by Sebastian Bach

   "If you can touch it, you can catch it !! " encouraged Dad, with his characteristic enthusiasm literally dripping all over the pavement in front of 430 Donegal St. in Peterborough, Ontario, Canada. The year is 1978 . Today's lesson in football basics is "the buttonhook ." "3, 4 , HUT !!!" Dad bellows with all the excitement & spirit of a Superbowl, or Memorial Cup, into my 10 year old ear. I am off like a shot 8 paces, where I am instructed to pivot on the 8th, where Dad has already rifled the football a millisecond earlier, so that when i "buttonhook", it is already in my arms "like a loaf of bread " , is how I am coached to hold it. Then I am off again towards Brock St. to an imaginary goalline, where I can possibly get a touchdown if I can only catch the ball.
 Easier said than done!
 My Dad, David Bierk, possessed more zest for life,  inner strength, conviction, passion, creativity, talent, humor, & charisma than anyone I have ever met in my 34 years on this planet. The same way he approached projects such as erecting a life size plastic inflatable train on the roof of Peterborough Square (for the show "Monument To Miniature", in 1975) was the same way as he did everything. Bigger Than Life. With as much power as he could possibly put into it. This attitude extended to everything he did, including ...... well, throwing a football!
 Dad had a VERY strong arm.
 Try as I might, sometimes the ball would drift through my fingers, & our pseudo Superbowl victory denied.
 But as anyone who knew my Dad, or was fortunate enough to be a student of his at Kenner, Sir Sanford Fleming College, Lakefield College School, or in summer courses he taught in Haliburton & North Bay can attest, one of his most obvious attributes was that of the ULTIMATE motivator.
 "C'mon Sebastian, you can do it Bass! IF YOU CAN TOUCH IT, YOU CAN CATCH IT !"
To him it was just a football slogan. Maybe he heard it somewhere, maybe he made it up himself.
But to me, this statement meant something more.
It was about dreams.
It was about Life.
 My name is Sebastian Bierk. I am the oldest of David Bierk's 6 sons. But most of you know me by my stage name Sebastian Bach. How I came from Peterborough to sell over 20 million albums worldwide to date, star in 3 Broadway musicals, & have my own television show on VH1 is due to the influence , guidance & inspiration of one man & one man only : David Bierk .
 Nothing was impossible to our Dad. He always told me "you can do anything, & be anything you want in this life " when I was a small child, & although the words were spoken, his actions spoke far louder than any words ever could.
 Dad grew up in Lafayette California, son to Doris Bierk. Dad's father Glenn left the family when Dad was only 2 or 3 years old, and had no contact at all with my father throughout his life. He once came to hang out with Dad at the age of 8 years old, but this was the single & only time that my father had any interaction whatsoever with his own. Of course this was a painful part of Dad's life but in true artistic fashion, he took whatever emotion he had in his heart & focused it through his paintbrush & onto canvas for the whole world to see. In absolute defiance to his own father's life choices,  he also made a lifelong commitment to be the best Dad a child could ever hope to have. David Bierk was not only a strict disciplinarian & loving father, but he was also one of the hippest, coolest, most fun-to-be-around guys who ever walked the streets of Peterborough. The tenacity & love that he expressed through the colours & textures of his art were 100% brought back home to the dinner table each & every night, & onto the playgrounds, into the classrooms,  & every other aspect of his family's lives.
 My parents met each other in Freeport, Bahamas. My father was a teacher at Mary Star of the Sea school. I was born on April 3, 1968 . We left Freeport because Dad wanted to finish his BA degree and he applied to Humboldt State College in Arcata. He majored in painting and minored in photography.  We settled in Eureka, California. This is where my sister, Heather Dylan, was born, in September,1970. We stayed in California for 3  years and then, because teaching jobs were scarce, decided to return to the Bahamas for a year, where he resumed teaching at Mary Star of the Sea.  During the summer break, we came to Canada to visit my Mom's family in Windsor. While staying with my Aunt Leslie and Uncle Don Waite in Unionville, Dad applied for several jobs.  Reading the Globe & Mail one morning, he saw a job for an Art Teacher at Kenner Collegiate in Peterborough.  Although he had never been to Peterborough, he drove up for the interview and was hired to teach.  I went with him back to Freeport, packed up our things and returned to Canada before the start of school.
 The Bierk family had finally found a home.
