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Last week, Bruce Springsteen and many others paid their respects to departed E Street Band saxophonist Clarence Clemons at a funeral service held at Royal Poinciana Chapel in Palm Beach. The Big Man passed away at age 69 a few days prior at his Singer Island home following complications from a stroke.
The service included musical tributes and speeches, including a heartfelt one from Springsteen himself. “I leaned on Clarence a lot; I made a career out of it in some
ways,” he said in a tour-de-force eulogy, which has been reprinted on the Boss’s website. The talk describes Clemons’ nonlinear approach to life, the “Temple of Soul” he created around him, the racism he faced, and “THE NEXT BLACK PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES EVEN THOUGH HE’S DEAD.” It’s an entertaining read, and something with emotional depth I’m sure we’d all like to have after we pass. Read it below.
FOR THE BIG MAN
I’ve been sitting here listening to everyone talk about Clarence and
staring at that photo of the two of us right there. It’s a picture of
Scooter and The Big Man, people who we were sometimes. As you can see
in this particular photo, Clarence is admiring his muscles and I’m
pretending to be nonchalant while leaning upon him. I leaned on
Clarence a lot; I made a career out of it in some ways.Those of us who shared Clarence’s life, shared with him his love and
his confusion. Though “C” mellowed with age, he was always a wild and
unpredictable ride. Today I see his sons Nicky, Chuck, Christopher and
Jarod sitting here and I see in them the reflection of a lot of C’s
qualities. I see his light, his darkness, his sweetness, his roughness,
his gentleness, his anger, his brilliance, his handsomeness, and his
goodness. But, as you boys know your pop was a not a day at the beach.
“C” lived a life where he did what he wanted to do and he let the
chips, human and otherwise, fall where they may. Like a lot of us your
pop was capable of great magic and also of making quite an amazing mess.
This was just the nature of your daddy and my beautiful friend.
Clarence’s unconditional love, which was very real, came with a lot of
conditions. Your pop was a major project and always a work in progress.
“C” never approached anything linearly, life never proceeded in a
straight line. He never went A… B…. C…. D. It was always A…
J…. C…. Z… Q… I….! That was the way Clarence lived and made
his way through the world. I know that can lead to a lot of confusion
and hurt, but your father also carried a lot of love with him, and I
know he loved each of you very very dearly.It took a village to take care of Clarence Clemons. Tina, I’m so
glad you’re here. Thank you for taking care of my friend, for loving
him. Victoria, you’ve been a loving, kind and caring wife to Clarence
and you made a huge difference in his life at a time when the going was
not always easy. To all of “C’s” vast support network, names too
numerous to mention, you know who you are and we thank you. Your
rewards await you at the pearly gates. My pal was a tough act but he
brought things into your life that were unique and when he turned on
that love light, it illuminated your world. I was lucky enough to stand
in that light for almost 40 years, near Clarence’s heart, in the Temple
of Soul.So a little bit of history: from the early days when Clarence and I
traveled together, we’d pull up to the evening’s lodgings and within
minutes “C” would transform his room into a world of his own. Out came
the colored scarves to be draped over the lamps, the scented candles,
the incense, the patchouli oil, the herbs, the music, the day would be
banished, entertainment would come and go, and Clarence the Shaman would
reign and work his magic, night after night. Clarence’s ability to
enjoy Clarence was incredible. By 69, he’d had a good run, because he’d
already lived about 10 lives, 690 years in the life of an average man.
Every night, in every place, the magic came flying out of C’s suitcase.
As soon as success allowed, his dressing room would take on the same
trappings as his hotel room until a visit there was like a trip to a
sovereign nation that had just struck huge oil reserves. “C” always
knew how to live. Long before Prince was out of his diapers, an air of
raunchy mysticism ruled in the Big Man’s world. I’d wander in from my
dressing room, which contained several fine couches and some athletic
lockers, and wonder what I was doing wrong! Somewhere along the way all
of this was christened the Temple of Soul; and “C” presided smilingly
over its secrets, and its pleasures. Being allowed admittance to the
Temple’s wonders was a lovely thing.
As a young child my son Sam became enchanted with the Big Man… no
surprise. To a child Clarence was a towering fairy tale figure, out of
some very exotic storybook. He was a dreadlocked giant, with great
hands and a deep mellifluous voice sugared with kindness and regard.
