My Wedding Day: Me, Jeff Mara, PJ Margraf, Jeff "Bech" Bechinski, Drew Hyer, Rick Cass. This is how I remember my friend Bech in my mind's eye
A picture of Jeff doodling from the 1982 Rogers High School Year Book
The only cartoon I could find on Bech’s Facebook
The soundtrack for the Haunted House party we hosted
One of Jeff's Halloween Creations
Beware this drink!
Who ya gonna’ call?
Bech and daughter Sara take a walk at Lake Michigan
My Friend Jeff Bechinski - A Remembrance
June 24, 2010
In the middle of a business meeting Tuesday I received a sad message. My friend Jeff Bechinski died unexpectedly June 21. Bech (Pronounced “Betch”) as we knew him at Rogers High School in Michigan City, Indiana popped back into my life unexpectedly on Facebook recently. I hadn’t heard from him since 1987, so this was a welcome and surprising reunion.
Cue “Reelin’ In The Years” by Steely Dan…
I don’t remember when or how I met Bech. It was at Rogers High School, probably after I broke up with a girlfriend who had a LARGE circle of friends. This break up necessitated that I find a new circle of friends. One of them was Jeff Bechinski. Maybe I met Bech in one of my four years of art class? Bech was a tall, gangly young fellow with an infectious smile and laugh, a shock of somewhat curly brown hair, and a wee bit of baby fat. We were fast friends, and Bech soon joined a newly formed circle of pals that spent a lot of time driving around, hanging at the Marquette Mall, going to movies, listening to rock (wasn’t classic back then), and enjoying our (mostly) care free teen existence. That circle of friends included Bech, Tom “Hutch” Hutchinson, Tony (can’t remember his last name), Jeff Mara, Joe Jaques and a few others I can’t remember. Man I wish I could remember more…
Cue “You Can’t Turn Back” by Red Rider
Bech was an amazing artist, and his specialty was cartooning. I will admit that I was jealous of his skill; he taught me a lot about the craft. And because I was green with envy at his art, he pushed me to be a better artist. We loved to sketch stuff and show each other. Of course most of his art featured his primary love –horror, zombie, and monster stuff. We spent many happy hours drawing together. I have vivid memories of many sessions we spent drawing and painting giant banners for the Rogers Raiders High School basketball team that had a pretty good run while during our school years. We would sit, design, draw and paint together laughing all the while and listening to Bech’s GIGANTIC boom box, of the old school ghetto blaster variety. It was large and silver and rocked hard. We would listen to The Loop – FM 98 “Where Chicago Rocks,” Rush, Red Rider, Boston, Journey, Queen, The Scorpions, etc. while we worked and painted away with a small group of friends. Those were good times.
Cue “The Monster Mash” By Bobby “Boris” Pickett and the Crypt-Kickers
Bech loved all things horror-related. Not the slasher-variety that is so popular today, but the classic spooky stuff – Frankenstein, Dracula, Zombies, ghosts, ghouls and goblins. One Halloween (Bech’s favorite holiday) he had a fantastic idea…convert my parents basement into a gigantic old-school terrifying Haunted House. I loved the idea, and we spent several weeks designing and creating a Haunted Maze in my parent’s utility room. We cut garbage bags down the seams and duct-taped them together to create the maze walls, we designed and drew large posters and decorated with horrific love and care. We recruited some of our friends, outfitted them in scary cool costumes, and invited other friends (including my younger sister and some of her friends) over for an evening of blood-curdling merriment. There were forbidding snacks (Mom helped with some of those), and a terror-filled soundtrack. Everyone had a blast…and Bech recently commented on a Zombie-themed picture of mine of Facebook “Ya never looked better, dude! Hey, can we build a haunted house in yer basement?”
Cue “Free Will” by Rush
My friends and I loved to rock, and rock hard. We spent a lot of time in my basement listening to our favorite tunes. One evening we were jamming to Rush and “Free Will” came blasting through my speakers. Several of my friends were over, Bech was there, and my sister had a friend or two there as well. We formed an impromptu air band…with Bech on lead guitar (or was it Bech on drums)? I remember that we played those air instruments so hard we worked up a sweat by the end of the song. What a blast!
Cue “Bohemian Rhapsody” by Queen
Long before the stars of Wayne’s World drove in the car singing “Bohemian Rhapsody” my friends and I happily sped through the cold Michigan City winter in my 1978 Chevy Monza singing Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” as loud as we could. I vividly recall Bech, Jeff Mara, Hutch and I merrily harmonizing (?) as we sped through the streets of Laporte County after a basketball game, likely on the way to grab a pizza. We magically split off into parts during the Opera-like portion of the song. Four friends singing together in a car may not be the most dynamic of events, but for this happy memory reminds me of a simple and carefree time when life was rich and full of promise.