 My Dad loved Peterborough more than any other place on Earth. He loved the colours of the Canadian sunset at night, the walls of rock framing the highways & byways of Ontario, the waterfalls, wildlife, & beautiful scenery that are so abundant in the Kawarthas & surrounding area. But more than that, he told me on many occasions, he loved the space & quiet energy of Peterborough. This town allowed Dad (& artists before & after him) the creative atmosphere, friendly environment & local community support that he felt was integral to the realization his life's work - his art.
 After a short but happy time sharing a duplex located near Kenner, we moved into our first Peterborough house , 1408 Monaghan Road. All of the Bierk kids attended Queen Mary Public School, & my bedroom had a big window facing Queen Mary. I thought it was so neat that I could walk right across the street to my own school & then stare right through Mrs. Rowell's kindegarden class window at my own classroom as I went to sleep every night. Sometimes Dad would need an extra helper as he was driving around Ontario hanging his art shows, and these are some of my most precious childhood memories. "Sebastian" my name would echo through the Queen Mary concrete halls, through the school PA system. "You are wanted in the principals office ." As I would gulp in apprehension trying to think of any possible recess hijinx I might have been involved in, my concerns would be allayed in the final steps toward Mr. Bailey's office. There would be Dad standing there with the familiar refrain , " Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyy BASS! FEEL LIKE TAKING THE DAY OFF SCHOOL & going to TORONTO ????" Gee, let me check my schedule Dad! Then we would be off to Nancy Poole's Studio, or Lindsay, or Kingston, or wherever we had to go - it didn't matter where. Really, it was just incredible FUN to be around my dad.
 We would stop at Parkway Variety or Westmount for snacks & reading material. At the age of 5 , Dad has given me my first Batman comic book & I have been a serious collector ever since. At the time comics were just for fun, but what Dad had really given me through comic books was an unabashed love for the written word, & a subsequent appetite for reading bordering on the voracious. For that I thank him each & every day. Since Dad was driving, he would have me read aloud to him the latest issue of "ArtsCanada" , " artmagazine", or whatever other art publication he had brought along for the drive. I would read to him about his friends & colleagues (Dennis Tourbin, Tobey Anderson, Eric Loder, Joe Stable, Jean Nind, or Toby Pflieger just to name a few)  & all the current art news & features of the day as well. Dad thought it was quite funny how I could read to him his magazines when I was 7 or 8 , so he came up with an idea: he wanted me to recite, word for word, the "DuChampian Philosophy " for his Sir Sanford Fleming College art class. So after about a week of me memorizing, my Dad announced to his class that "Today , we have a special surprise guest speaker - my son, Sebastian "& then to the hilarity of the class, I marched my little 8 year old body & trembling voice up to the podium, where I proceeded to recite word for word "The DuChampian Philosophy" . To this day, I have no idea what it means, but I remember the class clapping & my Dad being extremely proud of me. Some things you just don't forget.
  It was right around this time (the mid- 1970s) , that Dad came up with an idea that would change Peterborough forever. It was called Artspace. With Dad handling the creative side & Mom taking care of the business end of things, the first Artspace was born in 1974 - on the corner of Brock & Water St. across from Peterborough City Hall (the building does not exist anymore) . The first Artspace had two floors of local artist's work, and was actually featured on the cover of a 1977 issue of "artmagazine" , featuring a veritable who's -who of local artists assembled in front of the building in the photo. If you look close, you can see me standing there too - I look a little different than I did on the cover of Rolling Stone, but the little boy on the cover with Dad & all his friends is me. That was how Artspace was - a family, not only to the artists themselves, but to the kids of the artists & their families as well. Dennis Tourbin & Bill Kimball were like uncles to me, as were Nick Woods , Wayne Cardinelli, Dan Sharp , & a host of other colourful characters that would play a very large influence on my own life & art in years to come. Long days spent at the studio or at Artspace would often end at our house with the artists coming home with us, to talk around the dinner table about the days events & future projects & dreams as well.
