Paulie Anderson
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Let's Talk About Suicide

12/20/2011

19 Comments

 
Picture
Jon-o-thin Wheby high above Skull Creek overlooking his property
_ I am bothered by the fact that news organizations refuse to print anything about suicide, so I would like to give some space, and some of my life for that matter, to the topic. The purpose of this blog entry is to help me formalize a plan to create an arts endowment, or a trust of some kind for suicide prevention. But first, an explanation.

This past March, on of my closest friends, Jonathan Wheby, took his own life. The effect he had on me and many of his friends in life was so deep that my wife, Courtney, and I considered him to be blood. Family. As did many of his friends. He shared his love, learning, emotions and angst with all of us in a way that made the people close to him acutely aware of their own need to grow. His constant questioning of societal standards gave him an ability to justify breaking rules while holding others accountable to what he believed to be an acceptable standard.

And now, in death, his influence on my life is still as strong, or perhaps even stronger than it was when he was a part of my living family. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about Wheby; where he is, what he did or why he did it.

The following paragraphs are a eulogy of sorts that I wrote for the celebration of Jonathan’s life that his custom built family held for him last March. I have deemed the “thank you for coming” part unnecessary, and therefore omitted the opening paragraphs. Skip the eulogy if you just want to find out what my hopes are for the trust.

Celebration of the Life of Jonathan Wheby

Jonathan left us all with a palpable amount of uncertainty. We are all questioning why he would leave us as he did, and whether or not there was anything we could do to help. Whenever anyone we love leaves this world, we want to hold ourselves responsible for not saying the right thing at the right time; not doing enough to help; not diagnosing a problem correctly or quickly enough or a host of other feelings we wish we could have projected or communicated to that person.  And when a friend, a friend with so much love as Jonathan, makes a conscious decision to depart from the physical world, these feelings are even stronger.

I address this foremost today because we all need to share our love together and know in our hearts that though Jonathan believed he was no longer necessary in our lives, we all did all we could to let him know that we loved him, needed him and wanted him in our worlds. We are human in our selfish need for answers to the question why, and our strange need for closure, though we can become selfless in sharing this need with each other, and combining our intellectual power to overcome these feelings of guilt. It is love that makes us human, and misguided love that drove Jonathan to his belief that he was a burden instead of a blessing.

Wheby truly was a blessing. As infuriating as he could be in his stubbornness, no person here can say that he didn’t do more with his huge smile as he would defiantly bounce forward and push the big, red INDEPENDENT THINKING button repeatedly than anyone who followed the rules with a blank stare.

Wheby, in fact, had such a unique way of working, loving and sharing, that the name Wheby became a verb with a more than a few definitions.

To Wheby while building something meant to overbuild it to the point that it either had to be totally destroyed to be rebuilt, or the plan completely altered to accommodate the Whebyed design. The Wheby Construction plan was to measure once, cut twice, begin swearing, buy a new piece of wood, measure again, cut again, smile, swear some more, glue it, nail it, then screw it together. Repeat until bomb-proof.

To Wheby in love, meant something different to each one of us. Sometimes To Wheby love hurt so much that forgiveness seemed unobtainable. Yet, somehow he would Wheby his way back into the broken heart using the glue, nail, screw method to leave a permanent scar, but mended beautifully. To me, Wheby Love meant that I never had to ask for help, never had to ask for understanding and never had to wonder, until now, if he would be there. In fact, many of us know that when Wheby adopted you as family, knocking on the door or ringing the doorbell became unnecessary. And why should he knock, he was a part of the family, right?

The negative definition of To Wheby is the one that even Jonathan had to use more than once, and one that endured him to our hearts through proof of his human faults.  He understood it as we all understand it. His cabin in the desert was the perfect example of Whebying something the wrong way. It stands today as a thing of beauty. Glued, screwed and nailed to perfection… 50 feet off the wrong side of the property line. To Wheby was to do something so well, so beautifully, so lasting and so… 50 feet off, that even he couldn’t help but laugh at the Whebyness of it.

 

The Idea

 

The last paragraph of the eulogy is the beginning of the plan for my idea. This is still in the planning stages, and there is plenty of room to alter or enhance the plan, so please respond if you have ideas or wish to help.

A little background in necessary first. Wheby purchased just under 50 acres in the desert outside Masadona, Colorado in the early 2000s. The land is in a valley called Skull Creek and lies about 20 miles east of Dinosaur National Monument. He constructed a cabin (on his neighbor’s property) as a sanctuary for him and his friends. He intended it as a communal cabin for inspiration, health, exploration and a getaway from the daily grind. One of the driving forces behind Wheby’s suicide was that he constructed his getaway on someone else’s property; someone who became unwilling to work with him in correcting this problem. He lost his sanctuary shortly after losing much more than he had been willing to lose. That is another story altogether, and I will write that story in book form in the very near future.

Before Wheby walked off into the desert to take his own life, he signed his property over to me. I have been trying to come up with a way to honor Wheby through this gift ever since Courtney and I received the quit claim deed in the mail last March. A plan has surfaced this week and now the process of making it a reality begins.

I would like to create an artist retreat in Wheby’s name on Wheby’s property that benefits suicide prevention and the families and friends who have lost loved ones to suicide. I would then like to put this land and structure in a trust for future generations to enjoy.

