It's now been over 25 years since Caroline Saunders passed from this Earth. I've loved others since then and there have been more who have passed on since then.. .In other words life moves forward.
I found myself listening to for the first time in a long time the music of (Reggae Artist) Judy Mowatt and for a moment it all came flooding back.. Some people make a profound impact on one's life even if they are in ones life for a short period of time. Caroline Saunders was one of those people.
It was one short year beginning at what was then called Five Corners Saloon on the West Bank of Minneapolis. The local reggae band Les Exodus was playing. We hit it off immediately.
At the time of our meeting I was a worker-owner-manager at the New Riverside Cafe,a vegetarian restaurant known on the West Bank as the Biomagnetic Center of the Universe. She worked at the Minneapolis Sexual Violence Center. We both were leading active lives,but she in particular. Prior to her work at SVC,she had spent a year in England running a Bed and Breakfast.Before that she had spent time in Africa.
Our first meeting was an all night meeting,but it was agreed at that time that this would be a "see you when I see you" type relationship..no strings attached. We proceeded that way,sometimes meeting for coffee at the Riv or going out to dinner but then sometimes go days without speaking to each other.These are pre cellphones,pre internet days mind you.
One night,I learned that there would be reggae music being played at the Red Sea Bar on the West Bank,naturally I called Caroline..no answer One reason the New Riv was called the Biomagnetic Center of the Universe was that it was a social hub on the West Bank. One never knew who might walk in at any given time. Another female friend of mine with no plans for the evening dropped in.We then made plans to go to the Red Sea together. I had no sooner than paid the cover charge and was looking for a table,when I spotted Caroline..with another man! Our tables were within eyeshot of each others. Pleasant introductions were made at the beginning of the night. Throughout the night,I did notice Caroline looking back at my table..that's because at different times,I was looking at her table. When my friend and I got up to dance,guess who ended up dancing next to us? Caroline visited my table,I visited Caroline's table. While we left the Red Sea with the people we came with,Caroline and I realized then perhaps we had strings afterall..
I shouldn't have been surprised given her travels,but nonetheless I was surprised that Caroline,living in the affluent Twin Cities suburb of Edina would feel comfortable hanging out in the Holtztermann Building on the West Bank.. For those unfamiliar with West Bank history,the Holtzermann was a early 1900's department store converted into apartments. Most were actually rooms with a few one bedrooms sprinkled in. Bathrooms were shared as well as kitchen space. I lived in one of the few rooms that didn't have a roach problem. Its occupants were an assortment of Riv and Hard Times Cafe workers,hippies, musicians,U of M students,junkies and alcoholics. I was making the best out of a life I felt I had due to various choices thrown away on the junkheap.
I had been wrestling with a 7 year writers block but was beginning to come out of it thanks to a writers workshop at the Playwrights Center I had gotten connected with.2 things were coming out of my pen. The first was a play called Malcolm X Meet Peter Tosh. I didn't know what the other piece was except that it was a story,it was autobiographical,it dealt with issues of race,recalled a certain era as well as a near marijuana bust at the Canadian Border during a roadtrip. The play was due for a reading at the Playwrights Center. Up until this one particular evening,the only other person who had read any of my writing was my Riv Coworker Mitch Olson. Mitch and Caroline were my audience when I read the roadtrip story. Mitch kept me from throwing my play into the garbage. Caroline,who at different times smiled laughed and cried as I read shared words with me that made me think perhaps there was life past the junkheap. I hadn't had many folks as cheerleaders or believers in my abilities in life. Someone actually encouraging me to believe in myself. Caroline,upon learning I was a baseball fan,introduced me to her Dad,a diehard Baltimore Orioles fan.
Judy Mowatt was performing at another West Bank Bar,the Cabooze. I hadn't heard from Caroline in a few days,and besides I often attended shows alone. I was towards the front of the Cabooze stage when Judy Mowatt entered. Soon after the show began,someone from behind put their arms around me. I turned around,,it was Caroline. In social settings and at reggae shows where we both knew a lot of people,it was common for us to be social butterflies. This particular show however neither of us moved from our spot. In between one of the songs,Caroline said to me "Lets do an East Coast roadtrip to Vermont,Connecticut where I could meet yout Dad and New York!" I always admired Caroline's sense of adventure and willingness to live fully. I hadn't had that for myself since my Alaska days. I said yes. We had to go separate ways at the end of the show.
A week later she was gone..struck by a bus driver,later to be discovered to be under the influence of alcohol while riding her bike on the Nicollet Mall.
Later I ended up working across the street from the corner where Caroline was struck down at the Barnes & Noble Bookstore on Nicollet Mall. I viewed going to work there everyday as reclaiming that space,but when August would pass,I'd find myself melancholy.
I hope she knows I'm still writing and sharing.