 After 1408 Monaghan Rd., we moved into a house in Cavan. This is where my brother Zac was born. The first time I met Zac, I walked in the house & there he was just a couple of days old, sleeping on Dad's chest listening to his heartbeat, as Dad himself listened to "Isn't She Lovely" by Stevie Wonder on the stereo.  I started to attend North Cavan Elementary, but I really missed my friends back at Queen Mary, so halfway through the second grade my parents asked Queen Mary if it would be possible for me to come back there. The school agreed to accept me, but of course there was no bus from Cavan to Queen Mary. So my Dad took it upon himself to get up early every morning & drive me to & from Queen Mary every day. When I received my first "D" on a test, my Dad once again called upon his motivational skills, and as punishment for the low grade, stopped our van right at the top of the hill on the road overlooking the Cavan Swamp. Today's lesson in life basics is "the consequence".
" Sebastian " he said , " I want you to get out of the van ".
"Why Dad ?"
"Because, each time you get a mark like that, this will be the consequence ".
 "What's that?" I asked.
"Start walking " was the reply.
  And with that, Dad pulled away down the road into the distant horizon. I had to walk home to Cavan, halfway from Peterborough, in the second grade. Harsh, one might say, but you know what? I never brought home another "D" . Years later, I actually ended up being the only student ever to skip a grade at Lakefield College School, but hey, if you had to walk home from Peterborough to Cavan, you would make your studies a major priority as well! It's a lot easier on the feet.
 Once again , thank you Dad .
 In 1977 , after a year of renovations, the doors opened on the "new " Artspace. Located at 190 Hunter St. in the old "Bellegham Building" , it was a large gallery on the upper floor with a massive sound system, designed by Bill Woods, built right into the walls. The lower level of the building was eventually turned into "CityStage" , a performance space featuring rock bands, theatre, & spoken word pieces. I remember Dad bringing "The Viletones " to CityStage in the late '70's, in what had to be Peterborough's first (only?) encounter with Punk Rock.
 Eventually we moved to 430 Donegal St. Things were getting a little rocky between my mom & dad. Around 1978, they got divorced. My father moved into an apartment in the same building as Artspace. It was around this time that my Dad met the true love of his life, Elizabeth Lovett Aimers. Liz took Artspace to a whole new level, with a new professionalism & business acumen that was more ambitious and international in scope than the much - beloved, but smaller in scale, first incarnation of Artspace on Water Street. Dad & Liz gave me a job at Artspace 3 days a week which entailed such duties as sweeping up, selling food & drinks at gallery functions, & delivering copies of the free Artspace newspaper "INPRINT" to various local establishments. Most of all, I spent a lot of time plastering up flyers & posters of upcoming Artspace events all over Peterborough . I would go into stores such as Hatton's Fun House, A&A Records in the Peterborough Square, Sam The Record Man on George Street, Sandy's Book Store & right next to it Trent University Book Store on Charlotte St., & of course to my favorite store in all of Peterborough - Moondance Records & Tapes, owned & operated by family friend Mike Taveroff . These stores would always place the latest Artspace poster prominently in the front store window every time I asked, so I always went to these stores first. We would also tape & glue flyers to telephone poles, construction site walls, & wherever else we could, getting the word out about whatever artist/exhibition would be coming to town next. It always felt like a family project. Whatever dad set his mind to, he would make his whole family, and community as well, feel like we were a part of it too. That was the nature of David Bierk.
 One evening on Donegal Street, Dad began talking excitedly about some artist by the name of "Christo". Dad began to tell us about how Christo wrapped whole islands off the coast of Florida in pink plastic, and erected massive "curtains " of brightly coloured fabric in between mountaintops of California and into the valleys below. Incredible as it sounded, Dad said that he thought he could get the world-famous Christo to come have a show at Artspace. And then, I remember vividly, Dad just jumping over to the kitchen telephone & exclaiming to all present , " I'm calling him right NOW!" .  " But Dad, you don't ..... know him !" I remember thinking to myself. Such a trivial point would never get in the way of David Bierk.
 Somehow Dad got Christo's phone number, & soon he actually had Christo on the line himself. It was not long after that, when Christo did indeed have a show at Artspace, called "Wrapped Walkways" . The whole artistic community of Canada could not believe that the internationally renowned Christo was here. Not only that, but Dad also had Christo over to our house for dinner! I remember Dad's best friend Dennis Tourbin coming over that night and all I could think about was how unbelievable it was to have seen Dad track down Christo in the kitchen on the phone weeks before, to having Christo himself pass the salt & ketchup to me for my french fries at the supper table a couple of weeks later.
