Yes, that's right. Once again, my condolences to everyone who was close to them or touched by them.

We miss you.

Salut, Michael.

Salut!

You are missed!

salut. salut. salut.

Salut to three wonderful young men taken before their time!

Reading through these 20 odd pages, I'm happy for the world of music that has brings people together. It's very sad, but satisfying to read the wonderful posts about these guys by people like Steve and Biznono. It's inspiring to read the determined updates by Mr. Chimp and others. It's humbling to see tmidgett's strength through this nightmare. It's comforting to read other who knew (and didn't know) these guys reach out and try to say something in a few awkward words on this board.

And it's
fun
to
go
back
and
read
spoot's
posts.

He was a funny and intelligent guy.

Salut you young men! You are still missed and inspiring!

= Justin

I haven't been able to bring myself to post on this topic until now. It's so intensely personal and I have such a proprietary feeling on the whole thing that it's almost like reading reviews of your music(although these are all unilaterally positive and wonderful). I also couldn't make it past the first 2 or 3 pages
without starting to ball like a toddler until recently.

I was a bandmate of Doug's for 3 years in Exo. During that period, I came to know the kindest, dearest, most stultifyingly
funny person in the world. A man who ate Peeps for breakfast
off of his dashboard. The one who laughed out loud when a heckler called him Harry Potter. The anomaly who had the vision to drop his drawers to his ankles while peeing in the truckstop john, with one hand on his hip and the other on the urinal. Everyone was looking, no one was talking. I nearly crapped my pants.

Or how he lavishly distributed praise- for the shoes you were wearing, for my wife whom he thought was the bomb... which she is, or for a thing someone played at that one part of the song. It was pure, almost child-like in tone and enthusiasm and devoid of any hint of sarcasm.

He was interested in what was going on with me. He always asked- sometimes it would be a question so simple and direct that it actually stumped me. Or maybe what stumped me was the sincerity of the question. He stood in front of me and addressed only me when we were talking. For those moments, those precious moments, I was with a friend.

I miss him, think about him every day, and wish very much he were here, if only just to talk to. Or see behind the kit.

I send my thoughts and love to all who knew Doug, John, and Micheal. Take care on this day.

To: Guitarist, Drummer, Drummer

Your space is still everywhere, all of the time.

Thank you for reminding us how to be,

Thank you for showing us how this works.



Jim