DAM Hippies

“We are nothing more than two people, two love-struck teenagers, who finally found each other and discovered how we complete one another in a magical and mysterious way that we will always be very grateful for.”

Miller and Debbie Harrell, Running Away Was Not an Option

Who do you think of when you think of a band? Many generally will name the lead vocalist first. After all they are the ones up front singing the songs, interacting with the masses, putting a face with the name. But, as we all know, there’s much much more going on behind the voice.

The music, the harmony, the energy and the beat all drive the song. Everything coming together to create the music we all hear, feel and yes, see. It is a team effort coming together in one singularity creating the chemistry that will produce the music we all love to experience.

That same premise exists within MAD Hippies Life. One stroke of the pen could easily have put an ‘ on the end of Hippies, giving the notation that it is our life. As many of you already know, there would be no MAD without the M or the D. Read more on our About us page if you haven’t already and you will quickly see what I am saying. For 37 years it has been MAD, it will always be MAD in the simplest of terms, as it began and is today, “We’re MAD!”

Why the clarification? Sometimes people just need to know. Sometimes they need to be reminded. Sometimes they just don’t know. Well, here it is. A duet if you will, making music in our own way, sharing it with the masses. We are two working together through life as one.

I wrote Debbie a letter several years ago that spelled out something in my heart that not even she really knew. That same letter holds true to this day. If I were to add to that letter today, it would include the gratification I have for someone that always goes beyond what is necessary and gives that extra helping of quality to a job done with the most thoroughness a person could possibly give. Debbie is always working to make sure everyone is taken care of, even the most menial task receives the highest of treatments. She always puts herself last, if at all. She has made more sacrifices than many would have made in several lifetimes to make sure her family was taken care of. Goals, dreams, aspirations always on hold for someone else’s needs.

When you ooh and aww at our photos, remember who it was that brought that imperfect exposure back to life, remember who it was that brought out the unseen details and who it was that gave the colors back their life. When you read this post, remember who it was that made changes making sure it is presented properly versus the grossly misspelled and erroneous grammar in which it was penned. When you see our rough edges becoming more refined in the details of who we are and what we do, remember who worked diligently to research the ins and outs of how we should move forward.

There is no doubt we are a team, I’ve always appreciated how well we meld together as a couple, as friends and in general as two people meandering through life together. I love how Debbie challenges me to be better. When you ask one of us anything, when you say something to one of us or when you speak about one of us, you are effectively referring to both of us. If you are in need, you don’t get one, you get both.

Yes, we are MAD. What I would like to let everyone know, see and understand is that just like a band, there is much more than the person holding the microphone. There is much more going on behind the voice. There is an incredible person, woman, friend, wife, mother, grandmother, photographer, editor and so much more who is not just behind the scenes, but equally in front working diligently to make everything succeed. Her name is Debbie, the D in MAD.

It could have been just as easy to be the DAM Hippies! Alas, we are where we are and love our lives together. Left to just myself, doubtful anyone would see much of anything. I’m not that sensitive of a person, I don’t really give attention where attention is due. One thing is for sure, if not for Debbie I’d have found myself either six feet under by now or lost in some lifeless abyss without a notion of what life really is. She completes me, completes MAD and makes us both better people.

In the end it will be just as it was in the beginning, an eternal proclamation that “We’re MAD.” Simple, to the point and as it should be. We are nothing more than two people, two love-struck teenagers, who finally found each other and discovered how we complete one another in a magical and mysterious way that we will always be very grateful for.

Peace,

MAD

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I am the Father of a Stillborn

I am the Father of a stillborn. There are times when we are powerless in our situations and find ourselves losing it, falling deeper and deeper into an abyss where there is little light and the feeling of being alone is quite overwhelming.

I am the father of three beautiful daughters, one of which was born still when we were mere teenagers. It has taken me 33 years to allow myself to even remotely think about dealing with it. Anger, frustration and the emptiness of not being able to at least hold her has haunted me for years. I suppose people move on, but the pain never goes away.

I grew up in a broken home. With no male figure to show me the ropes, I learned what I could from what limited exposure I had to my grandfather. The rest came from reading the encyclopedia, disassembling electronic components to see what made them tick, reassembling [some] of those parts to make new inventions of my own and lastly hanging out at the local natural science museum where I would find a passion for not only nature itself, but the details of what makes the cosmos go round.

Thank G-d for the Undersea World of Jacques Cousteau, Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom, NASA and an early appreciation for music.

Never being much for crowds, I was somewhat of a loner. Not necessarily an outcast, but perhaps by choice. I just didn’t feel comfortable around a lot of people. I didn’t get them and felt they didn’t get me. Though perhaps in their defense, I didn’t get me. I had no “group” to fit into and for the most part dissociated with society in general.

