Remembering Derek Bill
They say somewhere that we are but dust and return to dust, yet somehow, people come along in your life that become anchors... someone you consider significant to be steadfast in your life. My friend Derek Bill was one of those people.
He was never a guy who wanted to play guitar or sing, or to be a rock star, but he was a guy who relished the recording and technical side of music. He enjoyed breaking songs into their components, and analyzing them and how they blended together. He had what one would call an "inquiring mind."
Derek was not a religious person nor I am aware if he even had a concept of a higher power, but he was a person who believed strongly in justice, and who felt strongly about social issues...poverty, discrimination, the environment, fairness, and respect for other cultures.
There were times we shared when things were Beach Boys centered. We traded records and tapes, and I became aware that there was a world that loved those daffy Californians as much as I did. It was hell being a Beach Boys fan back then. Everything was "heavy."
We started a network of people who exchanged cassettes. We never wanted this stuff to be anything other than expanding our music. We wanted to hear stuff...the idea of being "busted" was the farthest thing from our minds. Then it happened, and it all ground to a halt. But the genie was out of the bottle, and more and more music surfaced. The music, especially Smile, took on a life of it's own. It all began with guys like Derek, Bob Hanes, and a few others. For many years, we were dedicated to keeping The Beach Boys flame burning, even when the group themselves were crashing and burning.
I went to graduate school, got my Ph.D. and went into therapy. Derek married, had a family, and became a dad. He worked hardest at being a family man, a person his children could point to and say "that's my dad, and he is behind me, no matter what." His capacity for love of his wife and children was unlimited.
Derek and I oddly reconnected when we both lived in Albuquerque for awhile. He attended the property battle for my old collection. It was hard to see him on the other side, but he was cordial, and I knew he was still a friend. Time passed, and I spent time with him at The Carl Wilson Walk in 2002, and he again reconnected me with the music we both cared about. It probably healed me more than he ever knew.
These last few years, he would email me these wonderful tracks of portions of familiar songs broken down as only he could do. I have a file of over 500 of them cached and treasure them. We backed each other up on Facebook, and he always welcomed me back after a long hiatus, most recently in 2012, when I flamed out, exhausted from years of helping broken people put themselves back together. I always thought to myself that Derek was alive, and I was glad we still shared music and the belief that this planet could be a better place.
Then the call came, and like Bob Hanes, another dear friend had checked off this rock too suddenly. But some nights, when I am in need of the healing power of music, I open that file of songs that sent me, and thank God for Derek Bill.
Copyright 2013 by Peter Reum-All rights reserved
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