And the Wind Cried Mary: an Elegy for Tommy

This essay was published in the Fall issue of Confluence, a national journal for Graduate Liberal Studies. This is a thank you for my paid supporters.

Whenever the song cranked out of the speakers at the old Whole Foods on Shepherd, now a pet food store next to Trader Joe’s, we dropped our blue corn chips, ayurvedic remedies, wakame seaweed, or whatever else, and rushed around aisle corners, running over each other to look for Tommy.  That’s because after the slow initial notes, as the raspy voice attached itself like an ivy to the base line, Tommy would always laugh and move his gangly arms all over the place and at the right time yell along with his hoarse voice: ‘…and the wind whispers MARY!!!…’   It was an almost daily ritual, as the song was heavy in rotation, and many of us joined Tommy, even those working back in storage, who could not see or hear Tommy, but knew he would be singing.  Joyful moments of shared consciousness that brought us glee while working.  In the good days we had so many of those moments, but gradually they stopped as one by one people got sick.  Then Tommy got sick.  Then Tommy died.