I never put much faith in political, business and religious leaders, much less anyone else in an authoritative role. Not as to be rebellious, I just saw contradiction everywhere.

Trust in humanity was not there for me. I watched, from a distance, and was confused at how people treated each other. To me, the world seemed a cruel and unjust place. I sunk further into my personal self and focused on the natural world. Animals, weather and the universe at large made more sense to me than the typical household union.

I saw patterns in everything from seashells to the planetary orbits and became intrigued by the notion that there was much more to life than what meets the eye.

I spent most of my early childhood this way. Doubtful most people who knew me even remotely knew the personal hell I lived with daily. I learned not to ask questions simply because I never received an answer.

By the time high school came around, I was a complete wreck. I was just sick and tired of society and was becoming more angry all the time. Nothing, if anything, gave me solace. What, if any, real relationships I had with people just seemed awkward. Spending any time in nature, even if that meant climbing a tree in my yard, was good. Music became my outlet and as soon as I could get a pair of headphones on my head I could just close my eyes and slip into a world of musical mystery. I learned the songs and replayed them time and time again, picking out an instrument to listen to at times, and at other times I just focused on the meaning of the song.

Indeed, between the melodramatic sounds of certain bands and the depth of the lyrics that seemed to ask the same questions I had, I had found a place where I could be alone in my thoughts and feel comfortable.

What came next would rock my world to its very core. I felt cold most of the time, emotionally. But when I first laid eyes on my future wife my heart and mind fought an overwhelming battle of wills. I didn’t want a relationship. But little, if any, resistance could be conjured up within me. It was if I had no choice in the matter. Once we talked, I knew we would never part. She was, in a sense, the female me.

Years later I wrote her a letter and said, “You were hauntingly familiar to me when we met. The closer we became the more I felt the sensation that this was not the first time. You were exotic, cosmic and strange, though somehow familiar as your soul, my soul, our soul, was reunited.”

However, as we would both would soon find out, life is full of curve balls. There are times when we are powerless in our situations and find ourselves losing it, falling deeper and deeper into an abyss where there is little light and the feeling of being alone is quite overwhelming. For reasons beyond our control, my wife [then girlfriend] was sent to live with her father out of state. Not long after, she called me and told me she was pregnant.

We knew what we wanted to do, but, being powerless teenagers we were told different. She was kept out of state, and I was told to stay away. I was 16, immature, clueless as what to do, felt I had no rights and certainly without support. She was in similar fashion. Nights and days went by and the walls began to slowly cave in on us both. If that weren’t enough, long into the pregnancy I received a call from her…our baby doesn’t have a heartbeat. It was born still.

To me that was the last link I would have. Somehow I just thought to myself, our baby was the only link we could ever possibly have, and now she is gone. We are gone. I am gone.

There are wounds so deep that forgiveness could never come.

I don’t recall much after that. Time came and went. Days, weeks, months passed as I sought further to dull the pain. I had turned to drugs and allowed myself to sink deep into an awakened coma. Lifeless, angry, numb and without any determination to care if the next day ever arrived, I maintained a very self-destructive pattern. I just didn’t care.

Did I do things I’m not proud of? Unfortunately. Would I go back and change some things? Who wouldn’t. I was young, immature and out of my mind.

The abyss I had sunk into was bottomless, dark and empty.

Every fear and concern that I had growing up for humanity had expressed itself in the most horrific way. I had nowhere to turn and no one to turn to. The only person I had ever given my heart and mind to was taken from me and our child had died. To this day I am jealous of my wife, if for one simple reason, at the very least she was able to feel our baby move within her, something I would never have the pleasure to know or see. Damn humanity for that, and for treating my wife in such a way.

I’m not quite sure how it even happened, but in time she did return and we did, somehow, get back together. We were both an intense train wreck of emotions, trauma and full of anger, pain and emptiness. 33 years later we’re still working on it. The pain never goes away, the intense feelings are still there as if it were yesterday.

We named our baby girl Shira, which basically means [having a voice], something she was never given for the cruelty of man and their madness. To this day we have no reason for her passing. Being the father of a stillborn hurts, I mean it hurts bad. Being helpless is tough, being helpless as a teenage father is tougher. Being the father of a stillborn and watching your wife suffer emotionally is impossible…there are no words.

My wife and I have each other, we love deeply, have had two more daughters, have become grandparents and live out our lives as if there is no tomorrow. Some days are better than others, but the emptiness remains, it will always remain and our questions will never be answered.

I’ve been told talking about our daughter will help. Thus far it hasn’t, doubtful it will. That empty feeling will never go away, I am the father of a stillborn. It’s something I’ve learned to live with, and [slowly] talk about. One thing is for certain, we have given her a voice and her story, our story, will be heard.

I often wonder if she follows us around, walking the trails with us, holding our hands and lying next us at night.

Peace,

MAD

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