Cue “You Better You Bet” by The Who
After graduating from Rogers I stayed around Michigan City and got a job at Jaymar Ruby. I dated a girl from the church I was attending. That relationship didn’t last long, and I used this as an excuse to go on my first and only drinking binge. I believe Bech, Hutch, and Jeff Mara all accompanied me on that night. We headed to a friends house to watch one of the MANY farewell tours of The Who on cable and began the night with beer and Boone’s Farm Strawberry Wine (you know this can’t end well when Boone’s Farm is in the mix). We then headed to McDonald’s for a late night McNugget fest – they were new at the time. I had a 20 pack, with Hot Mustard. Yum. We then headed towards my folks house, planning a basement evening with drinking, music, and likely Saturday Night Live and SCTV. I assume I did not drive (I hope). We had some Jack Daniels and 7-Up and decided to mix up some 7 and 7s. I was determined to drink my sorrows away to forget the girl, and I later found my friends were pouring around ¾ cup whiskey to ¼ cup 7-Up. I pounded down a few of these and promptly passed out, much to the merriment of my buddies. I remember waking up at 2.30 AM suspended over a utility sink propped up by Bech and my friends. This earned me the short lived nickname “McChuck.” I remember being thankful for my friends taking such good care of me in the middle of the night as I barfed my guts up.
Incidentally, this was the last hangover I ever had. I suffered through singing in a choir special at church that Sunday. While singing in a fog induced haze I spied the woman would become (and still is) my bride. Lyndy was sitting in the pews looking amazing. Love at first sight!
Cue “Ghostbusters” by Ray Parker Jr.
Sometime in 1984 I hung out with Bech for one of the last times I remember. The movie “Ghostbusters” was a huge hit…and of course Bech loved it. He loved it so much he created the “Bechmobile” – a loving tribute to the movie. It was a white AMC Gremlin customer painted by Bech to resemble the car in the movie. There were the classic Ghostbusters “NO GHOST” paintings on each door, and a skull in the rear window with red lights in the eye sockets that both lit up when he braked, and would blink left or right when he put on the turn signals. The auto probably had other nifty Bech-like touches that I forget. It was a very cool car, and the custom work Bech did was amazing. We were driving down Earl Road, heading who knows where when we saw a red light and heard a siren – after us! Bech was doing around 50 in a 35 zone. The cop who stopped us was a nasty fellow…he yelled at Bech, wouldn’t let him talk at all, threw him up against the car and kicked his legs open. Bech handled himself well despite the abuse. Both of us knew better than to argue with an angry cop with short man’s disease (the cop was a wee fellow). This guy PISSED me off severely; his treatment of my friend was shabby and inexcusable. But I had an ace in the sleeve. My Dad was chief of police at the time. And while I would not normally “narc” on someone to my Dad, I figured this arrogant little twit deserved what was coming to him. I told Dad about the incident, and the cop got suspended. Go Dad.
I recently asked Bech if he had any pix of that car. Sadly, he did not keep any.
Cue “Fire and Rain” by James Taylor
Then life happened. I met my future bride Lyndy, got way too busy for my friends (my wife and I both regret that), and got married (my wife and I don’t regret that). Bech was a groomsman at my wedding. And we lost touch soon after that.
I saw him once in Ft. Wayne in 1987 when my family and I stayed there briefly for a few months on a break from college. We both had mullets. His hair was VERY long – mid-back. It was great to see him, but we had both changed immensely and grown apart.
Fast forward to the last year or two. Bech and I became Facebook friends and started caught up quickly. He married a wonderful lady (Ronda) and had a daughter that was his pride and joy (Sara). Bech posted a “Lyric of the Day”…sometimes several a day…and several of his friends (especially Molly Colangelo, Jeff Mason, and myself) battled it out for the correct (non-Googled) answer. Bech would post a YouTube video if no one could guess.
Jeff and I messaged each other on Facebook, and chatted a few times. I never understood why he gave up drawing…he had such talent. In a private chat he shared his reasons (I'll honor his wishes and not share that). I encouraged him to pick up a pen again. He was such an amazing artist.
Before Memorial Day we talked about getting together again in Michigan City. Bech was going to visit his Mom, and she lives just a few doors down from my parents. My kids decided on a visit to our house so I had to pass. Bech and I exchanged phone numbers, and I was excited about the prospect of seeing him again and catching up this summer.
I never made a phone call to his number. And now it is too late.
I don’t understand why this happened. I hope to someday on the other side of this life.
R.I.P. Jeff Bechinski. You were my friend. I wish we wouldn’t have fallen out of touch. Ronda and Sara will stay in my prayers for years to come.
Won't you look down upon me, Jesus
You've got to help me make a stand
You've just got to see me through another day
My body's aching and my time is at hand
And I won't make it any other way
Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I'd see you again
James Taylor – “Fire and Rain”
5 comments:
I miss him as well. This was a wonderful blog post about it, and I feel you captured his personality well. Reading this I laughed (remembering some of the same things), I cried, and I smiled because I was so happy to have been able to re-connect with him as well. Thank you.
