The Story of Terry Brogan....
(this is the first in a line of stories i want to work on about the people i met in utah)
Out west of the Moab desert, a good half hour drive from any other part of civilization, there is Wayne County, utah. A county of 2,500 people spread over 2,500 square miles of desert, farmland and mountains. Where as in the rest of this country, outsiders are treated as something to be feared, in this little secluded valley between Capitol Reef and Fish Lake National Parks, everyone is treated as though they are a member of the community. A helping hand is lent when needed, directions to a favorite fishing hole or two can be found at any local business, and all of the men of the area have their favorite fishing spots.
Here in this valley, i spent a year of my life. living, thinking, relaxing, all around just trying to exist. and when you are accepted as part of a community so well from the beginning, it gives you this feeling of duty, to be as kind and welcoming to all the tourists and seasonal guests of that great valley as the people of Wayne County are to all guests.
Terry Brogan is a legend in his own world. Upon first seeing him, you will not notice anything too special. short in stature (about 5'6 if the height strip on the door of the convenience store i worked at is to be believed) fit, with a head of wild, thin gray hair and a smile as big and bright as a crescent moon. His eyes are electric blue, piercing, but not in an uncomfortable way. and his hand shakes, his hands show the wear of years of hard manual labor and living out in the elements, when he grips your hand it is like putting your hand in a calloused vice, squeezing you not quite painfully, as it exudes warmth and trust in to you.
This is how i met Terry. He came in to the store, shook my hand and introduced himself as THE terry brogan. He smelled, not in the way a homeless person normally smells, but in the retching smell of beer on breath that i remember from my early teens. However, my natural reactions to label him as a homeless drunk and shuffle him through the door were thrown out, when he put a twenty on the counter and bought a phone card to call his daughters. I am fairly used to homeless people AND alcoholics, and i could definitely tell that this man was both, but there was something a little different, a shine in his eyes where most people forced to live in the elements only have a dull stare by the time they reach his age.
Terry camped on the hillsides surrounding the valley during the summers and retreated to a lower altitude during the winters by heading to St. George Utah, 3 and a half hours southwest of the valley by car. During the summer i spent there though, i would frequently run down the hill to talk to Terry on my days off, as he usually would take a morning landscaping job from whoever would take him on for the day, and then hang out behind my gas station for the afternoon heat to wear off as he drank his requisite 12 pack of coor's original a day.
During these times, i would do my laundry in the laundry room in the back of the gas station and he would tell me stories about his life. Lies? sure, probably, in the end i am sure that his life was not nearly as glamorous or star studded as he makes it seem, but who is to say he's a liar? I looked Terry Brogan in the eyes on a daily basis and was told every detail about his life before i left. And whether or not the facts are true, it is a great story and here it is.
Terry brogan grew up in pasadena california, born sometime in the 1950's (never gave me an exact year). He went to private school that was paid for by his fathers denim company, and had a mother and father who loved him very much. The turning point in his life came in the late 60's when he was riding his bike around the neighborhood trying to find out where a certain sound was comming from that disrupted his sleep. he road for half an hour around the area until he stumbled upon two other teens playing music in their garage. Terry sat down and listened and didnt leave for a decade. He hauled their equipment, gave constructive criticism on songs and even played his harmonica (one of his only true loves in the world) during a few live shows. Eventually, these two boys got a bassist and named their band "mammoth" (yes these two kids were eddie and alex van halen), At that point Terry would go to the shows and frequently talk to they guy running the sound for their events and convinced him to join mammoth with the van halen brothers. (really just a strategic move so they didnt have to pay to rent he P.A.) because terry knew that this guys father was a dentist and therefore had money to blow on a great band. and that is how david lee roth came to join van halen.
AFter they took on the band name "van halen", terry was dumped for a "real" road crew and people who "knew what they were doing", and having just graduated highschool with the draft comming up for the war, Terry decided to go to a little college in northern california where he was trained as a plumber and general maintenance man, and learned to ply the drug trade. He and his friends would grow marijuana plants in the hills in northern cali and drive it down south, making enough profit for terry to go do what he wanted for a time.
