The Bridge of Fire Project for Burning Man 2009

One year ago on this day, the most painful fire that I have ever witnessed consumed my son’s body. It took place at a beautiful cemetary in San Rafael at the base of Mt Tamalpias. A small group of Donovan’s family and friends made there way to a place overlooking the small valley and the building where the furnace was being prepared. We held a Native American Ceremony. A very powerful young man who had known Donovan came to offer his blessings and prayers. We had gathered many small items that we knew Donovan loved to offer to the fire. We brought his favorite foods and some cigarettes. After the ceremony Kandy and I cut off some of our hair and laid in the prayer bundle.

Then, along with Jeremy and two of Donovan’s best friend’s, we made our way down to a place that was not much more than a garage storage bulding that also housed the furnace. His body was there in a cardboard box. He was dressed in a suit that he wore in Washington DC when he did a year long internship for Senator Tom Daschle. It sounds so trite, but he looked so peaceful. He was a handsome young man. I remember when the coroner called me on the day he jumped, he commented on how he couldn’t understand why such a beautiful young man had to go like this. Anyway, Jeremy performed a special blessing over the body and gave Donovan’s spirit permission to move on without regret.  Each of us in turn, said our personal goodbyes. I placed a long lock of his hair that he cut off and given to me before he had gone off to Washington. When he gave it to me, I did not know why or what to do with it, so I just put in my medicine box. When I asked Jeremy about it, he told that it needed to go with him into the fire. I looked at his face, told him I loved him and wrapped from the back of his head to his chest. He looked so beautiful.

The time had come. There was not going to be a miracle. His body was no longer where his spirit lived. There were last looks and shared glances between all of us. At some point, I had asked John,  the funeral director if he would allow me to put the box in the fire, and he said it would be OK. We wheeled it over to the furnace, raised it up and they opened the door. When open, it had the appearance of a an altar and looked like a kiln inside. I took a couple of deep breaths, and slowly pushed him into the fire. I looked at John and nodded. He closed the door and locked it down. There was a red switch. He pushed it. I could hear the fire and that was it. Ashes to ashes.

Even now sometimes I question the reality of this thing I am going through, but all I have to do is remember this act. This thing I did to close the door on his physical existence on this planet. It was a good thing for me to do. I will always remember his face on that day. At peace and telling me that he was flying free with all the ancestors who had gone before.

I am now making plans to take his ashes to Oklahoma which is ancestral home. This was his request. Then his physical journey will be complete as I place his remains at the place where my Grandfather, Walker Bark, is buried. As the entire year has been, this will be a difficult time. I hope to travel there with my brother to find my Father, and meet with a one of Donovan’s uncles who will perform the ceremony according to the medicine ways. In this way, his ashes will return to the earth in a place where many of his ancestors have gone before him. He will be home and the circle complete.