He would be 47 years old on January 28

 

How does one celebrate the birthday of a loved one no longer living? We remember them....from birth to toddlerhood, from child to teen to adult, from soldier to corporate employee. So many years, and yet so few, only 33, and then he was gone. He would be 47 today, if he had lived. What would he have been like? Would he have found love, married, had children? We will never know. I am grateful for the photos and the memories. I am still finding new photos as I scan my mother's slides and negatives. This one I think she took in her house. I do know it was taken in August 1994 when he was nineteen and a student at Kansas State University, still a slim fellow who hadn't yet been required to cut his long hair for his job at Aladdin's Castle video game parlor in the Manhattan Mall. 

What he's wearing has some significance. The t-shirt was a gift from his brother, who had been an Air Force Academy cadet. It's a USAFA Boxing shirt. The necklace is chain mail that Leif made himself. He made a lot of chain mail items, from small things like this necklace and some earrings, to giant projects like the huge chain mail shirt he made that weighed 50 pounds. He learned to make chain mail due to his interesting in medieval armor and participating in the Society for Creative Anachronism. 

We miss him every day of our lives. In April, he will be gone from us fourteen years.

Happy Birthday, another year missing you

Today (January 28th) would have been Leif's 42nd birthday, if he  had lived. I spent the day doing something he would have enjoyed, going to the Tampa Gasparilla pirate festival, Tampa's pirate version of Mardi Gras.

It was just his kind of day, boats, a pirate ship, wenches in sexy pirate costumes, a parade, cannons firing, plenty of beer being consumed. His kind of party.

I don't know whether he ever went to Gasparilla during the few years he lived in this area. If so, I didn't find any photos of it on his camera or computer. It he didn't, it's a shame. Too bad he didn't belong to a krewe. He would have been a good member and could have lobbed beads at the crowds with phenomenal strength and aim.

His first persona in the Society for Creative Anachronism was a "Viking pirate," and because he was stylish and debonair, he was known as the "GQ pirate."

I wish that GQ pirate had been there with us today. I would have loved to see him swashbuckling around.

This photo was taken in Manhattan, Kansas in 1993 when he was 18 years old.

Leif's Coif and Armor

Tonight Peter W. and I went to the German American Club Fasching party, like a Mardi Gras celebration German style. Although it's traditional to wear costumes, most of those attending don't, and the smaller percentage who do are competing for small cash prizes.

This year, Peter W. went as a knight, wearing the chain mail coif (the head covering you see in the photo) that Leif made and one of the beautifully crafted hand and wrist armor pieces that Leif purchased in 2003. He combined a shield he made with a shirt made from two dragon flags and completed his costume with leggings, boots, a sword and a dagger.

There were a lot of comments on the coif and many questions, asking what it was made of. They couldn't seem to believe it was really metal chain mail.

Peter won third prize for his costume, and although he was disappointed because he won first prize last year and second the year before that, considering that most people (including me) didn't win a prize, he should have been pleased.

Leif's coif and armor reminded me so of him, and his participation in the SCA (Society for Creative Anachronism). I could almost see his bemused smile, had he seen his dad in this garb.

As I have said so many times, Leif is still with us in so many ways, in our thoughts and hearts, in all the things he left behind, the photos, the belongings, the memories.

I remember when he made the coif. He was very proud of it. He truly created it from scratch, purchasing a giant spool of wire. He used a drill to wind it around a rod and then he cut it into links which he wove in a beautiful pattern to make the coif. He had no pattern that I know of, just figured out how to make it fit his head, face and neck. I've posted this photo of him in it before. I wonder how many tiny links the coif contains and how many hours it took him to make it. Nowhere near as many hours as it took to make the huge (because it had to fit on his 6'2" frame) chain mail "shirt" (which I believe should be called a byrnie or haubergeon) that must have required both thousands of links and hundreds of hours. It weighed 52 pounds. How he ever managed to fight in SCA bouts wearing that shirt, other metal armor, and a heavy metal helmet, as well as carrying heavy weapons, amazes me. He was so very strong.

