Lois Meis and Denver Joe (Courtesy of David Barber, Rock on Colorado .com)
From Barbara Bell on Fb, 5/05/18: I’m still in a state of shock and deep bereavement over the news of Denver Joe’s death. We had a 17-year relationship beginning in 1989, officially ending in 2006. Our relationship had ended many times in between. Always to resume again. It’s difficult to sum up a profoundly deep relationship in an FB post to people you don’t know, but one of the positive sides to social networking is that there can be a shared sense of empathy, affinity and grief in coping with the loss of loved ones. Particularly sometimes if that’s the only outlet you have.
Joe was the love of my life. He was my Beloved. And I was his. He was my secret forbidden heart. Our relationship was difficult as you might imagine any relationship could be with him.
Joe was a “hard ass”, belligerent, angry, bitter, sad, ornery, contrary, antagonistic, and could be downright mean at times in the way he treated others. He was one of those deeply wounded souls lashing out at the world before it lashed out at him anymore. He was raised up hard without much, in mean and uncaring streets. Joe was not a “nice guy”.
In place of these somewhat off-putting characteristics he compensated instead with a surprisingly bigness of heart, especially to those who won his trust, respect & friendship. You know who you are. And if you were lucky to be one of them you felt honored. You were assured of his loyalty and integrity and knew that he had your back. For those who really knew Joe it was quick to see how his attributes outweighed his demerits of congeniality. Joe did not suffer fools gladly or easily. His orneriness was a part of his charm. His sardonic and rapier wit immediately disarmed anyone who thought they might have the better of him. Sometimes his humor was tough and harsh. When he was feeling a bit less guarded and kinder it could be downright hilarious and double one over in stitches. He was funny. He had a great sense of humor and a great sense of the absurd. His sense of the reverent was also as present as his sense of the irreverent, only more protected and saved largely for himself and for those he loved. Though he was mostly known as a “performer” he was a very private man and equally respectful of another’s privacy (Something I’ve shared in common, and so have debated just how much of our story to share with The Cricket Family, which in a very real sense was Joe’s family, but one in which I, along with his son Rio & Rio’s mother Vickie were peripheral).
I only found the inner fortitude to go though his letters, cards, songs and poems last night. Seventeen years worth. Though it was devastating and deeply grievous for me to hear that he had passed on, the realization of just how deeply I hurt him in our final break without ever really letting him know just how much I loved him and cared for him before he died – killed me.
I am left with this magnificent, majestic, incredible experience of our love only torn, broken, & misunderstood by the both of us, by the complications two hearts can manage to self-sabotage and destroy – but destroy only superficially because the love never died. It was just no longer declared. No longer spoken. No longer heard. But, still beating strongly. Wildly. As ever. After so many wounds and heartaches and pains the love cloaked itself. Became invisible. Mute. Dumb. Protecting itself from any more hurt (on my behalf). And so we parted. I found myself walking without looking back despite his reaching out, out of self-protection. This finally, is what I cannot forgive myself. We had a deep and abiding love, but just couldn’t make it work.
Losing a loved one to Death is truly grievous as any of us know. But, losing a loved one without telling them you love them is a hundred times more grievous. I can only hope that in time I will be able to forgive myself, and that maybe he has forgiven me.
Joe was not a nice guy. But, he was a good man. His heart was honest and loving and kind and pure and true. He was Street Royalty. Noble and Regal. A real Blue Blood. And I loved him. I will always love him.
P.S. Sadly I will not be able to attend the memorial gatherings. I would appreciate very much if someone would convey my heartfelt condolences to his son Rio, and his mother Vickie. They know me as “Barbara Jean”. Thank you.
P.S.S. Joe had contacted me as soon as he found out Beth died. They were broken up by the time Joe & I met. He responded towards the news of her death the way he usually responded to things he found disagreeable – with anger. He had told me: “Even on the worst of my days, I’ve always cherished life”. He was to repeat that statement a number of times thereafter (Rest in Peace Beth. Tom Buters. Jeff Mayer. Mark Bell. Jack Thomson aka “Buster”…)
Also, I’m sure there’s a number of Cricket folks that had a special place in Joe’s heart, but I would be doing him a disservice if I didn’t mention Luke Schmalz for whom he clearly had a special warmth & affection. He spoke of Luke as if he was a brother. Baggs Patrick. He always held you in high esteem. “Ellie” Ellen (last name?). He absolutely adored you.
Rest in Peace My Dearest Beloved Denver Joe and please forgive me for not being there. Forever Your Barbara Jean.