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John Leech, rest in peace

Posted by Whitmore, March 20, 2009 10:00pm | Comments (9)
I’ve been sitting here all day trying to write something perfect.
 
I didn’t get much sleep. After I crawled out of bed on Thursday morning, out of nowhere, a heavy fog rolled in; but it made complete sense to me, it was more than a sign -- it was my destination. I was already there. The previous night I got the phone call I didn’t expect to receive for a while. I wasn’t at all prepared for the news: John Leech, the owner and founder of LA’s great arts hangout and bohemian cafe, The Onyx, had died.
 
John had no blood relatives, though he did leave behind a close knit extended family of former customers and employees who loved him as kin. I worked for John for some 14 years, and back then I saw him on a daily basis. Now that he’s gone I realize I needed to spend more time with him. Once the Onyx was closed in 1998, John retired and he started trekking across the US and Canada, often by train. Briefly John chased the idea of opening up another café, maybe here in LA or up in Portland, Oregon, but I think his renewed interest in travel got the best of those plans. While I bounced around the west coast, living for a while up in the Puget Sound, John was spending a lot of time in his cabin on the Russian River. I had excuses, but too many excuses. We’d get together for lunch or dinner every once in a while, but never as often as I wished we had now.
 
Though we were friends for some 26 years, there was so much I never knew about John. He was a man of many secrets. For example, I never knew his birthday. No one did. I once actually figured out how old he was; he laughed because he knew I’d forget it. I did. I swear with a wave of his hand the number vanished. John created a public space and even though he was the face of the Onyx, he was an incredibly private person.
 
John however, was truly an odd bird who stood out in the crowd of weirdly plumed eccentrics. Years ago he took to wearing Hawaiian shirts, but as the time went on he found it necessary to wear two, if not three shirts at the same time. My opinion may be a bit skewed, if not perfectly preposterous -- and why wouldn’t it be -- but only John could look so damned dapper wearing three Hawaiian shirts. No, he wasn’t batty, he just had a lot of Hawaiian shirts the world needed to experience. John was not exactly subtle but he did have an air of mystery about him. One part Bohemian, one part drill-sergeant, one part raconteur and muckraker, one part doting step-dad, he was a genuine man of the world. He hated bullshit, though a good bullshitter would be welcomed at his table. John had no patience for fools, but he knew when foolishness was a breath of fresh air. A few mediocre cups of coffee may have been poured at the Onyx now and then, but there was more pulsating life on that vibrant stretch of Vermont Ave than most any other part of Los Angeles during the 1980’s and 90’s. The cafe and the gallery next door was a genuine sanctuary from the volatile, irritating, confounding world outside. During the LA riots in 1992 John kept the Onyx open 24 hours a day so that the community had somewhere to gather and talk and be still. He believed in an unfettered creative experience, personal choice, personal responsibility, freedom of expression, the independence to live your life as you saw fit. And goddamn did he hate bureaucracy!
 
I would have to say John was not particularly blessed with many organizational skills -- trust me on that! -- somehow, either by luck, pluck or design, he created a home for hundreds of artists, musicians, writers and poets. The Onyx was a place where the odd, oddly beautiful or simply unconventional endeavors -- often excluded from the mainstream venues and galleries -- could find an audience and find a life. John’s support of the arts was an essential element of the café; he never took a percentage of the art sales and never charged at the door for music or theatrical performances. The bar-b-ques John concocted in the parking lot behind the Onyx and the champagne soaked art openings are legendary. We owe him so, so much; I am incredibly indebted to John. My life is so much better because of his efforts. At the Onyx I found life-long friends, direction, and most significantly, I met my wife there almost 18 years ago.
 
There is a votive memorial at the former Onyx location at 1802 N. Vermont Ave in front of what is now Cafe Figaro in Los Feliz. Another memorial is in front of the original Onyx location next to the Vista Theater at the Virgil Ave and Sunset Blvd intersection. Tributes can also be found on several sites on Facebook. There are tentative plans for a memorial service in late April or May.
 
