Well, we lost Barry this last week. For those that don’t know, Barry Leroy Hampton was a source of inspiration and unity for the entire musical and activist communities of Portland, as well as his hometown of Baltimore. For those that were fortunate enough to know Barry—and there were many, many that were, ‘cause the man worked, played and bullshitted non-stop, like no-one else I’ve ever known—we are struck by the shock of it all, and are only now beginning the process of picking up the pieces left broken by his unexpected departure.
There have been a lot of beautiful and heartfelt memorials and tributes in the last week, and they will only increase as more time goes by. On Wednesday, Barry’s friends, family and fellow musicians in Portland tore the roof off the sucka just ‘cause we knew we had to, Barry would have been dissatisfied with anything less. Songs, stories and bittersweet recollections faded deep into the night, finally ending around 4:30am on Thursday morning. Myself and all the other members of Barry’s band, the Triple Grip, played some of Barry’s music, almost as a release, as if to say, “we are not ready to let you go yet but we have no choice, so at the very least we can say goodbye to you with the music that you instilled in all of us, the music that you inspired us with, your music that all of us believed in so completely and so absolutely.”
I am still at a bit of a loss as to what to make of Barry’s death; I have cried many tears over the last few days, as I know I will continue to do for some time to come. Sure, I played bass with the guy, but it went way beyond that. He was my friend, as he was a friend to so many other hundreds of people, and so that is why I miss him now.
Yes Barry, I would have loved to play another song or two with you, but I even more would have loved to sit around and have another drink with you, and talk about nothing in particular. I saw you in a dream the day after you died, a dream where you knew you were going to die, and all of us did also. I went up to you and said, “I’m so, so sad man.”
You smiled, and you said, “Why’s that?”
I love you so much man…wherever you are, I do hope you’re still groovin’…ever funkin’ on B…
Dylan, it took me a long time to read this post from you even though it has been a shortcut on my screen for over 10 months!! it still brings the tears flowing doesnt it, just thinking "man, hes gone"!! im hoping we can get together, his true close friends for that intimate celebration of his life, music and love of people:-) you know brother john's birthday is Feb 2nd and i know he would appreciate getting an early morning text of good wishes!! this is the first time he wont be getting them from his brother. see you all soon, love to you guys:-) sherrin
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