Barry, this was such an amazing tribute! I remember so many of those same things. My first concert was with Jeff, my brother and his (then girlfriend) wife, and we saw RUSH. Jeff drove, and I stayed up the whole drive back talking to him (my brother and his wife were sleeping in the backseat).
He and I didn't get to see each other very often; although I did go to his wedding to Ronda, and I have seen Sara when she was a baby. He had such a loving family.
Even on facebook, Jeff and I would chat on Saturday or Sunday early mornings when everyone else was still asleep. We also talked about getting together in MC. We are only 20 minutes away in New Carlisle, and it would have been an easy drive.
I hate to admit, but I thought your post was some kind of cruel, sick joke (or at least I'd hoped it was). I checked different sources because I didn't want it to be true. He was such a dear friend for, gosh has it really been 30 years???? I still haven't fully registered it.
Thank you, again, Barry. You brought back some great memories!
Anne
Anne: When I got the message from Jeff's friend Dan I was in shock...I hoped it was be some cruel hoax as well. But when Dan sent me the obituary it sank in that he was gone. This tribute was my way of dealing with this. Thanks for the kind words.
Thank you so much for this remembrance. I was friends with Jeff via Dan (worked with him/publishing) circa 1989 to 1993. We would do our laundry together at laundrymat in Ft. Wayne. Jeff made us shirts and ornaments re: our Laundry Club. He was freakin' hilarious. I so related to him. Loved horror. He was a Stephan King fan, read The Stand. We saw Rush in concert and Neil Young. He made me tapes of Stevie Ray Vaughn and Paul Simon, etc. We'd hang in his apt. with shag carpeting and he'd tell about the sweet old lady landlord. He was Polish and recalled eating Duck Blood Soup. He was so talented but too damn humble. I'd say some low self-esteem, like many people (myself included). He visited me in Milwaukee about 17 years ago with Dan and Ronda, they'd started dating. We lost touch after and I just saw his FB site and intended to send a friend request and figured had all the time in the world. I had two daughters and divorced, husband was a gambling addict, job and house to take care of. He and I did comment on Jimmy Dean's demise on Dan's facebook page. Damn. I never got to talk to him again. Jeff had depression. It's a clinical, medical deal. He didn't want to try medication, etc. I know this from talking to someone who knew him well. It makes me so sad. If he'd had high blood pressure, it would have been diagnosed and treated. In this day and age, so many people still don't believe real, chronic depression is real. They say pull yourself up by the boot-straps. I know this whole thing because have experienced it personally and still would stop even mild medication because felt like I should be able to. Jeff was strong, like I am. He was raised in the country and used to hard work. That makes us especially stubborn and keep it in and try. I feel so bad that Jeff went through so much inner turmoil and couldn't or wouldn't identify the real, physical cause. I feel awful for Ronda and Sara. And if you think it's rude or odd for a stranger to say all of these things, I will just tell you that this was so tragic, and if one comment I make to people who knew jeff makes them think about the view of depression and how such funny, great and loving people feel they have no other way to turn, then maybe they'll notice such a thing about a friend or family member or themselves and be open-minded about trying medication or therapy or better yet, both. Jeff left so many of us with great memories, and that's the best. =bettina miller, milwaukee, wi
Ten years later, and I'm only now learning of Jeff's passing. Jeff introduced me in college to Rush, and I was a fan ever since. He played it a bit too late into the night for my tastes (damn art majors), so one day I woke him up at 7 am, the official end of quiet hours, with two speakers outside his door playing AC/DC at full volume.
He threw me my belated 21st birthday party in his funky "attic" apartment in downtown Fort Wayne. I'd like to tell him how much I appreciated that. He hosted me again for a few days in the late 80s when I was riding my bike through Fort Wayne, giving me a place to rest from a knee injury. He was a great friend, but for whatever reason we lost touch not long after that.
Sometime before 2010 he reached out to me, I believe by email, just to make contact again. I regret that I didn't respond, not because I didn't want to do so, but because I was ashamed of where I was in my life - divorced, childless, and unhappy with work. I so wish I had done so. Some years back I found his address, and sent him a photo of a piece of artwork that he had made for me in college, stored for all that time in a closet in my mom's house. I never heard back, and now I know why.
I'm saddened by his passing, and I echo Bettina's comment about depression. I let mine prevent me from writing back to Jeff, and his obviously took away more than a friendship.
If any of his family would like to have that piece of artwork, I believe that I still have it and I would be very happy to send it your way. It's mostly calligraphy of Vangelis' "So long ago so clear."
~ Will Guilford, Charlottesville, VA ("Sparky" to St. Francis folks)
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