Chain Mail Shirts - Remembering Leif in Russia

We recently returned from a two-week trip to Russia, which put a stop to my blog posts for awhile. It was an interesting trip and there were so many things a long the way that reminded us of Leif, things we would have liked to share with him.

One afternoon we went to the History Musuem in Moscow. It is just outside the Kremlin and a beautiful old building. Although there was little English to tell us about the exhibits, we enjoyed the progression of Russian history from pre-history times until the time of the czars.

One of the things that made of think of Leif was the medieval battle accoutrements, armor, chain mail, swords, axes. Leif loved those things and when he lived in Kansas he was an avid member, and fighter, in the SCA (Society for Creative Anachronism). One thing that amazed me was when he bought big spools of heavy wire, spun it around a rod, cut links from it, and made himself a chain mail shirt. I can't even imagine how many hours that took him. In order to work on it, he hung a large, heavy metal pipe from the transom between the living and dining rooms at 710 N. 9th Street in Manhattan, Kansas, and hung the shirt on it. It passed through the sleeves and held it up straight so that he could add to it.

When finished, the shirt weighed 52 pounds. We all tried it on and wondered how the knights could ever have engaged in battle wearing armor and chain mail with such incredible weight. I think that chain mail actually weighed considerably more than metal armor, but either way, a knight (medieval or modern) would be carrying probably a minimum of 55-60 pounds of armor or mail, and the weapons were heavy as well.

However, modern army infantrymen, especially machine gunners like Leif was, have to carry more than that and still be able to march, run and fight. Leif was used to that heavy load from his time in the infantry, so putting on a 50 pound shirt to go fight in the City Park wasn't the ordeal for him that it would have been for any of us.

The top photo is of Leif at the City Park in April 2003, not long after he finished the chain mail shirt, and before he got his fancy new armor later that summer. Imagine trying to move and carry on a sword or axe battle in that much bulk and weight. Leif loved it.

The other photos are of chain mail shirts in the Historical Museum in Moscow. Leif would have been interested in their construction. There are various ways to make chain mail, various patterns. The middle photo is more like his. The lower one uses much heavier iron rings that seem to have some kind of fastening or locking mechanism on them.

There were more chain mail shirts there, and many interesting suits of armor. I wish Leif had seen them.

When Leif died and we had to clean out his apartment, we had no room to keep all of his SCA things, and no use for them other than memories, so we gave them to his friend Jason, including the chain mail shirt, and hope that he found other SCA members who could use them and perhaps remember their original owner and creator. We have only photos.

He Dreamed a Dream

Leif was a dreamer who dreamed of being a hero, a warrior. Someone who discovered him on Facebook or in this blog and asked to befriend him after death wrote to me that Leif would have liked this blog, that Vikings wanted the songs of their deeds and lives to be sung, to be remembered.

Leif's persona in the Society for Creative Anachronism, SCA, was a Viking pirate. For years SCA was an important part of his life, and he reveled in dressing in his garb, improving his armor and weaponry over the years. He made rattan weapons to fight with and fought many a Sunday battle in the Manhattan City Park (in Manhattan, Kansas), wearing an incredible amount of weight, especially toward this end of the time he lived there when he had the fifty-pound chain mail shirt he made. Several times I went to watch him and take pictures.

He dreamed of being the kind of hero he could perhaps have been in an earlier age, and surrounded himself with both ancient and thoroughly modern weaponry.

I was looking online for information about the Viking songs and sagas and was surprised to discover that they have fragments of ancient Viking songs written in a kind of musical notation using runes, and one site showed both the old runic notation and a modern translation of it. The title of the songs was so completely appropriate, "I Dreamed a Dream," so I decided to try to record it with GarageBand. I wish I had the time and talent to add accompaniment to it, though I have no idea what the Viking sound would have been, beyond the tune. I wonder, too, what the rest of the words were, and whether they, too, would have fit Leif.