 The Hunter St. location of Artspace was certainly a major success for Dad & Liz, but there were even bigger things looming ahead. Peterborough's signature building, the Market Hall, the virtual heart of the city, was available for rent. But a complete renovation of the space was necessary in order to turn it into a suitable venue for Artspace. This would take a lot of hard work, which Dad thrived upon, but a project this large in scope would also require a sizable financial commitment. Again, the city of Peterborough, through numerous individual donations, coupled with various grants from the Government of Canada, came through for David Bierk. Approximately $700,000 was raised for the Artspace Market Hall Building Project & the third, & grandest Artspace of all, was born. I was given another job at the building project. Under the direction of construction foreman Gary Joffree-Clark, I spent all summer carrying buckets of shattered bricks and other assorted debris down the back stairs of the Market Hall, dumping the garbage into the dumpsite (next to the Peterborough Square fountain) and then, marching back up the stairs for the next load. The demolition pile was seemingly endless, but I was not to be paid a cent until the very last week of the summer. Why? Because Dad, as always, was trying to teach me a lesson. He told me about how when he was just a young teen in California, he took his first job for one reason only. His mother Doris, a single mom, was in the 1950s doing the impossible - raising a son without a husband/father to help. In order to surprise his mom & show her how much he loved her, and in appreciation of all the sacrifices she had made for him, Dad worked all summer long at his very first job. He hoarded every single cent he made. Never spent a penny on himself. Instead, at the end of the summer, he took all the money he had saved &, unbeknownst to Grandma, bought her a brand new Hi-fi Record Player / Radio System, complete with built-in 45 record cleaner & an all - hardwood finish.  With music rapidly becoming the focus of my life, I tried to emulate my Dad's work ethic, & I succeeded ..... but my Mom already had a stereo, so I bought myself one! But that was my dad's way of teaching me about the value of hard work & setting a goal .... I still have the stereo I bought that summer, & it still means as much to me today as it did back in the late summer of 1982 .
 Soon I found myself becoming a man myself. After being a soprano singer at All Saints Anglican Church & a soloist in the Lakefield College School choir after that, it sound became apparent to myself & my family that I possessed a voice that was unique. I could sing The Police, David Bowie, & Elton John, but my voice was especially suited to hard driving rock'n'roll, which was quickly becoming my obsession. After starting out in local groups & winning a local "battle of the bands" at Crarey Park, I tried out for a real rock group in Toronto . I was 13 or 14 at the time but the guys in what would eventually become "Kid Wikkid " were all 25 - 30 years of age. As I walked into the audition, there were 3 or 4 guys there in their mid to late 20's, so I thought there would be no chance for me. But as I listened to the other guys audition, my Dad's words started going around in my head . " If you can touch it, you can catch it !" I remembered from years ago. I might not have had the experience, or stamina of these older guys, I thought to myself, but this isn't a 2 hour show - it's a 3 minute audition. So when it came to my turn to sing, I thought of my dad & what he would do, & I blasted out the highest, loudest, most ferocious scream I could muster from my throat. I touched the scream...... then I caught it. And took that note straight to the goalie. Touchdown!
After the song was over , I looked around the room .
 I got the gig .
 Easier said than done!
 There were 2 major problems which were obvious to all: #1: I lived in Peterborough, not Toronto. Problem # 2 : I was just 13 years old.
 I took dad to Mother's Pizzeria (where the WOLF radio station stands today ) . "Ummmm Dad ...... there is something I have to tell you . "
" Yeah Bass ?" "I'm moving to Toronto to become a rock star." "No, you're not ." "Yes, I am." "NO YOU'RE NOT . " Dad was serious.
 But as the days went by, he realized I was serious too. He knew that my love for music was an exact parallel and possible result of, his love for art. Even though he was not the biggest heavy metal fan in the world, Dad decided to let me move to Toronto, to live with my Aunt Leslie & pursue my dreams. On one condition. I was to begin serious vocal training immediately, in Peterborough, from my first ever vocal coach, Jon Anderson. When I arrived in Toronto, I was to report once a week to Gwen Lynn Little Vocal School on Eglington Avenue, where Dad had already prepaid for my lessons. All I had to do was show up . " If you're gonna do this ", said Dad, "you're going to do it right ." Being able to scream was one thing, but to sing night after night for months on end & to develop a style that was all my own were different matters entirely. There were even 2 articles published in "Peterborough This Week" at this time about the situation between me & my dad. The first article was called "Peterborough Kid Gets Wikkid " . Underneath that was the second article, entitled "Sebastian's Heavy Metal Career Concerns Dad ". Of course it concerned him! He loved me & was always looking out for all of his children's health & well-being. But he totally believed in my voice & gave me all the encouragement & support over the years I could ever ask for.
