In memorium. Caleb 'Shooter' Schaber. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caleb_Schaber)
Photo credit Matthew Ebert AKA Metric.
sent in by Kamikaze Kelly
Listening to Pink Floyd's 'Wish You Were Here' coupled with my current cover photo memorial for a friend from childhood has me in a place to write about Shooter. A 'Frenemy' first met on the Burning Man work ranch. It's been a few years since Caleb blew his neck off with a shotgun in Gerlach, Nevada and many, many mourn him in many, many ways.
Some good. Some bad. But not forgotten.
I remember clashing 02. I was the new guy, you were a rock star who had been there, done that. While in awe and envy, I was still me. We clashed. Dog Run defined us as much as Chupacabra Policia. I could not swear an oath to the Gerlach Sheriff that they fired rounds AT us, just...near us.
You always had a dark side, as we all do, but were fucking brilliant. Once, after sweet talking reputable newspapers in Nevada into credentialing you as a Journalist, you wrote words from Afghanistan. Some stories were damn good, but I will never forget the haunting sense of where you were really at writing a piece that involved living in the only bar in Kabul seeing a three legged midget on crutches and later that night throwing up bad chicken in a ditch. In Kabul. In a war zone. Living in the only bar in Afghanistan.
You ran for Mayor of a major city in the NorthWest. Broke your back jumping off a bridge on a dare or a bet. Worked for Burning Man back in the day when it truly was the wild, wild west and lived to die.
You are not forgotten, Frenemy.