And… to Sammy, who was just a little white boy, he was deeply and
mysteriously black. In Sammy’s eyes, “C” must have appeared as all of
the African continent, shot through with American cool, rolled into one
welcoming and loving figure. So… Sammy decided to pass on my work
shirts and became fascinated by Clarence’s suits and his royal robes.
He declined a seat in dad’s van and opted for “C’s” stretch limousine,
sitting by his side on the slow cruise to the show. He decided dinner
in front of the hometown locker just wouldn’t do, and he’d saunter up
the hall and disappear into the Temple of Soul.Of course, also enchanted was Sam’s dad, from the first time I saw my
pal striding out of the shadows of a half empty bar in Asbury Park, a
path opening up before him; here comes my brother, here comes my sax
man, my inspiration, my partner, my lifelong friend. Standing next to
Clarence was like standing next to the baddest ass on the planet. You
were proud, you were strong, you were excited and laughing with what
might happen, with what together, you might be able to do. You felt
like no matter what the day or the night brought, nothing was going to
touch you. Clarence could be fragile but he also emanated power and
safety, and in some funny way we became each other’s protectors; I
think perhaps I protected “C” from a world where it still wasn’t so easy
to be big and black. Racism was ever present and over the years
together, we saw it. Clarence’s celebrity and size did not make him
immune. I think perhaps “C” protected me from a world where it wasn’t
always so easy to be an insecure, weird and skinny white boy either.
But, standing together we were badass, on any given night, on our turf,
some of the baddest asses on the planet. We were united, we were
strong, we were righteous, we were unmovable, we were funny, we were
corny as hell and as serious as death itself. And we were coming to
your town to shake you and to wake you up. Together, we told an older,
richer story about the possibilities of friendship that transcended
those I’d written in my songs and in my music. Clarence carried it in
his heart. It was a story where the Scooter and the Big Man not only
busted the city in half, but we kicked ass and remade the city,
shaping it into the kind of place where our friendship would not be such
an anomaly. And that… that’s what I’m gonna miss. The chance to
renew that vow and double down on that story on a nightly basis, because
that is something, that is the thing that we did together… the
two of us. Clarence was big, and he made me feel, and think, and love,
and dream big. How big was the Big Man? Too fucking big to die.
And that’s just the facts. You can put it on his grave stone, you can
tattoo it over your heart. Accept it… it’s the New World.Clarence doesn’t leave the E Street Band when he dies. He leaves when we die.
So, I’ll miss my friend, his sax, the force of nature his sound was,
his glory, his foolishness, his accomplishments, his face, his hands,
his humor, his skin, his noise, his confusion, his power, his peace.
But his love and his story, the story that he gave me, that he whispered
in my ear, that he allowed me to tell… and that he gave to you…
is gonna carry on. I’m no mystic, but the undertow, the mystery and
power of Clarence and my friendship leads me to believe we must have
stood together in other, older times, along other rivers, in other
cities, in other fields, doing our modest version of god’s work… work
that’s still unfinished. So I won’t say goodbye to my brother, I’ll
simply say, see you in the next life, further on up the road, where we
will once again pick up that work, and get it done.
Big Man, thank you for your kindness, your strength, your dedication,
your work, your story. Thanks for the miracle… and for letting a
little white boy slip through the side door of the Temple of Soul.SO LADIES AND GENTLEMAN… ALWAYS LAST, BUT NEVER LEAST. LET’S HEAR
IT FOR THE MASTER OF DISASTER, the BIG KAHUNA, the MAN WITH A PHD IN
SAXUAL HEALING, the DUKE OF PADUCAH, the KING OF THE WORLD, LOOK OUT
OBAMA! THE NEXT BLACK PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES EVEN THOUGH HE’S
DEAD… YOU WISH YOU COULD BE LIKE HIM BUT YOU CAN’T! LADIES AND
GENTLEMEN, THE BIGGEST MAN YOU’VE EVER SEEN!… GIVE ME A
C-L-A-R-E-N-C-E. WHAT’S THAT SPELL? CLARENCE! WHAT’S THAT SPELL?
CLARENCE! WHAT’S THAT SPELL? CLARENCE! … amen.I’m gonna leave you today with a quote from the Big Man himself,
which he shared on the plane ride home from Buffalo, the last show of
the last tour. As we celebrated in the front cabin congratulating one
another and telling tales of the many epic shows, rocking nights and
good times we’d shared, “C” sat quietly, taking it all in, then he
raised his glass, smiled and said to all gathered, “This could be the
start of something big.”Love you, “C”.
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