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The BrotherHood

Sometime in the sping/summer of 1989, Jason Lindstrom and I got into this monster Bonneville I happened to own and journeyed over to the village of Woodhull, Illinois to visit a friend we hadn't seen in awhile. It wasn't much of a plan, basically we didn't have enough gas money to go anywhere else.That person was Liz Polansky and between her, Jason, and the random people that always show up in a person's life, the BrotherHood was born. About the name: it came off of a Bon Jovi European tour t-shirt that Liz's dad had sent to her. Go figure.Years later, dozens of folks coming in and out of the central periphery, we all still mostly get along. Being a member of the Brotherhood doesn't involve dues, and oath, or a midnight ritual - unless you count telling old stories in the light of the moon over a couple strong drinks a ritual. What does count is the attitude of belonging, forgiving, and listening. It's basically what friends everywhere do for one another - we just gave it a name.

A few pics for your amusement:


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