The photos I put with the song are ones Leif took of himself on August 7, 2003 when he had just purchased his new armor. He was posing in the living room of the house at 710 N. Ninth Street in Manhattan, Kansas, where he was living at the time. It was a good time for him. I think he had at least somewhat recovered from the breakup of his marriage, he had graduated from Kansas State University that May, and was looking forward to a brighter future. He has just gotten a job at Sykes, which no longer has a call center in Manhattan. Little did he know how his life was about to change, first for the better, as he was so ecstatically in love beginning a couple of months later, and then dashed to pieces when the she left him. I think the period from about May 2003 to February 2004 was one of the happiest of his life, and it shows in his looks. He was so handsome then.

So, my Viking son, although I do not sing your exploits, I do write them and give them to the world.

Leif's Ninth (and First) Home - Back to 804 Moro Street, Manhattan, Kansas - July 1992 - Summer 1995

In July 1992 Leif flew from Puerto Rico back to Kansas to stay with his grandmother, Marion Kundiger, and take drivers' education at Manhattan High School, back to the old stone house where he lived when he was born. He stayed with her there until we arrived in September and started renovating the house. I've already written about that.

He went to his senior year at Manhattan High School, but started taking classes at Kansas State University during the spring semester and graduated from high school in May 1993. It was during this time that he became active in the Society for Creative Anachronism, SCA, and began making his own chain mail.

The summer after graduation, he had two special trips, the one back to Puerto Rico to be with his friends there when they graduated, and the NCL cruise to the western Caribbean we took that August.

In the summer of 1995, he moved out with NIkko, who was then his girlfriend, soon to be his fiance and in a short time his wife, but the house continued to be an important part of all our lives until 2005.

The three years he lived there again he was 17 to 20 years old.
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The photos are:
1. The front door of 904 Moro Street with a Christmas decoration on it. Taken in November 1998.
2. Leif at the formal night of the NCL cruise in the western Caribbean in August 1993.
3. Leif in his cap and gown after graduating from Manhattan High School in May 1993.
4. Leif at the Renaissance Fest near Kansas City in October 1993. He made the chain mail necklace and cape he is wearing.
5. Leif at Renaissance Fest near Kansas City in October 1993, with the chain mail necklace and cape he made. Note the earrings.

Leif's Pirate Story - A Beginning

I found this on Leif's computer after he died. It was labeled just "story." I don't know exactly when he wrote it but it had to be between September 2007 and April 2008. I think it is likely to be early in 2008. I wish he had written more. It seems like a promising beginning, and I am intrigued that he chose to write in first person from a woman's point of view.

Leif's Society for Creative Anachronism persona was a pirate, and because he was such a snappy and stylish dresser in those days, even as a pirate, he was dubbed "the GQ Pirate," and had email addresses that were thegqpirate@hotmail.com, for instance. He had an affinity for the sea and this story seems well suited to his imagination. Leif also had an obsession with sex and romance, and I don't doubt that had he written more of this story, we would have been treated to plenty of romance and erotica.

I am also wondering where this English pirate would have taken his English captive and whether they would have shown up in Puerto Rico, since Leif mentions that is where she and her husband were heading. It would have been a natural locale for him to choose, since he lived there for two years.

The story was apparently envisioned as a series of diary entries, but we only have the first one to pique our interest.

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Dear Diary,

It has been some time since I wrote as my master has only recently returned to me my pen and quill. I will try to recount the events of the last year as well as I remember them.

I was aboard a Spanish galleon bound for San Juan, Puerto Rico where my husband had accepted, or I should say been forced to accept, a position as a surgeon after we were banished from Barcelona for his unrestrained debauchery. Ours being a marriage of obligation my father in London owed due to contractual agreements, my husband never felt compelled to maintain his fidelity, dipping his quill in every Spanish slut he could find despite how it tarnished my already dubious reputation as an English woman living in Spain.

I remember the day well. It was bright and clear and the sails on the horizon could be seen for hours before they raised concern. It was beautiful, one of the few days of the voyage on which I ventured out onto the deck of our ship to enjoy the Atlantic air. I saw the other ship but paid it little mind as others did, just another group of wayward souls on a vast ocean.

