Songster Jim Croce. Most of his songs personified the carefree lifestyle that characterized my generation. It was a shock to discover we were mortal.
Every time I saw “Then Came Bronson” on TV with it’s theme song, “Long, Lonesome Highway” (from Hendrix) I thought of Jim.
One day he was here carrying his name like his daddy did, moving him down the highway, and then there went Bronson.
After that we were dropping like flies.
Also the race car driver Mark Donohue. I’d seen him at the local race track just before he retired, and the precision of his driving was unbelievable. At that time, they were doing a “Race of Champions” with identical Porsche Carrerras, 2 heats, and in the second heat the winner took the slowest car from Heat #1, and so on. Mark led every lap of both heats.
Then he got killed in a crash testing tires…
Not too many professional athletes listed here.
I am big fan of golf, and when Payne Stewart perished in a airplane about 11 years ago, I was taken aback. He had just won one of the biggest tournaments of the year (US Open) and was near the end of pretty nice career.
Stevie Ray Vaughn was the first one that hit me hard. It’s made worse because I gave up my tickets to his last concert to go on a date with some girl who’s name I don’t even remember.
Darryl Kile’s death hit me hard as well. Totally and completely unexpected. When Joe Girardi announced the game was canceled due to a tragedy in the Cardinal’s family I went numb, and then the local Fox affiliate broke in with the news. After the numbness wore off I was pissed! The news took some time to get out because no one wanted to announce it until they found Kile’s wife–she wasn’t at the park and they didn’t want her to hear the news through the media. Then the local station goes and leaks it. Luckily one of the Cardinal’s wives told her before the media really got a hold of it.
I drove to St. Louis from Chicago for the memorial service then drove back to Chicago the same day. I still have my “DK 57” pin and get a little said when I see the “DK 57” sign in the home bullpen at Busch Stadium.
The author Patrick O’Brian, because it meant no more Aubery/Maturin books which selfishly caused me a lot of pain.