By America Meredith
Mercury Rising #11, August 1995
The last time I saw my brother before his fatal accident, he was ridingdown 2nd Street. He had just built a new Bridgestone. He was taking upbanjo and talking about his plan to buy land in Northern California. Hewas very much alive.
On Tuesday, the 27th of September, 1994 around 4pm, a speeding Munibus overtook Thomas at 2nd and Market and dragged him several meters. Hetook all impact of the accident to his brain - it swelled and could notbe operated on. His friend Mikey Mitchell was with him under that bus,as Thomas slipped into a coma.
At SF General about twenty of us were in and out. Thomas was in a comafor four hours and then died at 8pm. If it weren't for our mutual friendslending their support, I wouldn't have made it.
The next day, messengers blocked Montgomery Street and 15 people werearrested. For weeks flowers were laid at the accident site. Thomas’ deathwas all over the news most of the information was distorted or concocted.About 150 people showed up at the wake at South Park; which continued toMission Rock in messenger tradition, where my mother and I threw a bikebasket filled with flowers into the bay. Maria Barry and the Prez led acandlelight ceremony and sang, Will the Circle Be Unbroken. Critical Masswas dedicated to his memory and had 1,200 participants.
In Oklahoma at the memorial service, our bishop played Robert Johnson'sCome Into My Kitchen, reflecting Thomas' love of the delta blues. His bodywas buried in Chelsea, OK, among six generations of our family.
Not long afterward my feather, a professor of logic and Native Americanstudies, had a day vision. My brother appeared to him, bathed in light.Thomas comforted my father and assured him that all was as is meant tobe.
In his short life, Thomas went through many struggles and transformations.He was born Thomas Marshall Rogers Meredith in Owensboro, KY on 17 December,1967. We always bought our Christmas trees on his birthday. My first memoryof him is on Christmas, when he was six and I was two. We both had chickenpox and he was dressed up like Batman.
Thomas grew up in Manhattan, NYC and Oklahoma. He was always incrediblyintelligent, a trait he tried to cover up with a thick Okie accent. Asa kid he wanted to be an oceanographer, play war games, draw heraldry.We used to fight each other with Japanese practice swords, take horse ridinglessons, terrorize our little sister Lee, play Dungeons and Dragons, acolyteat church, and later steal each other’s hard core albums.
Thomas graduated from Kemper Military Academy in Missouri. He playedbaritone and coronet for band company and had the highest grades of hisclass.
He messengered several different times in several different places.Back in the 80’s, he had a metallic blue double mohawk, carried an axein his Zo bag, camped under Golden Gate Bridge and then lived in a schoolbus on 3rd Street. In Washington, D.C., he worked at Pronto and had thenickname MC 900 Foot Jesus, for his characteristic sandals and beard. Whenhe came back to SF, he became the first guy ever to work at Lickety SplitDelivery.
Tai Chi was a lifelong inspiration. He first took lessons in third grade,then in Austin where he said it saved his life, and finally under SifuFong Ha. He taught me how do chi gung as a means of reviving oneself whenpassing out at parties.
As children we were all exposed to our own Native American spiritualtraditions through stomp dances and ceremonials. Living in Austin, Thomasbegan incorporating traditions into his daily life. Every morning he wouldwake at dawn, face the sun rising in the east, make a tobacco offeringto the four directions and give thanks for the new day. He would go outto the woods and play his wooden flute and animals would creep closer tohear him.
Thomas assisted Charles Van Tuyle in writing a book on the Cherokeeverb in the attempt to revitalize our language. He met and hung out withChief Skyhawk of the Natchez Cherokee, whom Thomas said he could relateto better than any other person.
When Paul Littell died working For SFDS, they had been room mates atMoss Street. They used to jam together back in Norman. They were both workingon an all-comic issue of "Mercury Rising." Thomas just acceptedPaul’s death, saying he had accomplished all he needed to do in this life.When he played guitar, Thomas said he could sense Paul there helping him.
Paul’s death helped me prepare for Thomas' death. Just before the accidentThomas was trying to get his life together so he could move on from messengering.He had premonitions that being a messenger would kill him. And he saidmany times he never wanted to work at SFDS, blaming them for Paul’s death.Thomas didn't want to die; witness testimonies describe how he strugglednot to get crushed by the bus.
Everything happens for a reason. Thomas is now dealing with realityin a much more profound and immediate way than possible in our realm. Thehardest thing to do for those of us left behind is: let go. Take the loveand respect you had for those that pass on and offer it to the people stillwith you. As much as we may glorify the messenger world, for many of uspoverty, depression, chemical abuse, and homelessness are real threatsto our survival, without even worrying about traffic. All we really haveis our own inner strength and each other.
Again, if it hadn't been for all of our mutual friends helping me out,I wouldn't have made it. Thank you, everyone who offered rides, informationabout witnesses, half-tones, prayers, and words of support. Especiallythe people who told me what it was like to lose their own brother or sisteror child.
I'm not going to be a hypocrite and tell anyone to be careful. Takingrisks is inherent to all of our natures or we wouldn't be riding a bikein the first place. I don't want to live forever and I don't know anyonewho does. Instead, what I have learned is to give thanks for every daythat I do live to appreciate every opportunity I have and the people inmy life. Thomas taught me a lot throughout my life. It was a privilegeto have known him and an honor to share what I’ve learned from him.
With gladness
in my heart,
America Meredith
clickhere for a list of messenger zines
If you have comments or suggestions, email me at messvilleto@yahoo.com