Dan Kempner
My friend Jonesy used to write articles regularly for Legacy Magazine, as did I. We would read one another’s pieces – just to give ‘em a once-over, make sure they were up to snuff – before hitting our respective ‘send’ buttons.
Those buttons put our stuff directly onto Jim Ellis’s desktop, and we were each likely to get a lusty reply like, “Wow, great stuff, Jonesy!” or “I love it, Kempner! You’ve still got it.” He was fond of exclamation marks, was Jim, and from a writer’s point of view, he was a great cheerleader, a teaser, a man who could coax you to write something even when it was the last thing you wanted to do. He was a marshmallow, so far as I was concerned.
In the scheme of things, we barely knew one another. West Coast/East Coast, for one thing. But, we’d worked on some programs together over the years and stayed in touch. When I had questions about getting my own book published, we’d talked more than once, at length. Helping others write and publish is what he did for a living but, despite hours of his time, reams of good advice, and dozens of useful questions, he never charged me a cent.
I was among the first to hear that he was gone, from a man in California who had it from one of Jim’s teammates. I learned immediately that Jim’s team – knowing he was pretty far down in the dumps – had piled on over to his house when he failed to show up for their meeting.
How typical, right? And how fucking awesome. When he didn’t appear, these men – just regular old MDI dudes – bagged their meeting and drove to Jim’s home to make sure he was alright. He wasn’t, of course: he was already dead, having taken his own life on the way. They were standing with his wife, wondering where he was, when the cops gave them the news.
So, being a gossip, and a shocked one at that, I played my own part in the game of telephone, and called Jonesy right away.
“HOLY SHIT!” he said, followed immediately by, “Fuck! I bet there are men all over MDI who are beating the shit out of themselves right now that they didn’t stop him from doing it.”
True that. They had done everything a team could do, and had shown the hell up… just a little too late. And right or wrong, they were fucked up about it. Pretty soon that fucked-up feeling spread around MDI, as the ridiculous number of men whom Jim had known, had touched, had impacted, learned he was gone.
And that’s how the suicide merry-go-round goes, I guess. Shock. Grief. Pain. And then, at some point, what the fuck, Jim!? How could you do this to us? And more grief.
Anyway, men grow up, they live and they die and, if they’re lucky, they manage to make others feel good about themselves, help others improve, make a mark for the better on the lives of those they know. Jim did that, for sure.
The West Coast men I know tell me he was a real hard-ass, a stickler for the truth, a man who demanded their best. He may well have been that but I never saw it. To me he was a goof, a marshmallow. An editor who loved his writers and his readers and the work he did for both. Which just goes to show how much more there was for me to learn about Jim, if he’d given me the freaking chance.
Meanwhile, someone has to fill his shoes at Legacy Magazine. For the moment, that person is me. And as I write this, and find it inadequate to what I really feel, what I really need to say, I wish that ol’ marshmallow was there to read my piece and say, “Wow, Kempner! You really nailed this one! How do you do it?”
I don’t know, Jim. But I know I have to do it without you, and that sucks.
“Wow, Kempner! You really nailed this one!!!
I too, am a fan of exclamation points!! I’ll even ALL CAPS a word or two to get you to notice, (drives my wife crazy). I don’t know either of you but I am still saddened by the news of the loss of a man by his own hands. Mental well being is tough, especially for older men. Most of us loose our friendships, for various reasons, and don’t put the effort into cultivating new friendships.
PLEASE, do the work! Make that call. Let this be a strong reminder to look after yourself AND look after your pals. Don’t let another man have to say WTF!!
Hi Dan, thanks for sharing this difficult news. My name is Jeff and I’m a friend of Jim’s. A handful of us often attend City Council meetings and Board of supervisors meetings, regularly calling out all the fraud, tyranny, and deliberate move toward technocracy that not many yet see. Jim could see.
While most of us would attend these meetings in person, Jim would regularly call in to the meetings and give his two minute speeches via the phone. His humor, wit and knowledge would echo through the overhead speakers in these swindling rooms of deceit and his messages were always poignant and on the mark. We loved his call ins. They were great.
About a year ago he shared an excellent written piece of his called “in the game.” At the beginning of it he shared his related camaraderie with your men’s group as well as our circle. I’ll share the piece below.
Not that we’re actually a group of any sort, but when we learned of Jim’s passing we were all as traumatized as your group was I’m sure. A couple of our friends had a strong suspicion that he may have taken his own life. Things just didn’t add up. While it still feels horrible, it feels better knowing more information. I am still curious yet. If you have anything more to share, please don’t hesitate to contact me via my email. I love Jim. We all loved Jim. I’m so very sorry we couldn’t help him to stay “In the game.”
Always worthwhile to be in the game by James Ellis:
(Day 3 of 31-day writing challenge #justwrite2024)
ALWAYS WORTHWHILE TO BE IN THE GAME
The other day, at a division meeting within my international men’s organization, I was moved deeply when a few men mentioned how much they wanted to be on my men’s team. I felt seen, heard, valued.
To be wanted heals my past on many levels, and it builds me up emotionally, mentally, and even spiritually in the moment. At the same time, I could imagine other men who just wouldn’t want to circle up with me, for various reasons, none the least my hyper willingness to bring forth perceptions, viewpoints and challenges not always very popular.
Such a phenomenon happens to my other circle of friends who often attend City Council and Board of Supervisor’s meetings, bringing their A game to those who either love their expression or despise it. Either way, they – as I like to be – are in the game.
________
“In The Game”
It’s tough being in the game
You could be hurt; you could be maimed
You could be carried out on stretcher, laid out
You could lose big time in an all-time, full-on blow out
Opponents could target you, pushing for your ultimate fall
Opposing crowds could boo, throwing the occasional snowball
You could appear the laughing stock when you miss the shot
You could fall short when you’ve given all you’ve got
I’ll take the lumps and bumps, thank you, just the same
At least I am out there, giving my best, in the game
Speaking up when others want you to just be quiet
Even when standing up to a row of rowdies ready to riot
Even when it appears you stand up lonely and alone
Even when it elicits that embarrassing collective groan
Even if others choose to avoid or shun or destroy or degrade
Even when you know it will be your own bed you will have made
When the pain and secrets are swept under the carpet, even at home
When the corrupt or unconscious don’t see what you have shown
Speaking up – it’s what must be done if just to keep one sane
Unfortunately or fortunately, I guess I’m in the game
In the game … nothing to pull back from, in shame
If we ever do hold back, perhaps we are the ones to blame
Freedom of speech, freedom for all – embrace at your will
There will be an inner voice – eternally small and still
We can be faithful, if not to our gut or heart, then perhaps this nudge
And take a stand – firmly, truthfully, honestly, unwilling to budge
Not in defiance to others’ opinions, which always have a place
But in alignment with a foundation in unity, born of grace
We can take the slings and arrows, the cheers and jeers; we are all the same
I’ll join you on that field, giving our best … in the game
#justwrite2024
Kempner,
Like you said, many feel much pain for his loss, his absence…and as much as it hurts, it sucks. Jim was a man of depth, in many ways, a man you could always count on for speaking up and demanding the best of men, demanding truth – aspiring freedom – but never demanding anything he wasn’t willing to, or didn’t already, bring in himself.
My first team meeting ever was at his house, so he was also the first MDI man (other than my sponsor) who I met…and I couldn’t have asked for a man more representative of what it means to be a masculine leader.
My heart, your heart, all our hearts were broken by this tragic event. Each of us who had the privilege of knowing Jim were touched. So, I propose, let each of us take what he left us with and live it forward.
Thank you for opening this space for of us to remember him by.