By Jordan West
Live photos by Joe Schaeffer
Jack Russell…I’ve had a few days to process this. I’ve been dealing with extremes as far as highs and lows go lately. Fortunately for me, death is something I have always been able to deal with rationally. Writing out my thoughts like this seems to give me peace. When it comes to friends and family, it’s obviously toughest. There have been a lot of my musical heroes that have passed the last few years. When it’s someone you know, like Jack, it’s the most completely empty feeling imaginable. But with him, I was prepared.
He had been in bad health for a while, and recently had announced his retirement from touring. Knowing how much he loved the stage, I knew his time was running out. I text him the day of the announcement, and wished him well, but he didn’t return it. That’s when I knew. He ALWAYS returned my texts and calls. When I would see him, there was always a hug, and a “I love you brother.” That phrase was even more soothing and golden to me than that incredible singing voice of his. He had a wonderful sense of humor, and I could always laugh with him and fuck with him, about things from the past, and he played right along. No fragile “rock star ego” like so many of his peers. He could laugh at himself just like I can.
In this day, when it seems that everyone is on a short leash in terms of laughs, it was comforting to know that, that was never the case with him. Sure, his rock n roll lifestyle back in the day brought him lots of troubles and reputation, but he owned up to it all. Like a man. And that incredible voice of his, stood up to everything that was tossed at it. Many years ago, I remember seeing him get thrown out of a club I was at, way back before I got to know him. He’d had “ten too many” and decided to relieve himself behind the bar, in the ice well. That was it. He was “86’d” and the security carried him out. Minutes later, his bandana slumped over one eye like a pirate, he reappeared on the club’s stage, and even though he could not walk or speak, due to the effects of whatever he had consumed, he propped himself up on the microphone stand and sang the most soulful and precise version of a Led Zeppelin song with the house band I had ever heard. I was amazed. It was incredible! That golden voice of his never failed.
It was way back when David Letterman had a running gag on his show called “Stupid Pet Tricks.” Well, my friends and I decided that what we had just witnessed was the human answer to that. Years later, on my online radio show, during an interview with Jack, I retold the story to him. For a while after that, whenever I saw him, he would refer to himself and his past exploits as “The stupid human trick.” No denials. No embarrassment. Just laughs and coming to grips with his past over- indulging. Again, a stand-up guy, unlike that night at the club, way back when. I never forgot that.
After he left Great White the first time, he invited me to see him perform songs from his solo record For You at the Key Club in Hollywood. The songs were much different than the GW material. Lots of love songs of forgiveness and tributes. I was impressed with not only the direction that he had taken, but also the fact that he looked so healthy and happy. He was in a much better condition, physically and mentally, than I had seen him before, in the years of excess. I told him how I felt and it meant a lot to him. He had also moved to the California desert, and I didn’t see him for a while after that.
Apparently, old habits arose, and as he rejoined and left Great White, and started his own band, his demons returned. Then, in early 2003, his worst nightmare occurred: The Station nightclub tragedy, and 100 lost lives, including two of our mutual friends, all of whom were such fans of his incredible talent. It was the worst possible incident imaginable. I shudder to this day when it is even mentioned, thinking about what horrors happened on that fateful evening. I know people who survived, such as Jack, and they will never be the same. Imagine how Jack felt? This is something that you just don’t “get over.”
I cannot even to begin to fathom the amount of heartache he endured and kept the rest of his life. I’m sure that at least, part of him felt responsible, even though he was not at fault, and proven so. My heart bled for him, as well as the victims and their families. I wanted to reach out to him and tell him that he could talk about it and I would be glad to listen, but it wasn’t the right time. It took years, and even then, when we are able to address it, it was only briefly mentioned. I didn’t see him for a while, and when I did, I almost didn’t recognize him. His body was falling apart. Years of excess had finally caught up to him. He looked like he had been broken in half.
I watched an interview that I did with him in 2012 for VintageRock.com and it was shocking to see him in that condition. He was literally yellow in color. But, as always, he was honest, and able to laugh with me, and best of all, that beautiful voice of his did not fail him, unlike the rest of his body. He would go on to record new songs with his own band as well as collaborate with others, and his vocals, both live and on recordings, sounded great. He was on the road playing shows for his fans constantly for the next number of years. I went to a few of them and was blown away by the way he could sing so beautifully in spite of his physical obstacles.
He lived on his boat by this time and he loved it. Stories were told about his love of waking up on the calming waters, and incredible days of fishing in the Pacific Ocean. He was in heaven. He invited me to join him on that boat many times, and I unfortunately declined, as I suffer from lack of “sea legs” and was afraid of spending the time “chumming the water” as opposed to enjoying a voyage with “Captain Jack.” Knowing Jack, he would have had a lot of fun with that. Probably would have taken a lot of photos of me turning green, and we certainly would have laughed a lot about it later.
I am very fortunate, as a member of the media, to be able to get to know so many outstanding musical people such as Jack. I know I have done my job well over the years by the praise that people such as Jack have given me.
My first writing assignment for KNAC.com was reviewing a Great White show in Anaheim, enjoying seeing and writing about Jack at what he did best, along with my friend, the late Ty Longley, who played guitar for Jack and Great White. Ty and I were friends right up to when he sadly perished in the Station fire.
I don’t know how I feel about an afterlife, but it certainly would be cool to imagine Jack and Ty jamming together again, perhaps with Jimi Hendrix and John Bonham. He always liked a good jam. For Jack’s family, friends, bandmates, and for his legions of fans, I offer my condolences. Know how much I and everyone that knew him will miss him and his angelic voice and spirit. I love you brother, peace be with you. Rock me…