But then there was a call of panic from the crow's nest, screaming in Spanish so rapid and desperate I could barely make it out, not being a native speaker. “Pee-rah-tez!!!” was what I heard, the Spanish pronunciation for the word “pirates,” and not just any pirates, it was the flag of the “Avarice,” the ship captained by the infamous Gaius the Grey, a former English privateer no longer under any royal restraint.

Quickly, the deck hands sprung into action as we attempted to change course but the wind was against us. I heard, and there was no heading we could take that would not drive us into the path of the Avarice. Our captain was a right proper Spanish caricature of machismo, and having the full cannon of a Spanish galleon at his disposal chose to maneuver for attack rather than escape. Despite my curiosity my husband forced me to go below deck. Were I a sensible or frightened sort I might have cowered behind the bed but I am a curious sort and so I found my face framed in a porthole watching the approach of the fearsome pirate.

It seemed an agonizing wait but after a time I saw a flash and plume of smoke from the Avarice. A few seconds later I heard the repot of a cannon, but not before I felt the impact of its ball impacting the deck of our ship. The sensation of the ship as it shook from the impact was terrifying. One shot from extended range and this pirate had hit us. There was a pause from the Avarice but our captain returned the greeting with a full broadside volley of cannon fire. It was deafening as the dozen cannon went off, like nothing I had ever heard, yet the balls fell into the ocean with inept splashes either too short or too wide to hit the advancing Avarice.

The cannons began to talk to each other. A single shot from the bow of the Avarice followed by massive broadsides from our own guns. I heard a shot whiz right over our deck with an eerie sound and watched more of our shots fall to the sea. It was clear that what this pirate vessel lacked in cannon it had amply supplied in experience. The next shot from its bow shook the hull violently and was followed by a loud creaking and crashing. I could hear the desperate cries of our crew and it was clear they had hit our mast. We were dead in the water. A sitting duck.

Only now did the Avarice change course. It shifted from its direct frontal assault and turned to the right, moving to our stern, to our rudder, to our least cannon. Our guns made a few last futile attempts to engage her as she circled in for the kill. I was terrified. This pirate was ruthless and deadly and clearly had the better of us yet I could not help but be impressed at his capability to disable a superior adversary, as our vessel would have been in more capable hands.

I moved to the stern and looked on stupidly as the Avarice sailed perpendicular to us, readying for a broadside barrage. I don't know what possessed me to stare into what must have been ten guns pointed my way as The Grey let loose all the fury he had on our rudder and wheel house. I saw the bursts and the plumes of smoke as the cannons hurled their balls upon us. I turned and ran from the bulkhead but it was to late. As I fell over the bed I looked up to see the deck above me splinter and the beam which broke away coming towards my face. Then. ... Blackness.

I remember a blur. A haze of smoke and blood and screaming. I could hear guns but not the big cannons of the ships; these were pistols and muskets. Something else; the clank of steel. Swords and cutlasses clashed. The screams of death. I tried to move. The only thing heavier than the beam which pinned me to the floor was my own head and my eyelids, one of which was matted with fresh blood. That was the last thing I remembered of our ship. Then ... nothing.

I don't know how long I was unconscious or what happened in the interim. I awoke to find myself cleaned, the matted hair cleaned of blood. I felt fresh and well, though my head still throbbed a bit. I gradually became aware of my surroundings, first sounds. I could hear the creaking of a ship on the waves and their splash on the hull. I was aboard a ship, but what ship? Where? I was not coherent enough to speculate. Slowly I opened my eyes, both of them clear. No blood blinding one. I had been cared for by someone. I felt my hair on my cheek and it was soft and clean. I opened my eyes fully and looked around. It was a cabin, a large stateroom aboard a ship. I could see light coming from the windows with too much brightness to be a mere porthole. No, this was a captain's suite, or at least a VIP room. I scanned the room groggily. It was littered with trinkets, many artifacts, some quite beautiful, but it was chaotic, unrefined. I could not help but think it needed a woman's touch.

