Dennis "Bo" Hull, 21 years ago last month...
gimmesometruth27
Posts: 23,080
so when i was in middle school and high school i had a great friend named Dennis "Bo" Hull. we played football and baseball together for many years and got to be quite close. i learned a lot from him. i learned how to hit a baseball with power, i learned how to drink whiskey and take tequila shots, and i learned about some of the great heavy metal bands that i had always been scared to get into as a teenager, such as megadeth and slayer. through our friendship his parents and my parents and our families became pretty close.
in the summer of 1992 i was playing on this select baseball team and we traveled all over the country to play in tournaments. Bo was the cleanup hitter and i either hit in the 3 or 5 hole to give him protection in the lineup, since he was our stud hitter.. in late july and very early august 1992 we played in a baseball tournament in apopka, Fl. Bo was supposed to travel with us but he had injured his shoulder the month before and had not been medically cleared to play and was trying to rehab it to be ready for football in mid august, so he did not make the trip. the last thing i ever said to him on the night before i left for florida was "i'll be back in about 6 days and i will call ya when i get back and tell ya how we did." we had planned on going to the batting cages and then meeting our girlfriends at the local lake on the day i got back to hang out on one of our final days of summer before football two a days started and then our social lives would end for the next few months....
we played the tournament and did ok, but eventually lost out and did the 19 hour drive back to st louis. we left florida on aug 3 in the early afternoon and got home on mid morning on august 4.
i got home that morning and something felt really weird in my house. my parents and sister were acting really strange, like they were hiding something. my mom's face was all red and eyes were puffy, like she had been crying. i was unpacking my stuff in my bedroom and my dad came in and said something like "Son, please sit down, there is something that i need to tell you...." he then proceeded to tell me that Bo had died overnight in a car accident on august 3 1992. i was on the road on the way home when it happened, and his parents had called my dad at about 3 am that morning to tell them. i was devastated. he was such a larger than life personality. he was such a great athlete and a great friend. i have no doubt it would have been him to go on and play college baseball instead of me. i remember spending that day making the very sad phone calls and breaking the news to the people that knew and loved him.
later that day a bunch of us went out to the scene of the accident to lay flowers and pay our respects and just grieve together. he was driving a 1990 corvette. the only things left at the scene were shards of black fiberglass, the remnants of the car's body, and some clear and red plastic that were parts of the headlights and brake lights. some of the people took pieces of the car as a sad reminder of who we lost. i did not. i left it all as i found it. i could not bring myself to touch anything at that scene. i will never forget the pieces of black fiberglass embedded in the trunks of the trees that the car had hit, and the painted outline of where the car ended up, and where the engine ended up, and where bo's body ended up. a second person who was in the car also passed away. i did not know who he was, but he was a friend of Bo's that was not in our circle of friends.
i guess the point of this thread is that someone today on facebook posted a picture of the newspaper article that shows a picture of what the car ended up looking like, and it brought back a ton of memories of that time in my life. it made me wonder what i have done to deserve all the time i have had, that i have completely taken for granted, while Bo only got to have 17 years. i find that completely unfair that i have gone on to have some amazing experiences that he never got to have. i have not really kept in touch with his family, because it just got too weird and uncomfortable and i do not know what to say to them. i drive past their house on occasion, but i have not been able to summon the nerve to stop and talk to them. Bo and I did everything together. we worked out together, we went to hitting practice on weekends together, we hung out together. and out of that, his parents and mine got to be pretty close. that all ended when Bo died. i feel really terrible about that. i think it has bothered me this entire 21 years and i never knew it. if not reaching out to his parents makes me a shitty person, i guess i am.
i credit Bo with getting me into temple of the dog and pearl jam. without him, i probably would not have become the fan that i am today because he made me listen to them incessently when we hung out. we used to duet hunger strike when we would party. he would do the cornell parts and i would do the eddie part. we would listen to ten to get ready for games. his favorite tunes were garden and why go. for a long time, every time i heard them i would think of riding in his toyota mr2 with the t-tops out just blasting that shit. that has decreased over the years. the last time i spoke with him he had just seen pearl jam at lollapalooza the week before and he was telling me how awesome they were and how i have to see them the next time they come through town. he was talking about how crazy eddie was for climbing in the rafters of riverport amphitheater and stuff.