This is how he found the middle of nowhere in utah. He came out to utah with his money to join the "hot shots", a group of fire fighters who specialize in out of control forest fires. He lived off his money for a few years before he went back to california, and to find his love he met right after he left school before he came to utah. He went back, married her and had 2 daughters who now both reside in southern california with his ex-wife.
Terry felt the pressure of married life and providing for two daughters, so in addition to his plumbing business he chose to run cocaine up from mexico to be cooked in to crack (im thinkin this is late eighties) which he then got profit from. He was doing fine until he was taken to jail at the border with 25 pounds of marijuana and 25 kilo's of coke. The only way he did not spend the rest of his life in jail is because he agreed to rat out the people he gave the coke to for cooking in to crack for a reduced sentence. (a month previously the crack dealers had broken down his door and stolen his electronics, stash and threatened his wife and kids so it wasnt a bad ratting out).
After this, his wife left him with the kids. And instead of coping with a new life he did not want to learn how to live, he moved on to the streets, eventually making his way back to where he had spent time in his mid twenties when he had money to blow, back to the most beautiful welcoming valley in this great united states. He hangs out in front of Home Depot in St. George during the winters and ALWAYS finds work to survive, and during the summers he comes to Wayne county utah, to fish and camp and work the jobs that no one else will do.
A great man, with an amazing story and an unforgettable kindness in his voice. Whether parts of his story are false or the whole thing is bullshit, i don't care. He is a homeless man who has no regrets in his life. Homelessness as a choice of status. After my last summer with him, before i left i would go online and try and find proof of these stories, there is no proof (although everything he told me about how van halen formed was true) but i dont need proof, lies or not, he is THE Terry Brogan, and that is HIS world, if you ever find yourself staring eye to bright blue eye with a man whom you think might be Terry? then maybe you should stop, sit on the curb and just hope to be let in...
Out west of the Moab desert, a good half hour drive from any other part of civilization, there is Wayne County, utah. A county of 2,500 people spread over 2,500 square miles of desert, farmland and mountains. Where as in the rest of this country, outsiders are treated as something to be feared, in this little secluded valley between Capitol Reef and Fish Lake National Parks, everyone is treated as though they are a member of the community. A helping hand is lent when needed, directions to a favorite fishing hole or two can be found at any local business, and all of the men of the area have their favorite fishing spots.
Here in this valley, i spent a year of my life. living, thinking, relaxing, all around just trying to exist. and when you are accepted as part of a community so well from the beginning, it gives you this feeling of duty, to be as kind and welcoming to all the tourists and seasonal guests of that great valley as the people of Wayne County are to all guests.
Terry Brogan is a legend in his own world. Upon first seeing him, you will not notice anything too special. short in stature (about 5'6 if the height strip on the door of the convenience store i worked at is to be believed) fit, with a head of wild, thin gray hair and a smile as big and bright as a crescent moon. His eyes are electric blue, piercing, but not in an uncomfortable way. and his hand shakes, his hands show the wear of years of hard manual labor and living out in the elements, when he grips your hand it is like putting your hand in a calloused vice, squeezing you not quite painfully, as it exudes warmth and trust in to you.
This is how i met Terry. He came in to the store, shook my hand and introduced himself as THE terry brogan. He smelled, not in the way a homeless person normally smells, but in the retching smell of beer on breath that i remember from my early teens. However, my natural reactions to label him as a homeless drunk and shuffle him through the door were thrown out, when he put a twenty on the counter and bought a phone card to call his daughters. I am fairly used to homeless people AND alcoholics, and i could definitely tell that this man was both, but there was something a little different, a shine in his eyes where most people forced to live in the elements only have a dull stare by the time they reach his age.