My confusion began to subside as a I gathered my bearings. Where was I? What had happened? What was this place? As I came to remember the answer was obvious. There was only one place I could be. I was aboard the Avarice and this was the stateroom of Captain Gaius the Gray himself!!

Suddenly I became fearful. I am not sure what I was thinking but instinct told me to move, to run. I rose up out of bed, or at least I tried to. As I tried to move I became instantly aware that my hands were bound, tied to the bedposts above me with silk scarves such as are worn by wealthy pirates. I struggled against them but it was no use. My wrists were tied together and the knot was tied to the head of the bed. I tried to move my legs and discovered that my ankles were also bound together. I looked down at myself, and while my body was covered by sheets of a surprising softness, also apparently made from silk (this pirate had taste), I came to realize that below these soft sheets which preserved my modesty I was completely naked save for these bonds.

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The picture is of Leif on Bellows Beach in Hawaii on the island of Oahu, in August 1989 when he was 14 years old.

An Invitation to Remembering Leif Readers

I have been writing this blog for over a year now. At the beginning, some of you shared memories or made comments, but only one or two, and they tricked off to nothing. I wished they had been main entries and not in the "Comments," and that more of you had been able to participate by sharing your memories of Leif.

Although I still have many photos of Leif and much to write about, I don't know how long I will continue the blog, though I think I will continue at least until the end of May; perhaps a lot longer; I just don't know right now. I don't want the time to go on until some of you no longer visit this site, or forget your own memories of Leif. I would like to be able to post some of your memories, and photos if you have some to share. If you would like to do this, please email your post and/or photos to me at jerri.garretson@gmail.com

I reserve the right to edit them, and to decide whether or not to post them. I have to put in this note because I know there are people who visit this blog who did not know Leif and may choose to email inappropriate things to me.

If you are searching your memory for what to write about, think about his interests, things you did together, what you thought of him, his sense of humor, work, military service, school, vehicles, etc., anything you would like to share about any period in his life.

If you send photos, please be sure that you are willing to give permission for them to be posted and that that permission was given by anyone in the photos; also, if you mention anyone by full name, that they give permission to be mentioned. Otherwise, please use first names only.

If any of you have stories you would like to share with Leif's family but not on the blog, if you send them to me, I will be grateful to read them and will honor your wishes.

I want to thank all of you that come back again and again to read what I've posted and see Leif's photos. I can't see who visits, only how many visit. I know that many visitors get here by "accident" through a search that somehow includes one of my keywords. For those who come to RememberingLeif that way, I hope you realized that my son, Leif Garretson, is not Leif Garrett, and perhaps found something else interesting, touching or profound.

I want to know that others are remembering Leif, too.
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These photos are self-portraits of Leif in his "new armor" for SCA, August 2, 2003, late the same summer he graduated from Kansas State University. They were taken in the living room of the house at 710 N. 9th Street in Manhattan, Kansas, and show the odd juxtaposition of his medieval armor and his computer screens. He was 28 years old. He would only live another five years.

Leif's Greek Battle Axe Necklace

I think it was in 1995 that Peter W. and I took a Greek Isles cruise. It was fascinating to visit the places we had read about in history books and seen in art history classes. Leif would have enjoyed it, as he was interested in history and the Ancient Greeks, but he had already left home and was engaged to and living with Nikko, so we didn't take him along.

We bought hardly any souvenirs, but I brought him this silver necklace. When I saw it, I just knew I had to get it for him. By this time, he had been participating in the Society for Creative Anachronism for several years and fought with battle axes.

It was a small thing, not a grand gift, but Leif really liked it. It seemed just the right symbol for him. He wore it often, and among his jumbled belongings, it was one thing, along with his class and wedding rings, I could always find. I've already posted photos of him wearing it. I only found two necklaces in his things. The other was a black leather circlet with a hematite "fang" on it. I gave that one to his nephew, Marcus, but I still have the battle axe. Since I gave it to him, I will keep it and wear it in his memory, remembering him as the warrior with the gentle heart.

