all the way." Of course, this was a
cue for Kurt to overdo it..he gave me that wild-eyed grin, took both hands,
and just "cranked" on that door! Gramps jumped about a mile!
Kurt just cracked up, and was bent over laughing at this stupid little
trick! I mean, I didn't think it was so funny, but Kurt sure thought HE
was funny! Gramps told Kurt and I to hold our fishing poles backward, with
the tip behind us, so we could get through the brush easier, explaining
that if you hold it forward, it is hard to twist and turn through the heavy
stuff. Gramps led the way, I followed him, and Kurt was behind me. No sooner
had we gone about 50 feet, and Kurt was somewhere behind us, squawking
and bitching..Gramps looked at me and said something like: "Christsakes,
what's he got screwed up now?" We went back there, and Kurt was just
tugging like a maniac on his fishing pole, which was caught in the weeds
and the branches. Gramps said something like, "Well, I thought you
were going to be the BEST fisherman here today, Kurt. You know, yhou have
to make it to the river before you can even think about catching anything!"
Of course, now Kurt is a little pissed. He just looked away while Gramps
cut away the absolute birds-nest of entangled nylon that Kurt had created
with his impatient tugging and pulling... We got to the river, and Gramps
pointed out to us to sort of start at the top end of the "hole"
where the rapids hit the deep water, and work our way down the hole with
repeated casts, so as to "sweep" the whole area where a fish
might lie. But, NO, NOT KURT! He said that he was going to search upstream
to the next "hole" and do it on his own. Gramps just grinned,
shook his head, and said for Kurt to just go ahead and do his own thing.
So, the last picture I had in my head was Kurt, stumbling up the gravel
bar, fishing pole jerking around spasmodically every time he falf-slipped
on rocks, heading for that "big fish"> Now, I am back to where
I was in the eulogy, with Kurt kicking back and "strengthening his
vocal cords". I noticed that his lure was just sort of displayed on
top of a rock, liked he had carefully placed it there so he could just
sort of stare at it! I am not sure, but I think that Kurt never did get
his lure in thewater that day. Whenever I saw him, he was just screwing
off, looking at log jams, skipping rocks, and turning boulders over to
look at the various creatures. I do remember thinking, "what a weirdo
-- came to do some fishing, bragged about his fishing ability ahead of
time, then goes off to do something completely different!" The only
other thing that I remember with clarity is Gramps telling Kurt: "No,
you can't ride in the back of the truck. You might fall out." I assume
Kurt must have asked to ride back there. I know Kurt talked on the way
back to Montesano, but I just don't remember what he said... Well, that's
it. Kind of mundane, but, when I think back on it, a smile HAS to come
to my face. (Please be aware that I have tried to be as accurate as possible,
and that some of my quotes are only approximations of what I remember Kurt
or Gramps saying - after all, this was 15 or 16 years ago). I hope that
my descriptions will at least give you a "picture" of the the
essence of Kurt's actions, and tha{ they show his very typical human nature...well,
SORT of typical... :-)
for those wondering if this really is Kurt's uncle or not, a HSMB member
had talked to an detective in Aberdeen to see if he really was Kurt's uncle,
he was verified as real and telling the truth.
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