I choose to believe that Wheby left me the land because he knew I would fulfill his vision of a community asset, and I believe this to be the very best way to provide a testament to Jonathan’s love of art and life. And he did have a zest for life that was ever apparent to all whose lives he touched, and this is just one of the things that makes suicide so unpredictable and painful to those of us who have either attempted, thought seriously about, or survived someone who followed through with the act.

Please enjoy this poem, The Spiral, which Jonathan loved, and even quoted in his suicide note. I wrote it in a time when I was feeling a little suicidal but had a great group of friends and family to help me through the rough spots.

19 Comments
LA link
12/20/2011 02:50:29 am

Beautiful testimonial and what a wonderful legacy to leave.

Reply
Art Goodtimes link
12/20/2011 03:17:24 am

paulie, beautiful piece about your friend, and a lovely idea to turn it into the kind of sanctuary jonathan would have appreciated... blessings, art goodtimes

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david
12/20/2011 09:43:56 am

good ideas. im ready to get building once plans arise. thanks

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Anita Hartley
12/20/2011 11:31:23 am

Your vision is wonderful! Never a better, more beautiful place to inspire and remind people that the world is beautiful. and life can be as well, although sometimes we forget. best wishes! The Dinosaur area is one of my favorite places, and be sure i would love to come visit! ~Anita

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David Eiland
12/21/2011 04:21:29 am

Damn, Paulie. Your words were heavy at JW's memorial, and I have to say, they carry the same power and weight today. You know I will help in any way I can with this idea. You and I have discussed rough ideas in the past, but I like what has emerged. Thanks for sharing....

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Alexis Eiland
12/21/2011 06:38:24 am

Wonderful Idea- I am here to help.

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Sam McNish
12/27/2011 12:20:29 pm

Hey Paulie, loved reading your thoughts...I'll help in any way with your Idea. Labor...landscape design...etc.

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Chula
12/28/2011 12:13:44 pm

Paulie, you are an inspiration of strength and tenderness. I have some art to hang in the retreat, and I look forward to hearing more plans!

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Jeff Oden
1/12/2012 05:16:40 am

Love it, Paulie! I've got tools, a truck, far more unpaid time than I'd prefer, and a nagging itch for the desert...USE ME...word.

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Shannon Casson
2/22/2012 08:21:59 am

Paulie - saw Courtney the other month at Rocky Mtn Day Spa and she mentioned your idea - love it of course and Jon and I would be more than willing to help in any ways we can. Your way with words is unique, powerful and sincere. But I still miss Wheby!

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Olivia Ahnemann
3/8/2012 04:25:31 am

Beautiful essay Paulie and I love the idea you have for the Skull Creek property.

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Gaylan Hellyer
3/27/2012 06:17:54 am

What an inspiring idea. Sounds wonderful.

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Ben Stroock
7/2/2012 02:38:12 pm

I am in! Wheby's love should never die!! Please let me know what plans develop. I miss you Jonathan & thank you Paulie!

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Steve Tester
8/5/2012 01:26:36 pm

I was shocked to hear that Wheby had taken his life. I knew him in pace corps as a fun filled and very happy individual. Like you, I often wonder why he did it. I would be happy to offer what assistance I could.

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Paulie
8/7/2012 02:17:44 am

Thank you, Steve. I'll keep you in the loop if we can move forward with this. There is quite a bit of resistance due to the location and name of the area, so I'm still crossing my fingers that it will come together.

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Nick Axtell
4/28/2015 09:23:43 pm

He was my friend too, when we lived together as students in France over 20 years ago. I recognize your description, wish I'd maintained closer contact and mourn his loss. If you can keep his name & spirit alive then so much the better for all of us..

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Rebecca
10/6/2019 10:36:00 pm

Hello Paulie, and thank you for your compassionate tribute to Jonathan. I met him when traveling through Ghana with some friends in 1997 ( I was a Peace Corps Volunteer in Guinea), and we shared some good times for a few days. I was looking back through my photos from Peace Corps days and wondered what had become of him. How tragic an end. If you are interested in these couple of photos of Jonathan, I would be happy to send them, just let me know. I also have felt suicidal often in the years since Peace Corps...I wonder how much it has to do with my messed up gut bacteria. It is known now that the gut microbiome has a huge impact on mood, and Peace Corps volunteers' guts were sure fucked with all the giardia, amoebas, other parasites, and the loads of Flagyl and antibiotics in our personal medical kits that we could take whenever we wanted. I wonder if that affected Jonathan as well. We will never know. Anyway, thank you for being his friend and honoring his memory and for talking about such a challenging topic as suicide.

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kt
3/1/2020 08:55:11 pm

Thank you for this thoughtful insight into Wheby's life and spirit. All these years later it is hard to know his light is not here with us.

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Kathryn B.
4/10/2021 10:31:16 pm

I was a close friend of wheby's in the peace corps..a clear memory of his 'mansion', at his sight, on a full moon night. No electricity. We sat on a second storey balcony and watched the crazy activity in his village in the moon light. I knew about his suicide and it has banged around in my consciousness, popping up again and again, never finding peace. Happened so stongly yesterday that i googled him and found your beautiful words. Are you still here? How about your idea for the artist retreat? And finally, has he ever been found? Seeing his smile as i write this....

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    Paulie Anderson

    Yes, it's time I continue what began way back in 2001 when Scott Glackman and I started Steamboat Springs' alternative paper, The Local. I miss writing my fortnightly column after selling the paper, so I'll continue to write it and print it right here.

    These are my opinions, rants, raves and ideas. If you don't like them, read them anyway and get pissed off. That's why I read Ann Coulter. Did I really just admit that?

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