Terry camped on the hillsides surrounding the valley during the summers and retreated to a lower altitude during the winters by heading to St. George Utah, 3 and a half hours southwest of the valley by car. During the summer i spent there though, i would frequently run down the hill to talk to Terry on my days off, as he usually would take a morning landscaping job from whoever would take him on for the day, and then hang out behind my gas station for the afternoon heat to wear off as he drank his requisite 12 pack of coor's original a day.
During these times, i would do my laundry in the laundry room in the back of the gas station and he would tell me stories about his life. Lies? sure, probably, in the end i am sure that his life was not nearly as glamorous or star studded as he makes it seem, but who is to say he's a liar? I looked Terry Brogan in the eyes on a daily basis and was told every detail about his life before i left. And whether or not the facts are true, it is a great story and here it is.
Terry brogan grew up in pasadena california, born sometime in the 1950's (never gave me an exact year). He went to private school that was paid for by his fathers denim company, and had a mother and father who loved him very much. The turning point in his life came in the late 60's when he was riding his bike around the neighborhood trying to find out where a certain sound was comming from that disrupted his sleep. he road for half an hour around the area until he stumbled upon two other teens playing music in their garage. Terry sat down and listened and didnt leave for a decade. He hauled their equipment, gave constructive criticism on songs and even played his harmonica (one of his only true loves in the world) during a few live shows. Eventually, these two boys got a bassist and named their band "mammoth" (yes these two kids were eddie and alex van halen), At that point Terry would go to the shows and frequently talk to they guy running the sound for their events and convinced him to join mammoth with the van halen brothers. (really just a strategic move so they didnt have to pay to rent he P.A.) because terry knew that this guys father was a dentist and therefore had money to blow on a great band. and that is how david lee roth came to join van halen.
AFter they took on the band name "van halen", terry was dumped for a "real" road crew and people who "knew what they were doing", and having just graduated highschool with the draft comming up for the war, Terry decided to go to a little college in northern california where he was trained as a plumber and general maintenance man, and learned to ply the drug trade. He and his friends would grow marijuana plants in the hills in northern cali and drive it down south, making enough profit for terry to go do what he wanted for a time.
This is how he found the middle of nowhere in utah. He came out to utah with his money to join the "hot shots", a group of fire fighters who specialize in out of control forest fires. He lived off his money for a few years before he went back to california, and to find his love he met right after he left school before he came to utah. He went back, married her and had 2 daughters who now both reside in southern california with his ex-wife.
Terry felt the pressure of married life and providing for two daughters, so in addition to his plumbing business he chose to run cocaine up from mexico to be cooked in to crack (im thinkin this is late eighties) which he then got profit from. He was doing fine until he was taken to jail at the border with 25 pounds of marijuana and 25 kilo's of coke. The only way he did not spend the rest of his life in jail is because he agreed to rat out the people he gave the coke to for cooking in to crack for a reduced sentence. (a month previously the crack dealers had broken down his door and stolen his electronics, stash and threatened his wife and kids so it wasnt a bad ratting out).
After this, his wife left him with the kids. And instead of coping with a new life he did not want to learn how to live, he moved on to the streets, eventually making his way back to where he had spent time in his mid twenties when he had money to blow, back to the most beautiful welcoming valley in this great united states. He hangs out in front of Home Depot in St. George during the winters and ALWAYS finds work to survive, and during the summers he comes to Wayne county utah, to fish and camp and work the jobs that no one else will do.
A great man, with an amazing story and an unforgettable kindness in his voice. Whether parts of his story are false or the whole thing is bullshit, i don't care. He is a homeless man who has no regrets in his life. Homelessness as a choice of status. After my last summer with him, before i left i would go online and try and find proof of these stories, there is no proof (although everything he told me about how van halen formed was true) but i dont need proof, lies or not, he is THE Terry Brogan, and that is HIS world, if you ever find yourself staring eye to bright blue eye with a man whom you think might be Terry? then maybe you should stop, sit on the curb and just hope to be let in...