Sunday, December 2, 2007

You are welcome to express yourself here: please share your Joey Gatski story

Joseph Gatski, poet, songwriter, naturalist, beloved drunk, scoundrel, bighearted passionate and sometimes tortured spirit, truly beloved by so many, and absolute expert on all things wild in the Alleghenies, died at age 51 on November 27, 2007 at his apartment in Morgantown.

Joey left us poems, paintings, songs, and some unforgettable anecdotes. Please click "Post a Comment" below to leave a comment telling your favorite Joey story, or sharing a poem, or anything else you want to express. Please email me at justpeace at yahoo dot com if I can help you with this.

6 comments:

Jen M. said...

Thank you, Cat for doing this for Joe. I think he would love to read all the hubbub about himself. He really would have gotten a kick out of it.

I met Joe about 1996. I moved to Morgantown on
my 24th birthday in January to start anew.
There I stayed for only 9 months before I decided to make my way elsewhere. But what a nine months it was!

In that time amongst a number of other great odd characters, I met Joseph Gatski. He made such an impression from the first time I met him to each time there after. He was a great storyteller and was fantastic at giving so many facts about Mountain Life in West Virginia.
I loved the mountain rides we took with Joe. It was never a dull moment with him around. He could charm one moment and the next lash out on an unsuspecting victom! But he was always sweet to me... As I suspect he was with many ladies!

He once rescued me by chasing away a scoundrel who had entered my place. Joe happened to be over on an afternoon visit when this bloke entered; Joe came down on him with such Fury the poor kid ran away!

If there is a word to descibe Joe, I would say PASSIONATE with every thing he did. Even the way he talked. So gritty and deep, like a West Virginian Shane MacGowen.

What an amazing guy. I haven't even mentioned his poetry and music and bamboo flutes. It's been over 10 years since I've seen Joe. I am truly sad to not get to meet him again. He is a character I will never forget.
Jen M.

WV Peggy said...

Joe, Unlike most of the people who spoke at your funeral ceremony on Saturday, I don't remember when I first met you. Seems like you were always there, when I got to WV in 1982.

I appreciated all your creativity and what was in your heart, soul, and brain. We had a kinship, I guess you could say, mutual respect. I always came out to your poetry readings & book & cd releases -- they were "do not miss" events! I always enjoyed my rare Joe sightings, you uplifted my day each time. Nuff said.

I've made a memorial video of your Country Medley song, complete with sing-along words and photos of wild areas and wild friends. I hope you and yours approves. I hope to play it tonight at your Morgantown Memorial at 123 Pleasant Street. I know you'll be there with us!

Peggy Pings

Anonymous said...

i am alan martin and i live in preston co. part time having left w.va. for santa fe in 1993.i moved to morgantown in 1982 from new orleans via louisville and found myself working at maxwell's waiting tables and tending bar at the underground railroad for a fellow "old hippie",marsha mudd. i was a cityboy and i so much wanted to be a "real west virginian".so god sent me joey.being fairly forward in my wants,ipestered joey 'til he relunctantly agreed to take me fishing for "natives" in one of his fave and very secret streams.i recall telling some folks that joey was taking me to a stream of his and they were all duly impressed but warned me not to be surprised if he made me wear a blindfold as we got near the spot.wanting to do my part,i told joey i'd pick up some worms and pack a lunch for us.he said bring some pepperoni rolls and a few quarts of beer but we ain't about to tempt his proud west virginia natives with any worms born in canada!!i then learned of the many wonderful critters cleaning to the underside of stream bound rocks just asking to be put to the use they were born to.on our early morning hike to the stream,joey found a huge "mushroom" which he picked. he then set to drawing an invisible forest scene on the fungus with a quill from a crow feather laying nearby. we smoked as he worked and when ready to go joey set the thing under a tree for a later review. there was nothing visible drawn on the mushroom that i could see,but what do i know? we caught several trout and i was totally hooked myself.beyond some sea creatures i'd seen diving in the ocean,i had never seen anything so beautiful as the native brookie. we only kept the fish that we made bleed and having cooked them streamside the fresh taste was simply not describable. it was joey that turned me on to that wee little bite of trout from the "cheek". i've since enjoyed many samples of "cheekmeat",but never in joey's company again. on the hike out we stopped at the mushroom tree and joey showed me a most beautiful drawing/etching of a log cabin in a in the woods with a deer and a dog on either side of the house.the detail was so neat and clear as the mushroom dried further.i can see that thing as plainly now as 25+ years ago.and that entire day is just as clear to me as the drying fungus drawing was then. i only learned of joey's death last week as some friends were over for dinner. susan and sam were talking saying something about joey and his name caught my ear as i did'nt know they knew joey as well. as i listened they talked of his memorial and i just could'nt believe i was hearing it. susan looked to me and could tell i had'nt known joey was gone. i was so sad i could hardly finish dinner.ever larger glasses of red wine helped a lot and i know joey would've approved the self medication. so it goes,back in time to the last time i saw joey. was 2-3 years ago and i was just back from new mexico and i was riding my then new motor bike which was parked in front of that fake ali babbas place on high street. i was sitting in that picture window eating some fake ali babbas food looking at a really driving rain storm damned near washing that bike on down the street.joey walked by and was giving the bike a loving look while being totally drenched dressed in a hawaiian shirt and jeans. i grabbed and hugged on him for a while. i was so glad to see him,hear that whiskey&cigarette voice and groove on his one of kind and totally infectious smile! i'd heard that he was having it tough so i slipped him some money not really giving a shit how quickly he turned it into beer.he was happy and all i could do was buy him a little bit of that.joey took me under his wing and in many ways helped me to understand the basics of being in the woods and really BE there. i read a book several years ago titled"blessed are the addicts" which is now out of print. the book talks about folks that are addicted to thus and so are the real seekers of our world. i thought of joey many times while reading. i think joey was the most naturally spiritual man i've ever known.his place now is in the wilderness providing good nourishment for all the critters and plants and rocks that really need him now.i remain most grateful to hold a little bit of joey in my heart, now and forever, amen!! alan martin lee439@juno.com

