Kenneth

We ask that instead of flowers and such that donations be sent to:

Potomac Valley Youth Orchestra (PVYO)
p.o. box 87061
Gaithersburg, MD 20866

God, could anything more possibly go wrong? I spent over an hour typing up a thing about Kenneth on my mom's comp when GayOL asked me if I wanted to stay online. The fucking comp froze and I have to type everything over again... Oh well, now i'm at NIST on the ethernet so I should be good. Anway, this is sort of a follow up to the events of the weekend. I felt that you guys deserved to know how things happened.

When I saw him Saturday night, Ken was just sitting down to watch "Hillary and Jackie". It's a movie about the Dupre sisters. Jackie was Kenneth's favorite cellist. I sat down and watched an hour or so with him. We both were nearly in tears when we saw what that stratavarious had to go through. Ouch... heat and cold not good for wood. Ken also talked a bit about the trouble he had with his recent relationship. I was tired and went to bed before the movie ended.

I woke up the next morning before him. I went downstairs to check my e-mail on the comp. I noticed some files that he had made Saturday morning that lead me to believe there was more than just a little problem coping with the relationship. I told my older brother Kevin(he was the one who acted quick enough to save Kenneth a suicide attempt with pills two years ago) that we needed to keep an eye on Ken. I had made plans to see our sister and nephew that day and asked Kenneth if he wanted to go. He had woken up earlier and started playing his cello. He said yes, grabbed a shower, and we left at about 1:45. When we got to Michelle's house, we were greeted by our nephew with a squirt gun. He was nice and didn't shoot us, so we hung out with him. He took us inside and we played some video games with him. My brother in law Mark tried to put a better spin on Kenneth's sullen mood by telling us about how he had been dumped by a woman he had been engaged to. He listened, but it was obvious that he needed some time alone. As we were leaving, Kyle was giving us hugs good bye. He jumped into Kenneth's arms, Ken flipped him upside down and held him by his knees. Kyle loved it when Kenneth did that. Then he'd grab his hands and have Kyle swing down to the ground. Things seemed to be looking up.

Kenneth had attempted suicide a couple years ago by swallowing a bunch of pills. We got him to the hospital in time and he was ok. He felt dumb for doing it and life moved on. Part of the reason for things getting so bad before was that Ken didn't express himself too well. He kept a lot bottled in. Sunday he was all about expression. You could just hear it in his playing... in some of the conversations we had. He wasn't keeping anything in. We was being very healthy.

We got back to the house around 4:00. Kenneth went straight upstairs and into the arms of Jackie(his cello). He played for the next hour or so. I saw him pop in and out, grab a drink, do laundry... the usual. Then he sat out on the deck for a while. His moment alone. I knew what he was going through and just let him feel the wind on his face. Around 7:00, my parents came home. They had brought a rib bone home for Becky and put her out on the deck to eat it. Ken wanted to be alone, so he came inside. My dad asked him if he was ok and Ken replied, "yeah, I'm fine". Dad gave him a hug and Kenneth went upstairs. At about quarter after, Dad, Charolette, Kevin, and I were in the kitchen getting things set up to install our new oven...

Around 7:30 we heard two loud noises from above. My dad told Kevin to go check on Kenneth. Then my step mom told Dad to go up too. I all of a sudden thought that he might have tried to hang himself. My dad and I ran past Kevin and got to Ken's door. Dad tried the handle and it was locked. He knocked and called for Kenneth. There was no answer. He told me to break the door down. It gave way easily to my shoulder and a flew into the room. I looked into the closets expecting to see him dangling there or something. If he was, we had a chance. I saw nothing in the closets and panned quickly to my left. I saw a shotgun, a pool of blood, and Kenneth's legs. That's all I needed to send me out screaming. I ran downstairs and called 911 all while my dad was moaning upstairs. Thank god I saw no more than I did, but my poor dad saw everything.

For some reason things are a bit more vivid today. All I've really been able to think about is hearing the crack of a shotgun and my brother's body hitting the floor. We were all in the room directly below him.

Now I don't want any gun spooked assholes saying shit like "guns killed him" or whatever. We grew up in a household with guns. Anyone that's been there knows that not one gun that's accessable fires. They've either had the firing pins or bolts removed. All others are in the safes in the basement. Or so I thought... My dad had a disassembled shotgun in his dresser drawer. Kenneth searched the room and reassembled it. Give credit to the fucker... he's a Gary, always being resourceful, always finding a way.

Also, I don't want anyone to start pointing fingers. Ken hasn't exactly been dealt the greatest hands the past few years and there is no one person or event to blame. It's everything from Hittle questioning his integrity and dedication to the Damascus hockey team to my dad siding with Charolette that one last time. It was his dreams of neuroscience dashed by one semester at Oberlin. It was me not screwing up and everyone comparing him to that. I could go on and on about this, but instead I think I'll leave you guys with one of the many sonnets that Kenneth wrote. After we celebrate his life on Saturday, I'll be making plans for a memorial party up at the lake house ASAP.

A Grown Boy's Wish

        I still remember when I was a boy. 
        Things were not very pleasant for me then. 
        I always had my friends to bring me joy, 
        But I had grown up by the age of ten. 
        My wish, dear wish, to be that boy again. 
        To find the innocence of my old life; 
        Discard the memories of all my pain; 
        Forget my suffering in this lone strife. 
        I'm getting older, and wish to be young. 
        Not young in body so much as in mind. 
        But I continue to suppress my toungue 
        To silence the thoughts I keep of this kind. 
        And as for now, I must continue on. 
        I have grown, and that little boy is gone. 

thanks Keith

Kenneth

Kenneth

I played hockey with Kenneth. I know about all the shit that went down with the Hittle's. When Kenneth had mono, he still woke up every sunday morning and was at Frederick ice rink at 7 am for practice. He couldn't play, but he came anyway to be with his team, to help out however he could. He was a great guy and always nice to everyone. His hockey skills were good, he definately helped our team. Last summer our goalie coach drowned and now this? I was shocked when I found that out. I didn't know what to say. I just want to tell the Gary's that they're in my prayers... and man... I don't ever know what to say, I'm just so suprised. It doesn't seem real, you know? Well I guess I should go. NO ONE KILL THEMSELVES, OKAY?????? IT'S NOT COOL MAN, DON'T DO IT.

Kenneth

Kenneth

Kenneth

Kenneth

A few seasons ago the Orchestra was preparing a VERY long and difficult work, Stowkowski's arrangement of Bach's "Passacaglia and Fugue in c minor". With only a few rehearsals to go, it was becoming clear that the piece was too difficult for the orchestra and the potential for a musical disater was quite real. At the end of one of the final rehearsals I broached the subject of making a huge cut in the piece with the students and sent them home to practice.

Ken immediately came up to me and implored me with the deepest passion and conviction not to cut the piece, but instead to challenge the students to learn it, and not to give up on them. He cited such things as musical integrity, composer's intent and so on, but mostly he was distressed that I was losing faith in the orchestra's abilities.

"We can do it, Mr. Hollin!"

And we did.

I am glad he did that.

Sincerely,
William J. Hollin
Music Director
Potomac Valley Youth Orchestra