Friends gathered on Monday, January 18, 2010 to remember Jasper “Jazz” McGrath.
“Someone special has left this town and this community,” Father Seamus Walsh said Monday, January 18, 2010 at a candlelight service in memory of Jasper “Jazz” McGrath, whose body was recovered from an avalanche near Vail, Colorado Thursday, January 14. He had been living with his brother Joe in Colorado and went missing January 6. “This is very sad,” Father Seamus said.
The service at St. John’s Catholic Church in Grand Marais was held on what would otherwise have been Jazz’s 20th birthday. Father Seamus invited people to come to the front and pay tribute to Jazz or sign his snowboard, across which “Avalanche” – the brand name— was printed in large letters.
Following are some of the thoughts shared at the service, mostly by young people.
People talked about Jazz’s friendliness and spontaneity, about times spent with him in their homes, at his house, downtown. One person described him as a “couch surfer” who frequently stayed overnight with friends.
Jazz made a deep impression on everyone, one young man said. “He was magnetic.”
To know Jazz was to be friends with him. Many talked about how Jazz would get to know everyone with whom he came into contact.
“He was one of those people you could talk to and become friends with fast.”
“He was a really happy guy who could make anyone’s day.”
“He would always make you smile if you were down.”
“Jazz didn’t really have to know you to love you. He just loved you.” This young woman said Jazz always made her feel special. “He did that to everybody.”
Times with Jaz were “really memorable,” one person said.
Jazz never intentionally did anything to make people mad or hurt their feelings, someone else said.
One young woman said Jazz had helped her through a very rough period in her life. He helped her realize that every day is beautiful in its own way.
“He changed so many people’s lives for the better.”
One young man talked about helping Jazz build a fire on the beach, after which Jazz called him “Cave Man Adam,” a nickname he treasures.
People described the things Jazz loved – snowboarding, music, Hacky Sack, mountain biking, jumping over things, deep conversations, Trivial Pursuit at Sven & Ole’s, Yahtzee and video games, jumping off the lighthouse. “He loved the lighthouse,” one person said. “It was his place.” When he was there, nothing else mattered, she said.
“He was … one of the first people who got me to jump off the lighthouse.”
“He didn’t think before he did anything – ever. That’s what we all loved him for.”
“He was always living life the best he could.”
One young man said once he and Jazz were driving around in the country when he realized he only had a quarter of a tank of gas left. He started to panic and realized his cell phone didn’t work there, either. Jazz urged him not to “freak out” and finally said, well as long as we’re here, let’s just go hiking. They hiked to the top of a mountain, where they found cell phone coverage. “He was spontaneous in every aspect of the word, but he was also a really great friend,” Jazz’s friend said.
Another friend said he once hitchhiked to the Twin Cities and back with Jazz. He knew it was dangerous but felt safe anyway. “Jazz was always there,” he said. “I consider him a brother.”
One girl who described herself as deathly afraid of clowns said she once left her desk at school and came back to a notebook page filled with clown caricatures. She looked over at Jazz, she said, who had a big smile on his face.
One woman who worked with Jazz at Johnson’s Foods said she used to prod him to bag groceries or stock shelves. “You couldn’t get mad at him,” she said. “He always had a huge smile, sparkling eyes, and floppy hair.” Everyone who knew him was really lucky, she said.
“All those great memories are going to live forever,” someone said.
Yvonne Block sang a song she had written about Jazz. “Never forgotten,” she sang.
He will be missed by everyone who knew him, said one person, whether they knew him well or barely knew him.
Everyone should try to live the way Jazz did, someone else said.
One youth said as if to Jazz, “You still have a voice. You can still tell us things, show us things.”
“I just hope I get to see him again one day real soon – well, maybe not real
soon.”
At the end of the service, Father Seamus implored the young people to embrace life as Jazz had done but to do it safely.
Jazz’s brother Joe spoke. “I’m really glad you…came and shared your stories,” he said. “I’m glad he died doing what he loved – [snowboarding] – and he really loved it. Thekid really did do what he loved.”
On Sunday, January 17, Jazz’s friends went snowboarding at Lutsen Mountains in his honor, believing that’s what he would want them to do.
Father Seamus said Jazz reminds him of Icarus, a character from Greek mythology who loved adventure and died trying to fly too near the sun. He told the story of Lazarus, brought back to life by Jesus. “Death does not have the last word,” Father Seamus said. “Love is stronger than death. God rest him now. May he be with God forever.”
What is the lesson for those of us left behind? Perhaps it is to love the people around us, because we never know how long we will have them, and to know that we, too, are loved. We can learn this from a man who lived more in 20 years than many of us will live in 80.
“When we see him again,” one friend said, “he’ll probably be at the top of a tree saying, ‘What took you so long?’”
Jazz’s parents are Tim and
Gail McGrath of Grand Marais.
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