He was 20 years old in 1995 when I gave it to him, and 33 when he died. His birthday is coming. That will be a hard day for me. On his Facebook and MySpace pages, he will have a birthday and be one year older, unless I remove the birth year from his profiles, but we will not have that celebration with him. It will be a sad day, and yet there will be happy memories among that sadness, because of the happiness we felt at his birth.

Leif's Antilles High School Class Ring - 1992

Leif had a fine eye for design and liked to have utilitarian items that were beautifully designed but he claimed that he "didn't see the point" in jewelry or other items that had no utilitarian purpose, even if they were beautiful. He rarely bought jewelry, except for the earrings he wore after our friend Jennifer Coffey pierced his ears for him, but there were a few notable exceptions.

He did want a class ring from Antilles High School in Puerto Rico, and we got him one when he was a junior in 1992. Although he had to move to Kansas before his senior year, he identified with his AHS class, and his graduation present from us was a trip back to Puerto Rico to be with his class there for their graduation.

Leif was not a neat person and his room or apartment were usually a big mess, except for his computer desk. The very few things that I could always find without any problem included his AHS class ring, and later, his wedding ring, watches, and a silver two-sided battle axe necklace I brought him from Greece. Although each of these could be considered jewelry (the watches, were utilitarian, at least), they had some emotional or sentimental meaning for him. More about the others later.

Beginning much earlier, Leif had a strong interest in ancient warriors and weaponry. One of the best school projects he ever did was a catalog of medieval armor he made in junior high school. When he picked the emblems for his class ring, note the medieval knight with the sword and the battle axe on the side. It went perfectly with the cupola from El Morro, one of the Spanish fortresses in San Juan, which we visited many times. Leif's initials L.A. are on the top of the ring and he chose a purple stone. Purple was always one of his favorite colors. I don't know why he chose to put L.A. on the ring instead of L.G., and I found it also interesting that he chose the L. because at that time he was still going by his nickname, Alex.

I don't remember when Leif stopped wearing his class ring, though I suspect it was when he went into the army, but even though he didn't wear it, he treasured it and kept it in a place where it could be seen, such as the mantle over the fireplace at the 710 N. 9th Street house in Manhattan, Kansas.

I wonder how many high school graduates could look at their class rings years later and see that there is such a consistency of interest that Leif's showed. From Puerto Rico, he went to Kansas and there he joined the Society for Creative Anachronism and had real swords and a battle axe and also the rattan variety that he could use in the SCA fights. I've already posted some photos of Leif fighting in his armor.

I now have Leif's class ring, and while it means something to me because it was his and represents him so well, I wonder, what am I to do with it? There are no children who could treasure a father's ring. Who would remember him with it when I am gone?

Leif - The GQ Pirate - April 1993 - Age 18

Leif subscribed to the warrior ethic and mentality, and he was fascinated with historical ages of knights, the Middle Ages, swords and swordplay.

When he was in his senior year of high school at Manhattan High School in Manhattan, Kansas (the only year he attended there), he discovered the SCA, the Society for Creative Anachronism. He joined and invented his character, a Viking pirate named Leif. He was called the GQ Pirate after Gentleman's Quarterly. Leif was a stylish dresser, often wearing a long brown leather coat and unusual clothing. His email address in those days was thegqpirate.

Initially, Leif didn't have the money for expensive armor, but he did put together his "garb" and this is how he looked during his first forays into the local SCA world. What a handsome pirate! And he exuded confidence and strength.

These photos were taken in the backyard of our old stone house in Manhattan, Kansas in April 1993.

The GQ Pirate Fights - Leif Garretson 2001

This is one of Leif's earlier SCA fights, in 2001, in the Manhattan, Kansas City Park. He loved the competition.

The GQ Pirate - Leif in the SCA - May 2001

Leif was an avid participant in the SCA (Society for Creative Anachronism) and his character was a pirate, Viking style. Here he is in some of his first garb in May 2001. He loved dressing up and fighting with rattan swords and other weapons in the Manhattan, Kansas City Park. More photos of Leif in the SCA will be on the way.