He believed in dreams.
 Throughout the eighties & nineties, David Bierk & his wife & manager Elizabeth Bierk along with their colleague Pablo took Dad's company BierkArt to unprecedented heights. Bierk Art was given international exposure & recognition & my Dad never stopped creating his Art for a millisecond. From his studio at 408 & a half George St. in the 1970s to today's still active multileveled space across & down the street, featuring his "Faith" & "Believe" billboards overlooking the city, Dad was the most prolific artist I knew; painter, musician, author, or otherwise. His drive to paint & create was all-encompassing until he simply could not hold a paint brush anymore. When he reached that sad but inevitable point, he would still make daily trips to the studio as much as his poor body would allow, still creating art with his sons Alex, Jeff, Nicky & Charlie. Although he could no longer paint in the final weeks of his life, he was still directing the proceedings, overseeing his sons painting copper & embarking on more new projects. Organizing & planning his art never left his mind. I was with Dad for the last week & a half of his life, up until 2 days before his untimely demise, & as I would feed him his breakfast he would never stop telling me or Liz or anyone else in the room of his ideas for projects, paintings, drawings, etc. Although disease had unmercifully wracked his body & sedatives had been compulsory to ease the unimaginably pain he was in, his mind & creative drive could not be silenced. Thanks to the unbelievable body of work that he has left behind, all we have to do now is take a look at one of thousands of pieces of his art to feel the artistic passion that was & always will be David Bierk.
 In 1987, at the age of 19  , I joined the band "Skid Row " and moved to New Jersey, USA. As we built up a following on the East Coast of America we all sensed there was something special about our music, & in 1988 Ahmet Ertegun, the man who created Atlantic Records in the 1940s & also signed The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, & The Who, came to see us in Pennsylvania. A week later, he signed us to a record contact for $1.5 million (US). I was immediately thrust into a world that I never could have imagined growing up in Peterborough. I found myself on the road for virtually my entire early '20's, touring with the likes of Van Halen, Bon Jovi, Aerosmith, Guns'N'Roses, Motley Crue, Metallica, Soungarden, Nine Inch Nails, & Pantera. As my life became busier & more surreal than I or my Dad ever could have fathomed, it was his guidance that always brought me back down to Earth & reminded me to remember Sebastian Bierk, although the demands & pressures of being Sebastian Bach involve more hard work & sacrifice than I could ever have possibly envisioned while I was playing Crary Park in 1982 . Between concerts at 4 in the morning in the middle of a year long tour on the road in who-knows-where Germany, it was my Dad whom I could always count on to be there for me on the other end of the line, no matter what condition I, or in recent years he, happened to be in at the time.  The road will be that much harder for me in the years to come, without his encouragement & love pushing me on.
 In 1989 the first Skid Row album came out, & it has since sold over 10 million copies worldwide & received triple-platinum status in Canada. To follow up our first record, we had to pull out all the stops, so we called the best artist we could think of to come up with the cover - David Bierk. As song lyrics & art sketches were faxed back & forth between Dad & the band, the cover for "Slave to the Grind " became a reality. Dad used friends & family members as live models to create a 16 foot long & 7 foot high mural that was used as the gatefold artwork for the CD. In June 1991 , the CD was released. Not even Dad could have predicted the results. This collaboration between Peterborough father & son became the first album to debut @ # 1 on the Billboard album chart since Michael Jackson's Bad, a full 7 years before. It has since gone on to double platinum status in the USA & has to date sold over 4 million copies worldwide. That year, David Bierk received an honourable mention for "Album Cover of the Year " in Rolling Stone magazine.
 In the year 2000 I received an offer to audition for the lead role in "Jekyll & Hyde : The Musical ", on Broadway, in New York City. To say that I & my whole family were surprised would be an understatement. To say I was nervous was also a given. I did not understand why I had been asked to try out for a Broadway leading role, due to my background as a Hard Rock performer. But Dad said I should give it a shot, & gave me that "David Bierk confidence" that everyone knew him for. But when I went to see the play on Broadway, I knew that as challenging as the acting & schedule would be, this role was something I had to do.
