The Loss of An Unlikely Mentor
This post came up in my “memories” on Facebook from 2014. It’s a reflection on the loss of the college radio station General Manager I worked under at WWVU-FM in the 90's. Even though it’s difficult, we need to try and see the “toughness” from people in our lives as some sort of caring. If not caring, we need to at least man-up and acknowledge when they’ve helped us grow.*
Begin Post from August 25, 2014:
Sitting on the porch having some wine and thinking about Alex Gavula. Rachel Jean Cicci is putting a Spotify mix together of songs listed by his friends.
Alex and I had a stormy relationship with myself playing the part of 19 year old defiant poseur, pushing his buttons by playing Ugly Mustard, Front Line Assembly and Controlled Bleeding as wake up tracks at 7:30 am.
He hated, HATED those bands especially in the morning.
Then there was the discovery of our mutual love of The The. That mellowed things a bit….a lot actually. Then there was the discussion about BladeRunner and the hidden The The shadow.
Later on when I needed to hear it, he quoted that film “The light that burns twice as bright burns half as long.”
I don’t have the most glowing memories of him, I wish I did. What I have are transformative memories. And that’s what I needed.
That was his real strength. He was the person you needed at that moment. Different for every person. I didn’t need a buddy, I needed someone to grab me by the scruff of my neck and yell loudly into my ear “Wake up!”
I didn’t need a buddy, I needed someone to grab me by the scruff of my neck and yell loudly into my ear “Wake up!”
Many years later he came back to WVU and we became friend-ish. I could see the years had started to take their toll on him. He was no longer the 1980’s powersuit, slim Alex. He was the bowling shirt wearing, chubby, “Uncle Alex.”
We went to lunch at Hatfields on more than one occasion. I would stop by his office and talk hockey, music and life whenever I was in the ‘Lair which was more often than not with my job.
He told me he was proud of the way I turned out. I was then able to tell him how I appreciated his guidance, no matter how harsh it seemed at the time. That was that. We continued to have lunches and talk hockey.
Some people have regrets about not telling him what he meant to them. I don’t.
Rest in peace Alex.
* And since I know it’s going to run through at least one person’s mind, I’m not talking about abusive relationships with relatives, spouses, co-workers bosses or anyone else. Abuse and bullying are just plain wrong.
