Reese
I remember the night of February 4, 2016, so vividly. At the time, I worked as a photographer, and as St. Valentine’s Day approached, countless lovebirds flocked to the studio to take advantage of the holiday discounts on portraits. A radio station, which I loved that played ‘70s and ‘80s music predominantly always boomed from the speakers, but often, we only heard songs in spurts depending on how loud the clients and their families were. That’s how I can best describe hearing Sing a Song by Earth, Wind, & Fire that evening.
My groove lasted only a few seconds as I couldn’t put on a whole three-minute performance and lipsynch with customers in a session with me. Although I wanted to, I managed to hold my composure. About twenty minutes passed before I heard the radio over the crowd in the studio again. When I did, a line of recognizable lyrics grabbed me: ‘Do you remember the 21st night of September?’
Once again, I had to acknowledge and allow myself to feel the music, to feel Verdine’s bass and Fred’s drums thumping under my toes. To sing the melodic ‘baa-dee-ahh,’ that wordless excellence that EWF weaved so well in the fabric of their catalog; I thought it was fantastic to hear two Elements tracks so close together, and I didn’t think much of it as I snapped back to reality, as Marshall Mathers once said. However, there was something in hearing a third Earth, Wind, & Fire song within that hour that didn’t feel as good as the first two; nothing at all was wrong with the music, but something was wrong, and I didn’t know what.
By now, my session with a couple I photographed ended, and I excused myself and headed to the restroom. Rather than use it, I pulled out my phone, opened social media, and there it was: Maurice White, founder of Earth, Wind, & Fire, Dead at 74. In a panic, I searched for Verdine’s [Maurice’s younger brother and EWF bassist] Facebook page, and sure enough, a sepia photograph of Maurice walking away from the camera in the direction of Egypt’s pyramids at Giza stared back at me. The entire caption was a blur, but I remember Verdine writing that Reese died peacefully in his sleep.
My heart crumbled, and its remnants descended to my ass. My chest caved, and I lost my breath; immediately, I dialed my mother, my equal in Earth, Wind, & Fire adoration. She answered after the first ring and told me she had just found out; we said little words and tried to keep ourselves together, as I still had a few more hours in my shift to go. Once I finally left the restroom, I told my coworkers that I would take out the trash, there were dumpsters in the back of the building, but no back door to the studio. On any other day, the walk would have taken several minutes, but needless to say, I intentionally dragged my feet that trip because I had to get away, no pun intended.
As I rounded a corner in the back, a fiery sunset lay ahead of me; a sucker for magic or golden hour, I stopped and admired the vibrance of the clouds and how, at once, the sky was luminous and dusky. Somewhere between the air and closed eyes, I bid Reese ‘goodbye’ and thanked him for his creative and innovative contribution to the world and my life from childhood to the present day. Growing up a 90s millennial, I was 70s obsessed and still am; my mother happily shared EWF’s music, live performance VHS tapes, and documentaries with me; the band had me hook, line, and sinker.
Although I loved each member in different ways and reasons, something about Maurice stood out, and I gravitated to and identified with his spirit and energy. I saw pieces of me in him on some cosmic level as if celestial propinquity existed between us. Sounds strange, right? But, it’s true. I have wondered if some of that influence was astrological since our birthdays are the same week; thus, Reese and I share the same zodiac sign. But at the time in my childhood, when introduced to Earth, Wind, & Fire, I didn’t know what astrology or signs were, including my own or anyone else’s.
In any case, what I didn’t know then and do now is that Maurice White was one of my first teachers. Beneath his sonic instruction and leadership, I had several spiritual journeys, learning about the essence of love, which is God, and sharing it with others yet not forgetting about myself, to be ever wonderful in my own, sweet way. At the ripe age of thirty, I still take refresher courses, listening for the adages I know by heart in most, if not all, Earth, Wind, & Fire songs. Their opuses are healing, transformative, and I don’t think my life would be as radiant without the genius of Maurice White, his visions, inception, and the manifestation of his band.
Meeting him in person was a lifelong dream that didn’t come true; however, there’s always the next life on high, and once I reunite with my father and the rest of my ascendents, I’m beelining to the music section of paradise. Surely, Reese will be there.
If you’re ever in an Earth, Wind, & Fire mood, hop in the groove line with me and jam to my Elements playlist below on Spotify.