 The plot of the play is that Dr. Jekyll's father has an incurable disease. Dr. Jekyll is obsessed with creating a chemical formula in his laboratory that will save his father. As was the case in England in the late 1800's, where the play is set, any time a new medicine was invented, intensive testing on human subjects were to  have been conducted on human subjects before the "Board Of Governors " would allow the medicine to be used on the general public. Dr. Jekyll pleads his case, & is turned down by the Board. But in his desperation to save his dying father, he ignores the law & conducts the experiments on himself. As everyone knows, the experiment goes awry, & the terrible Mr. Hyde is born. The fact that the actor who played my father in the play was named David was a coincidence but not surprising.
  My role in Jekyll & Hyde made my Dad prouder of anything I had ever done. As he brought his family from all over North America to see the play, he also spent a day photographing my billboard which loomed over Times Square all summer long. To have Dad in the audience, & knowing that he had leukemia, & to sing & act my heart out on the Broadway stage with every emotion in my being going toward "saving my dying father" , was the absolute pinnacle of my professional & personal life to date. Directed by Robin Phillips, world renowned for his direction of (among countless other plays) Shakespeare in Stratford-Upon-Avon & more recently Jessica Lange on London's West End, I was taught the classic "method " of acting in intense rehearsals with Robin. I obviously did not have to reach far for emotions thinking about my Dad. An hour before the curtain came up on opening night, Robin Phillips called me. "Think of your Father, Sebastian ", was what he repeated to me over & over. I called Dad right after I talked to Robin. His inspiration, as well as his elation & happiness for what I was about to do, was instrumental in my success on Broadway.
 In October I am about to embark on the biggest tour of my 20 year career. Of course, although Dad has left us in the physical sense, his spirit will always be in my heart no matter what I do.  I have been personally chosen by Andrew Lloyd Webber to take over the role of Jesus Christ in the US national touring production of Jesus Christ Superstar, which commences in La Mirada California on November 1st. Dad knew about this in his final months, & being a big fan of Andrew Lloyd Webber's "Cats" soundtrack, was elated at the news. Once again I feel fortunate that I can express my love for my Dad through my own art, especially now, when his passing still feels so raw. The tour is, at the moment , 8 shows a week from October to next September - 42 weeks. I have never pushed myself this hard, but again I do not have to go far for inspiration. "If you can touch it, you can catch it " were the words of my father all those years ago. I know for a fact that one day on this tour there will be a time when I am sure that I can physically not do the show. But all I have to do is remember my Dad, David Bierk, & the example he set, & the incredible, inspiring life that he lived. He has been a constant presence in my life up to this point, and he always will always be.
 August 28 2002 was Dad's last day. My family & I were driving back to New Jersey after spending a week & a half with Dad. We had some unexpected car trouble & got stranded in Gananoque for 3 days. On the 28th we decided to rent a boat & go to Gordon Island & Mulcaster Island in the Canadian National Park's 1000 Islands. I called home from a cliff on Gordon Island on my cell phone to check up on Dad, & his youngest son Charlie gave me the news of Dad's passing. As our campfire blazed, the waves crashed into the rock cliffs below my feet & a single white bird flew above us as I got the news. We sat there for an hour or so trying to grasp what had happened, huddled next to the fire until our boat rental time of 4 hours expired at 8 PM. It was totally like Dad, guiding me to a such a spiritual place to have me try to accept the fact I will never be able to see his kind face again. Gordon Island - not America, not mainland Canada either, kind of like I was never anywhere & this never happened. As we raced back to the dock, we all were astounded to stare through our tears at the most beautiful Canadian sunset I have ever witnessed in my life. Full of bright blues. Crimson reds. Seemingly airbrushed across the sky, the bright white of the clouds looked to be almost painted against the red & blue hues in the background. It looked exactly like a David Bierk painting. And I swear, as the sun set, I could see a single cloud, shaped like a D , like his signature, fading right into the centre of the horizon. I tried to get back to shore before dark so I could get my camera & take a picture of the sky, but by the time I got to land it was dark. It doesn't matter. Some things you just don't forget.
"Father, into Your Hands, I commend ..... my spirit " are my last words as Jesus Christ in Jesus Christ Superstar.
After all, Dad, you gave me mine.