The Gary Flood MidKnight Archive

Dedicated to the life and times of Flood and his peeps


The Compton Handshake

I first met Gary through a guy whose name I dimly remember as Bob. Bob knew I was seeking a drummer for a combo so he took me to Flood's room at Stevenson College (UCSC) and I remember well the handshake: the big warm loose grip - the chillin easy groove hangin with people. I think he said something, with a touch of incredulity, like, "So Bob says you play gui-gui-guitar."

This Document

This odd bod kindoc is a shot of reprise records and recollecting how they come about.

These records'd be left to slowly demagnitize in some

desert garage were it not for the untimely death of drummer, philosopher, sushi chef and all-around swami, Gary Flood.

He was killed in a Soquel crosswalk by a lane-changed, sun-squinted Camry whose nose scooped the shins of a bounding flood and horribly levered his head on its roll bar.

That was 7/18/08. The story in the Santa Cruz Sentinel was badly written, but you can find here still maybe.

If you roll your mouse of the pic at right, you can animate Flood a bit. These pics were taken by Megan Jackson, who was a friend of Gary's and was living with her sister and me at the Walnut Apartments (on Walnut St!). where these pictures occured in 1983? A mermaid she may be. Barabajagal, way down below the ocean.

I'm thinking this may be a slowly evolving body of words in remembrance. If you'd like to add anything, let me know.

Here's the man at a jam at a rehersal spot over in West LA a few months before the Camry.

floodrum

Here's the fateful crosswalk. That's pointing due east, isn't it? And Gary got hit at 6pmish by a Camry that didn't make any noise. So why, did I think the driver was squinting into the sun? It's been more than a year now, so I'm remembering what I think I'd thought then and it doesn't make much sense anymore. If she was heading east then her vision at 6pmish should have been very good!

SoquelDr.

 

Here's a poem about his killing. It needs some reworking...

if wishes were fishes dead men would sleep
under willows on pillows by a river - that's deep
and wished alive dream an imaginary lie
where rain drops stream up for a kiss from the sky

then water withdraws
r e v e l a t i o n
(when you open the refrigerator)
peeps calling
saying what was said - Gary Flood is dead

but it won’t fit it in your head
that
next to the laugh
Hkkhhhkhk hkkhhhkhkh hkhkhkhkhk
and
S k i G A K

 

 

Three Little Bears

Roland Pocket

All Along the Watchtower

This is one that I spent along time watching over in Binghamton and was a standard when I cranked up the twin back at 35 Davis St. Somewhere I have a notebook