had Bo lived, i have no doubt that he would have gone on to do great things. he would have been in tenclub and he would have been an active member of this community and forum. he would have been my tour travel partner. i think telling his story is my way of finally publicly thanking him for his friendship and for getting me into this band, which has been such an integral part of my life.
sorry to ramble, but i just had to get this out there and get it out of my system. i choose to remember Bo how he lived and not how he died. although seeing that article and that picture today made me think of how he died, and how a little part inside of all of us died that day too.. i remember the first time i heard long road and comeback i thought of him. funny how music can remind you of someone else from a long time ago...
i am gonna share the picture that started all of this, but i have to shrink it down and it might be unreadable.
so last time, i just wanted to recognize him and to say publicly here in front of all of these people who might be able to relate....RIP Bo, thanks for everything, and i miss you man.
in the summer of 1992 i was playing on this select baseball team and we traveled all over the country to play in tournaments. Bo was the cleanup hitter and i either hit in the 3 or 5 hole to give him protection in the lineup, since he was our stud hitter.. in late july and very early august 1992 we played in a baseball tournament in apopka, Fl. Bo was supposed to travel with us but he had injured his shoulder the month before and had not been medically cleared to play and was trying to rehab it to be ready for football in mid august, so he did not make the trip. the last thing i ever said to him on the night before i left for florida was "i'll be back in about 6 days and i will call ya when i get back and tell ya how we did." we had planned on going to the batting cages and then meeting our girlfriends at the local lake on the day i got back to hang out on one of our final days of summer before football two a days started and then our social lives would end for the next few months....
we played the tournament and did ok, but eventually lost out and did the 19 hour drive back to st louis. we left florida on aug 3 in the early afternoon and got home on mid morning on august 4.
i got home that morning and something felt really weird in my house. my parents and sister were acting really strange, like they were hiding something. my mom's face was all red and eyes were puffy, like she had been crying. i was unpacking my stuff in my bedroom and my dad came in and said something like "Son, please sit down, there is something that i need to tell you...." he then proceeded to tell me that Bo had died overnight in a car accident on august 3 1992. i was on the road on the way home when it happened, and his parents had called my dad at about 3 am that morning to tell them. i was devastated. he was such a larger than life personality. he was such a great athlete and a great friend. i have no doubt it would have been him to go on and play college baseball instead of me. i remember spending that day making the very sad phone calls and breaking the news to the people that knew and loved him.
later that day a bunch of us went out to the scene of the accident to lay flowers and pay our respects and just grieve together. he was driving a 1990 corvette. the only things left at the scene were shards of black fiberglass, the remnants of the car's body, and some clear and red plastic that were parts of the headlights and brake lights. some of the people took pieces of the car as a sad reminder of who we lost. i did not. i left it all as i found it. i could not bring myself to touch anything at that scene. i will never forget the pieces of black fiberglass embedded in the trunks of the trees that the car had hit, and the painted outline of where the car ended up, and where the engine ended up, and where bo's body ended up. a second person who was in the car also passed away. i did not know who he was, but he was a friend of Bo's that was not in our circle of friends.
i guess the point of this thread is that someone today on facebook posted a picture of the newspaper article that shows a picture of what the car ended up looking like, and it brought back a ton of memories of that time in my life. it made me wonder what i have done to deserve all the time i have had, that i have completely taken for granted, while Bo only got to have 17 years. i find that completely unfair that i have gone on to have some amazing experiences that he never got to have. i have not really kept in touch with his family, because it just got too weird and uncomfortable and i do not know what to say to them. i drive past their house on occasion, but i have not been able to summon the nerve to stop and talk to them. Bo and I did everything together. we worked out together, we went to hitting practice on weekends together, we hung out together. and out of that, his parents and mine got to be pretty close. that all ended when Bo died. i feel really terrible about that. i think it has bothered me this entire 21 years and i never knew it. if not reaching out to his parents makes me a shitty person, i guess i am.
