Re: [642] Accident in China
Slim. . . what can really be said of Slim that everyone else doesn't already feel in their own heart?
He made me laugh so hard, so many times. He jumped every object in Portland long before I ever held a BASE rig in my hand. He was the only person of whom I ever saw Dwain in abject awe when it came to playing the BASE game "hard." He freefell the St. John's under a Mojo, a bunch of times, before he figured out it was 20 feet lower than he thought which, as Dwain would say, "explained a bit the extremely short canopy rides and crashing landings."
Video of Slim arcing off Crown, Slim's triple gainers from it, Slim's slider-up there (which even Dwain thought genuinely psycho), Slim's slider-up PCA from the bridge in WA. Slim's shadow over every dodgy object in Portland. . . I knew I was getting somewhere when I started opening objects that even Slim tought were too dodgy to jump. Slim, Dwain's comrade in arms long before I ever met either of them. Slim, a legend in my mind from all the stories told, who when I met him turned out to be the kindest and most genuine of sorts.
I watched Slim crawl back from a life-ending accident, helped him over the railing (ok, let's be honest, I lifted him over. . . he weighed less than a bloody pigeon at that point in his recovery) at TF his first trip back. He coached me on arcing backflips that weekend, which I muffed once or twice (scariest aerial mistakes I've ever experienced), before he couldn't resist and there he was tearin' off backs with his fragile body. If I recall correctly, he spun off four that first day before opening low under a roundie. . . all grins, as usual.
Slim, trying to order food at Taco Bell in his Australian English. . . laughing so hard I thought I'd split wide open. "Two kwesadilllllllas. . . "
I'd ask Dwain how Slim was doing, after that, and he'd reply in that conspiratorial voice "oh, he's genuinely fucked, but you know Slim. . . he won't admit it and he's just going on as if he can recover even though he knows he can't." Who was going to tell him otherwise?
Slim asking for advice on the business climate in Oregon. Slim, not the least bit surprised to find that I had an even fancier MBA than he did. . . just positive and energetic and happy to be around folks who were doing good stuff. Slim, telling stories of the politics at the office, the challenges that were always balanced with the sense of accomplishment, the folks there he didn't like so much. . . but always more about the folks he did like, and how he enjoyed to work, all in all.
Slim's bachelor party, Slim's wedding with Douggs in full regalia. Slim dancing, Slim always there when everyone else needed him. Slim warning me to lay off the bandit jumps in Malaysia. . . and Slim laughing right along with me at how amazingly silly that very concept was coming from his mouth. Slim asking "how'd they go, last night" when Tom and I rolled into the morning jumps a few hours late, tired but full of smiles.
Dwain helping to edit Slim's book of BASE history on his laptop while he and I drove all night to some dodgy object. . . reading the chapters out loud, expanding on the stories Slim was telling, pointing out the minor errors but always proud that Slim was willing and able to tell it like it was, as it really happened. Where did Slim's book go? Probably gone now, I mean who really wants to drudge up those old times nowadays. . . better to gloss over the sharp edges, remember "the past" as a Rockwell-esque patina of happy smiley folks who never had a care. Slim didn't buy into that crap, his book was brutally honest about all of us, himself included. Slim was one of the few folks who could tell Dwain when he was simply being a petulant ass and Dwain would listen and shape up. Slim was a leader without ever trying to be, an inspiration too busy with life to notice, and a legend long before he left us behind for good.
Slim, there was nobody else like him. I haven't spoken a word to Slim since Dwain killed himself, but I knew that when the time was right he and I would sit down and sort it all out. He was Slim, see, and he had a way like that. Slim could've told me why everything was ok, why the world was still bright and beautiful, why it all made sense. I was counting on it, counting on Slim, as always.
Nik, Lukas, Dwain, Slim. . . beautiful human beings, gone forever. Dwain said life is for the living. . . that's a much easier thing to say when you are dead, isn't it?
Slim was a giant of a man and the world without his light is a much, much darker place. How much darker can it really get?
Peace,
Z-d0g