In Memory of Derek

About 200 yards from where I stand right now is the first time I ever met derek. I was new to the school here and I didn’t know anyone at the time. I remember going out to the school yard looking around at all the other kids meeting up with friends and talking with one another. As I stood there I heard someone say “Hey, I’m Derek who are you?” I told him my name and we exchanged conversation and talked about similar interest and from that point on Derek and I were friends.

Derek was always a person that people gravitated toward. He made friends easy and those friends became friends as well. We built our group a few at a time and groups would hang out with other groups, sometimes together and sometimes separately. But the thing we all had in common was Derek. He brought us together, embaced us for who we were, inspired us to be creative and always had an open heart and an open mind. Derek loved an adventure, a social encounter, a funny joke, or a silly song. I remember us riding bikes together around town to get to friends houses or meet up at game hunters and when I rode my bike down a steep hill unexpectedly I could hear someone yelling “what the hell are doing!?” Derek had followed right behind me down that hill and without hesitation. Even to this day it makes me laugh thinking about it.

It may sound strange to say but I am thankful. I am thankful that I knew Derek and that we were friends. I am thankful for all the amazing experiences we shared, the memories we made, the people we met, and the fun we had. I am thankful that all of you got to know derek too and what a smart, caring, talented, and loving person he was. I think if he knew what an impact he had on others he would be so pleased to know that he brought so many people together and that so many people met through him and because of him we are all here together today. So again I am thankful for derek and I hope he has found peace now. Rest easy my friend, may you see your mother and sister again. I love you and we are all going to miss you.

I first met Derek Bowen Nehrbass at a comic book shop when we were around 13 or 14 years old. He was quickly absorbed into our friend group- we were 3 or 4 kids that liked to play role-playing games, read comics, paint miniatures, and collect cards. Most of us lived in the neighborhood where the shop was located, but Derek lived all the way across town. While the rest of us were biking a half a mile or getting our parents to drop us off at the shop, he was riding his bike all the way across Lafayette, sometimes during rush hour, and he liked to bike very fast without a helmet while listening to a Nine Inch Nails tape on his walkman. That was the first time that I realized Derek was cut from a different cloth than the rest of us.

As the years went by, our friend group expanded and began to center heavily around Derek. By then, his family had moved onto Twin Oaks boulevard and he lived in his Uncle’s old apartment above the garage where he inherited a massive supply of paperbacks.

Inside of that apartment, which would sometimes feel like a community center, we were all growing up while getting heavily into music and art, but I think that Derek spearheaded the growth of all the rest of us. He was constantly searching to find the most exciting moments, the most interesting books, the best music, the greatest films, and the most cutting-edge artwork to share with everyone. More importantly, you could always expect him to bring new people into the fold that would often become life-long friends. He’s the reason why our small friend group turned into a community and the reason why most of us in this room know each other. This was a thing that he did consistently for his entire life. He brought people together and he was often the catalyst for the development of deep, long-lasting relationships. He had a positive effect on more people than we’ll ever know.

In order to love people the way he knew he needed to, he required himself to live in the moment, sometimes to his own detriment, because he was constantly searching for meaningful experiences.

One day, in the summer of 1998 or 1999, Derek and our dear friend Shane had a spiritual experience that lasted for several hours. They printed out sheets of paper that said, “You’re here. This is it. Congratulations! This is it. You’re Here. Congratulations!” They handed those out to everyone that they came across during those hours, and it’s one of my favorite memories because they were both truly happy that day and I believe that Derek chased that philosophy for the rest of his life.

As an artist, he was phenomenal. He was trained in print-making, but his pen and ink work was some of his best. His artwork was a creative catalyst that guided many of our lives. Not only did he constantly push us to be better artists, writers, and musicians, he made the most beautiful hand-drawn flyers for many bands including my first few. Some people have told me that his images were the entire reason that they came to those initial shows. Without his images, my life would have unfolded differently. His images made us look cooler than we deserved to look and made what we were doing look like a culture that you wanted to participate in rather than the reality of what it was, which was just a bunch of guys standing around. Derek was a person who could pick up a pen and piece of paper and craft an image from his mind that would literally alter the course of another person’s life and set them on a whole new path. I know that’s true because he did that for me. And he did it while having fun, working hard, and being supremely joyous. His laugh was infectious, and if you ever got the chance to riff with him while thinking up puns, jokes, and generally engaging in wordplay, you know that he had one of the fastest, cleanest, and most creative minds you can ever have the pleasure to experience.

For years, his answering machine message was a robot voice who hilariously reminded you that “Brevity is the soul of wit.”

I had the privilege of working with him in two different service industry jobs, once at a barbecue restaurant, and once at a bar. He loved getting his friends hired at the places he worked, and he taught us new skills and new ways of working with others. I always looked up to him. He used to say, “keep your head out of the tip jar and treat people right.” I don’t know anyone else who could sit at the counter of a restaurant and take orders for racks of ribs or Pabst Blue Ribbon and turn it into a spiritual practice, but he did it consistently. He tried to make every interaction with each customer as joyous and connected as he possibly could, and it emanated out to the rest of the staff and all of the customers. He was adept at inspiring people to do the right thing because he truly cared. That’s a rare thing in this world. Here’s how he described his life in service in his own words, clipped from one of the early morning text messages that he loved to send his friends and family:

He said, “There was a pervasive feeling that we were doing something truly important and had an obligation to the droves of lost spirits thirsting for a taste of the eternal. We went about our menial work with a sincere purpose, knowing that were assisting in a benevolent and sacred act that would be lost on the masses, but fulfilled nonetheless.”

That was casual texting for Derek, because he was brilliant.

He was an explorer and a truth-seeker, but he knew that the truth isn’t always pretty. He endured the pain of losing his sister Amanda and his mother Jennifer, but he tried his absolute best to transform that pain into something more meaningful. And he was always going to make you laugh.

At his core, Derek Nehrbass was a deeply funny, brilliantly intelligent, and rare creative person that loved his family and friends with great intensity, especially his son Dougie. I believe that he truly loved us all. He made us all better people.

For years, Derek carried something in his wallet called a Pope card. It read, “A pope is a person who is not under the authority of the authorities. The bearer of this card is a genuine and authorized pope, so please treat him right. Good Forever.”