Eulogy by Joe
My name is Joe Banks, Jon’s oldest brother. These are some of my most cherished memories of Jon that I would like to share with you.
Third Grade: The teacher interrupts the classroom to tell me that I had a new baby brother. I am smiling.
Next: Jon is about 2 or 3 years old, still wearing his footie pajamas one Saturday morning, and, as we’re goofing around, I pick him up by the back of his PJs and he falls headfirst into the coffee table, getting a bump on his eyebrow that require stitches. He would always say he didn’t remember it. I always felt that that was the worst thing I’d ever done to him.
After that, there’s a memory gap, I’m not sure why, of a number of years. But I do remember when I would come home from college, right before he became a teenager, we would drive around in my ’78 Plymouth Fury. Jon used to love to roll down the window at stop lights, and, when I wasn’t looking, scream out the window while waving his arms, “Help, I’m being kidnapped!” [pause] All I could do was to speed off as fast as I could.
Standing on tiptoe to look taller than Jon.
I remember him visiting me in Cleveland after I graduated from college and he’d gone through that incredible growth spurt where he eventually bested my height by more than 2 inches. He was always very proud of that. You may have seen that photo from years later where we’re standing together, he and I, and I appear taller only because I’m standing on my tiptoes. He really didn’t like that photo. He was proud of being the tallest.
But back to when he became a teenager: that’s when we really started to have in-depth, heart-to-heart conversations, where Jon was starting to become the man that all of you came to know. Outgoing, reassuring, welcoming, inquisitive. We could talk about anything. Although I couldn’t always convince him of certain things, I knew he was listening. That was the type of relationship I always had with Jon. In fact, this past week, I had to catch myself a couple of times when I would say, “Dammit, I need to tell Jon about this!”
In 1996, when he was 21, we traveled together to Chicago to a big party to celebrate the 10th anniversary of the music magazine I edited, Alternative Press. That night, we went to see a band called PJ Harvey, which would be followed by an after-show party. After the concert, he found out I neglected to tell him that Radiohead, one of his all-time favorite bands, had also played that night. “What was I thinking,” he said, and I felt bad. As we arrived at the after-show party, we first made a trip to the bathroom. Then, as Jon was ranting, again, “Aw man, I can’t believe we missed Radiohead!” a gentleman who had stepped up to use the urinal between us, spoke up and said, “You like Radiohead do you?” You bet, Jon replied. “Well, I’m Colin, the bass player from Radiohead.” [Surprise pause] The look of surprise on his face was priceless. The rest of the night, Jon hung out with Radiohead and other band celebrities. I was beaming. “Hey Jon, you okay over there? Oh yeah, you’re fine.”
Joe Banks holding baby brother Jon.
The final memory I would like to share with you is all the times that Jon visited us in Cleveland and hung out with his nephew, my son, David, either while Jon was visiting from St. Louis or Boston, or when he eventually moved nearby to Cleveland. Jon loved to buy toys for his nephew, and to play with him, showing him how those toys worked. Recently, my wife Sheryl noticed that I was interchanging Jon’s and David’s names when I spoke about them, or to them. Reflecting on this, I realized I was recalling and reliving those early memories with Jon through David.
Jon and David occupied a similar space in my life, where baby brother and son intertwine in my life and in my heart, a true revelation of how special Jon is to me. I love you, brother.