Unknown said...

Today I found out that Joe Gatski is gone- 2 years after the fact. I first saw him around 1978 walking up to the "plaza" behind the Mountain Lair (in Morgantown) and I thought he was kind of loud and obnoxious, that was my first impression. But over time I came to like him a lot. He could be wild & out of control, but he was also very creative and a wellspring of knowledge: he was a good soul. About 1999 I was living on Clifton Run Rd. outside of Elkins and I happened to be outside and I saw this guy walking up the road with a pack on his back, and as he came closer I called out "Joey, is that you?" He said yes, and I am a bit ashamed to admit that I asked him "How did you know I lived here?" He answered "I didn't know you lived here." Me: "Then what are you doing, where are you going?" Joe: "I'm going to Little Black Fork, and then on to Otter Creek." That was like 12 miles up and over the mountain. I had 2 guitars so we sat on my porch and he played a couple of tunes he knew and I played along and we drank a beer or 2. Then I drove him from my house, over Shavers Mtn. & down to Shavers Fork, to the bottom of Little Black Fork Creek and we said goodbye. That was the last time I saw him. I'm sad that he's gone. (Hiking up Little Black Fork is very rough with little more than a fishermans trail at the bottom end, and the top end being a total bushwack- not an easy way to get to Otter Creek. But that embodied the character of Joe Gatski).

Diane said...

joey - I have just today learned of your passing. It makes a part of me die.
I met and spent time with Joey in the early nineties and off and on for years afterward, but with my living in Texas and he in W. Virginia, we drifted apart. He, of course would never leave West Virginia and I couldn't leave Texas, so time and space interferred. During those years we travelled a lot together, hiked, camped, made plans, and he showed me the beauties of his beloved place. The demons were ever present but his soul was light years above most others I have known. A truly beautiful person who understood the things that really matter in this life but yet could not live the way the world seemed to demand of him. The courage of his convictions, even at the price he paid. I always had the feeling that he was a misplaced person, having somehow born into the wrong time, and was haunted by it.
I have all of the poems and songs he wrote for me and the drawings he made. They are priceless to me and remind me of what was and might have continued to be, despite all the chaos of our lives. He was the most funny, loving, friendly, beautiful, tortured, talented, angry, tender and precious person I have known. I loved him very much.
He will never really be gone. Look around your West Virginia mountains and"cricks" and you will see him everywhere.
I miss you, Joey.

dhruva' said...

Hey, Joe, if you're reading this which I kinda doubt. I somehow don't think you're wasting as much time on the internet as most of us are. At any rate, Larry Bethany was here the other day and we were talking about you. Did ya hear us? Happy hunting, pal, and see ya on the other side. Or not.

dhruva'