Jack Wilson, Frederick Street (HOME PAGE)

Remembrances
    •  Jill Stabenau
    •  Carmen Silva
    •  Jan Houbolt
    •  Mark Freeman
    •  Elizabeth Martin
    •  Suzanne Ecker
    •  Evan Kaltschmidt
    •  Andre Rorsch
    •  Jo-Anne Rosen
    •  Dennis Strong
    •  Lastri Trimiharjo
    •  Rachel Wohl
    •  Amanda Zinn
    •  December 17, 2011
    •  Miscellaneous

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In Jack's Words...

Empowering Women to
Fight Poverty (PPMK)

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Remembering Jack Wilson

The Book of the Dead Glimpsed
in the Valley of Paradise

by Mark Freeman

This is not a eulogy, elegy or ode.
This is not history.
This is not truth.
Only shadows of fading memory.

It was the 70s. We were young.
Drugs
Sex and
Politics
Our rock and roll.

The Iron Fireman
Iconic/ironic
The old yellow plumber’s van
The rusting robot — the fading letters
Joaquin’s calling card.

Joaquin—“Wok” not Jack—was the
Trickster Pan — Joaquin Murietta (Chile born who knew)—
Charming, cajoling, persuading, insisting, inventing, seducing —
Inseminating himself into our lives.

We were “art workers”
Collectively re-inventing the wheel.
Grinding seeds of social justice
Propaganda for the San Quentin Six
A Peoples History was (No) Mystery
Our own Mad River of dreams and destinies.

The center did not hold.
The best minds of our generation
Consumed by madness.

But phoenixlike
Jack
Remade the world
Becoming the change
He wanted to see.

And left this sign
In Valparaiso.

Wok? sign on building in Valparaiso

   

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