Saturday night the news began to trickle in that Clarence Clemons had passed away. It was 4 hours until Father's Day and Big Man had gone to a resting place with the Big Man.
Bruce Springsteen has always had a special role in my life. I think most would assume my affiliation to him came from growing up in New Jersey and Lord knows I have heard enough girls with pounds of spray in their hair quoting Jersey Girl. But I never took tremendous pride in our being from the same state. My love for Bruce wasn't something that I developed from our geographic kinship but instead from my father, a native of Nashville, who was part of that elitist group who knew him before Born in the USA. A fiercely protective and loyal group of original Springsteen fans they pride themselves on being able to rattle off the concerts they have seen to the exact date and memories are marked by where they were when they heard specific songs for the first time. He was and is a part of this group and a love for Springsteen was inevitably passed down to me.
The first time I saw Bruce, I was a fifth grader sitting in a packed Giant Stadium for one of his first reunion concerts with the E Street Band. It's hard to believe now but I was so fixated on the lead singer it took me a few songs to notice the 6'4, dreadlocked, black man on the saxophone. That changed when they played the song that retells the story of their first meeting and "the big man joined the band." Their pairing was an odd one, an interracial band with the two most iconic members contrasting in appearance and style. In Clarence, I had found someone who carried themselves with a muted cool that resonated with the audience watching him. Clarence, Bruce the E Street Band and sports gave me something in common with my father. As I went through my years as a pain in the ass teenager, it was a resilient unifier that always would remind both of us, that our differences were from me growing into who I am as a person and were not inherent ones. We both had the same favorite band and therefore couldn't possibly be too dissimilar.
Ten years later, we saw the E Street Band together for the last time. I was a junior in college and I had grown into my father. Any differences we had were long gone and we sat through a three hour show and watched Clarence and Bruce operate with a sublime understanding that comes only from being together for decades. Our night ended with the two of us bailing my friends out of jail, and then at Waffle House retelling stories from the show we had seen that night and, inevitably, the one ten years earlier. I had changed, he had changed but Clarence, Bruce and the E Street Band had remained constant.
Bruce Springsteen will tour again and we will undoubtedly go see him. Without Clarence, the shows won't be exactly the same but I guess won't need them to be. I spent Father's Day at home watching videos of Scooter and the Big Man. I am technically an After Born in the USA fan but I was taught by an original. The songs will standout but the band will always mean more. Clarence will live on and his legacy will remain present in the memories from those two concerts with my father.
Happy Father's Day Dad. Rest in peace Clarence.
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