"1 : to show that something exists or is true. “His success bears witness to the value of hard work”. ... 2 formal : to make a statement saying that one saw or knows something asked to bear witness to the facts. “She was accused of bearing false witness at the trial."
Between the end of April and May 2020 three men who played an important role in my life died -- my father Nelson Elmer George, my long time friend the record executive Andre Harrell and a man who mentored me from college student to professional scribe, the journalist/record producer Robert 'Rocky' Ford. I tried during that strange and painful month to give some meaning to these loses. That these deaths happened in the middle of a pandemic (which claimed by father's life) and nationwide riots made the search for meaning even more poignant and important. As I walked from Rocky's viewing in late May 2020 the phrase "to bear witness" came into my head and traveled with me as I tried to get my connect my sadness with action. A short walk from the funeral parlor was the 88th precinct which had taken on considerable damage from the police brutality protest the night before. I've read the accounts from around the country and seen video of protestors, police, and provocateurs in a live action all in a contest to control the narrative: Was it a peaceful protest? The necessary maintenance of civil order? Or calculated chaos? In the personal and in the political, in the intimate and public, the need for bearing witness is essential and cleansing. In the clear light of day, after the flames of marching are out, we still have to find sustainable ways to support change while we bury the dead.
It strikes me that a lot of what I’ve posted on Substack are obituaries of friends and artists. It’s a reflection of the fact that I’m in my 60s and so many of the people that I molded me, and the artists that shaped me, are now in their ‘70s and over. The culture they made is slowing ebbing from centerstage. Moreover I see “hot takes” by younger people about them that often seem willfully ignorant or insanely arrogant. So I bare witness. It’s not always a sad process, since the joy they created is essential to why we honor their passing amd their life force, one way or another, continues on as long as they are remembered. Hopefully we will be too.
Those of us old enough to know that history and to have been present as it was unfolding have a sacred obligation to keep speaking/writing/remembering and passing those names and histories forward so that they not be forgotten or distorted. Keep up the good work of bearing witness Nelson, on behalf of the culture and on behalf of our Ancestors.
You are driven to write about your friends and colleagues and that's a good thing...your recollections are an important part of the historical record and it's a good way to reconcile your memories and their legacy.❤️