Olsen (Joe) Ross at Joe Bar c. 1987
Friends are people you can be yourself with. Really. You don’t go home at night and worry if you misstepped, if somehow you were misunderstood.
You can talk about anything with friends.
They trust you to mean well.
They trust you and you trust them.
There are never words but here are a sad few.
…
Years ago, I met you and Tracie.
Tracie and Olsen at Birmingham Art and Frame c. 1987
We sat in classes together with the great dame Edith Frohock. We were electrons buzzing in orbit to the same artworld. I envied your coolness, your lack of fear. I went to your shows – "The Flood and Mystic Chamber Salons" – it was the best, most fun, most magic art. A thousand art magazines and edgy critics missed out on the wonder of the FMC salons.
There was Joe Bar – you worked at Joe bar when you were still Joe. You were debonair – funny and charming. Everyone I knew went to Joe Bar and they went there because of you.
In the late ‘90s we both (and Raymond too) went to graduate school. You and I commuted together on the drive between Birmingham and Tuscaloosa. You commiserated with my frustrations. You schooled me on banjo music. We talked about art and youth and KISS and Superman and music music music. Hours and hours in cars together, hours and hours in the studio together. Lima beans with spaghetti – the best you assured me.
I never once heard you say a mean thing. Not once.
It was easy to be your friend. The last few years (except very occasionally when I made my way back to Alabama) we tagged back and forth online. I was a voyeur to your and Tracie’s beautiful life, beautiful daughters, beautiful home, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful …
I always meant to come home, ... at least for a while and spend time with you and the wonderful others.
The universe makes choices I cannot fathom. I’ve got to read the comments from your students marking your leaving. They and all of us who knew you were so lucky. You touched so many lives and always made them better.
There are never words.
