My friend Justin's brother wrote this.
When I was still in high school (maybe 16 years old), I was sitting around on a boring summer day with some friends. I don’t remember exactly who was there, but I am sure at least Adam Searls and Tim Dover were there. We were bored and probably doing something stupid and listening to music in Searls’ basement. Something about the music made me ask who it was that was rapping. Searls told me that it was this guy named Sam who lived down the street and I couldn’t help but think “there is no way that this guy is from West Virginia, let alone South Charleston” He told me he called himself Meuwl. (Country Meuwl the first time I heard about him.)
There was something about the way it sounded, even though it was a rough recording, there was still this unexplainable star quality to the beat and the lyrics, a drawing power. I heard one song, and I was hooked. Time passed, as time has been known to do, and the legend of Meuwl grew (At least in my head it did). My head was filled with stories of he did this or he said that and I had heard so many of his demos and rough CDs without ever meeting him that I believed he surely only existed in myth. Eventually, I became good friends with John, Meuwl’s younger brother. Through John, I eventually met Meuwl.
You know how some people say, “The man is never a good as myth,” or something like that. Well, in this case those people are wrong. None of the stories I heard did him justice. From the instant I met him, I liked him. Charismatic and funny don’t even begin to describe Meuwl’s personality. It was like he was so full of life he radiated it and by just being around him some of that life would escape into you. These first few times I met him were in passing. Crashing at his house when I went to Morgantown with John, once. Passing him in the kitchen of his mom’s house in South Charleston. Random encounters, that only helped to build the legend in my head.
Over the years, Meuwl’s name, to me, became synonymous with the West Virginia music scene. If a friend came to visit or I met a new person, they had to go to a Meuwl and B-Rude show. If I knew someone appreciated good music, then they had to hear the Rabble Rousers. There simply wasn’t anything like them around, and definitely nobody as talented. The legend in my head kept expanding. He became synonymous with music.
It wasn’t until years later that I actually became friends with Meuwl. I don’t know why, but I was surprised to discover how much depth he had. One of the only friends I have had that would wax philosophy or some abstract point of life with a beer in his hand. He wasn’t above the inane, as one might think, but that is part of what made him so fun to be around (Robot butt love springs to mind, if you don’t get it don’t worry it isn’t as bad as it sounds). While he might have had a little attention span at some points, when Meuwl talked to a person he made them feel like they were the only person in the room. He was a personality that couldn’t be denied, and it was impossible not to love him. His legend growing evermore. Even after knowing him for a few years, I still had this childlike hero-image of him floating around in my head.
Meuwl died, on Thursday, November 5th, 2009. When I was told, I remember thinking to myself, “This can’t be true. This has to be a joke or something.” The shock of his death, left me blank, stunned. The strangest thing was that the only thing I could think of was a line from the old Don McLean song “American Pie.” I thought, “This is the day the music died.” I didn’t think it was possible. He had seemed invincible to me. Charleston suddenly seemed like a very bitter and silent city. But it was true. While I am still having trouble believing he is gone, a part of me realizes that while the man might be gone, his legend will continue.
Those of us still here will never forget him. He was one of the most talented people I have ever met, and the world surely lost one of its stars yesterday, leaving the sky just a little more barren. But we can always remember what he did while he was here. We can remember how he made us smile, or laugh or how he got groups of metal heads to bounce to some rap. We can always carry the song of his life in our hearts. A person like Meuwl can never truly be gone, because he left such an impact on so many people. Our only jobs now are to learn to live again, and to strive to be as happy as he would want us to be.
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