i credit Bo with getting me into temple of the dog and pearl jam. without him, i probably would not have become the fan that i am today because he made me listen to them incessently when we hung out. we used to duet hunger strike when we would party. he would do the cornell parts and i would do the eddie part. we would listen to ten to get ready for games. his favorite tunes were garden and why go. for a long time, every time i heard them i would think of riding in his toyota mr2 with the t-tops out just blasting that shit. that has decreased over the years. the last time i spoke with him he had just seen pearl jam at lollapalooza the week before and he was telling me how awesome they were and how i have to see them the next time they come through town. he was talking about how crazy eddie was for climbing in the rafters of riverport amphitheater and stuff.
had Bo lived, i have no doubt that he would have gone on to do great things. he would have been in tenclub and he would have been an active member of this community and forum. he would have been my tour travel partner. i think telling his story is my way of finally publicly thanking him for his friendship and for getting me into this band, which has been such an integral part of my life.
sorry to ramble, but i just had to get this out there and get it out of my system. i choose to remember Bo how he lived and not how he died. although seeing that article and that picture today made me think of how he died, and how a little part inside of all of us died that day too.. i remember the first time i heard long road and comeback i thought of him. funny how music can remind you of someone else from a long time ago...
i am gonna share the picture that started all of this, but i have to shrink it down and it might be unreadable.
so last time, i just wanted to recognize him and to say publicly here in front of all of these people who might be able to relate....RIP Bo, thanks for everything, and i miss you man.
"You can tell the greatness of a man by what makes him angry." - Lincoln
"Well, you tell him that I don't talk to suckas."
"Well, you tell him that I don't talk to suckas."
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"Well, you tell him that I don't talk to suckas."
This world can be an unfair and unforgiving place. There's no logic to why you were granted extra years and he wasn't, so I don't think there's any way to make sense of that. But I believe that when we lose people we care about they always stay with us.
RIP Bo.
i don't think i have ever really dealt with his loss the way i was supposed to. kinda buried that grief for a long time, and seeing that picture dug it all up again. it is like ripping off a scab or something and the blood coming out if the wound is just the repressed emotions and memories.
i have no doubt that he stayed with me. for awhile at least.. i used to wear a wristband on my arm during my senior football season with his number sewn into it, and during baseball season i wore one with his baseball number sewn in it. there was a picture of me in the paper wearing that wristband and you could see the number on it. i had a monster year my senior year, set school records for home runs and rbis, and ended up walking on to a division one baseball team my first year of college. i wore that wrist band then too. i eventually gave up baseball in the middle of my second year due to injury, but i think Bo was with me when i had that great senior year. he died after our junior year, and had he survived, his name would have been in those record books instead of mine.
i think that questioning my gift of extra years is just my personal issue i have to address. i feel guilty because i feel like i have been wasting those years lately.
i think i am going to go drive by his house and see if his parents are there. it is a beautiful day, and i have some things i need to say to him.
"Well, you tell him that I don't talk to suckas."
every time i heard it for a long time...
"Local Boy In The Photograph"
There's no mistake, I smell that smell
It's that time of year again, I can taste the air
The clocks go back, railway track
Something blocks the line again
And the train runs late for the first time
A pebble beach,
we're underneath,
a pier that's just been painted red
Where I heard the news for the first time
And all the friends lay down the flowers
Sit on the banks and drink for hours
Talk of the way they saw him last
Local boy in the photograph
Today
He'll always be 23, yet the train runs on and on
Past the place they found his clothing
There's no mistake, I smell that smell
It's that time of year again, I can taste the air
The clocks go back, railway track
Something blocks the line again
And the train runs late for the first time
Today
And all the friends lay down the flowers
Sit on the banks and drink for hours
Talk of the way they saw him last
Local boy in the photograph
Today
He's gone away
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cfpW5pAq71c
"Well, you tell him that I don't talk to suckas."
I must confess, I have not thought of him for a while, so, thanks for sharing your thoughts and I hope it proves to be cathartic.
...good times
Oh children, think about the good times...