John Leech in his own very peculiar way was a great man. He was a hell of a man, unique and one of a kind. People like John Leech don’t come down the pike every day; it’s a huge loss, I can’t even begin to explain it, I just can’t.
 
With our love, my love, rest in peace John.

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Onyx Cafe (3), John Leech (1), American Culture (94), Obits (63), Los Angeles (123)

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Comments

I just got off the phone with you, Michael... A beautiful tribute to a great man... :) I'll be traveling down there from Sacramento for the memorial service, whenever that will be... :) Anyways, I'll talk to you soon!!! :) Take care!!! :D :) *** Martha ***

Posted by Martha Packard on March 21, 2009 at 12:18pm

Thanks Whitmore!

Posted by L.S. on March 21, 2009 at 02:34pm

Beautiful Michael... I am struggling with what to say myself, it ain't easy. Got some words down, words flying thru my heart and head. In it's own way, it has been wonderful to be with everyone this past week on Vermont and at The Vista, the family that John brought together. The picture above of John with the mad look on his face and his arms wide is a pic I took of him trying to keep people out of The Onyx on Vermont for the opening for "Act of Kindness," Dr. Phil Eng, St. Theresa Stone and Katie Soljak all attempting to find room inside. It was only one of many, many wonderful Our Gang episodes held inside the walls of all three incarnations. Your Beat Night on Vermont was my son Spencer's first poetry reading. Two guys were joined together in one big sweater reading from Dr. Seuss and Spencer simply walked up, sat in their laps and listened as if he were at home; he was, we all were. From the first moment on. He was four years old then, just turned twenty one in December. Much love Michael, this really is a beautiful tribute to our dear friend. Much love to you and yours and everyone.

Posted by S.A. Griffin on March 21, 2009 at 08:48pm

Thank you for this Michael, this brings back so many happy memories of the Onyx days and of time spent with John. I think S.A. and I starting dating on a Friday and he took me to the Onyx on a Sunday, 2 days later, to make sure I could dig the place and the people too, and I was amazed! Let's throw a kiss to the stars tonight, out on the balcony, to John. love, Lorraine

Posted by Lorraine Perrotta on March 21, 2009 at 10:20pm

Thanks Michael. I don't know if you remember me. I used to hang out at the Onyx, even worked there a short time, had a band called Babooshka. I haven't talked to you in years, but Carole Kravetz told me about John, and I happened to come across your posting. I'm flooded with many memories of those amazing late 1980's, when my sister, Mia, and I both worked at the Onyx. The late nights with Mark Nickles, and everybody else. I haven't lived in LA in many years but hold that time near and dear to my heart. Please keep me posted if a memorial will take place. I'd love to be part of it. My e-mail is marksimms05@yahoo.com

Posted by Mark Simmons on March 25, 2009 at 01:43pm

A little Hello from Paris to the onyx community there... Excuse my english, I left the US some 20 years ago. Mark Simmons sent me the bad news this morning and it really hit me too. Thank's to Michael Whitmore (remember those great nights talking and arguing about history and politics?)for this great post. It brought back so many wonderful souvenirs... Jean , Jill, Tilly, Mark Nickles, Eric, of course, my dear Eric and my dear Mia, the three of them who left us so young, too young, David and so many others, with whom we shared so many hours rebuilding the world in the haver of peace and ideas represented by the Onyx in those Reagan times anonciating the triumph of a "new america" that we all rejected... I remember so well John, his good laugh, his great british bad manners with the people from the valley who would get lost in virgil street. His deep honesty and pudor... The way he was hiring everybody who needed a job... So many expressos over those 2 to 3 years I spent there... So many talks, so many ideas written on a piece of paper, so many encounters day after day with all those people who dared calling them artists and whose aim in life was not owning three cars and having a big house in beverly hills. Who dared trying to have a different life than everybody out there. I remember a young sixtean years old kid who had left his family and was a great graffiti artist, I remember one who became a famous mucician, another who started a great film carrer. The Onyx cafe was the house af all the artists, all the marginals, all the people who wanted to exchange ideas... In a way, it looks like John, to go this way... Rest in peace, dear John, and one thousand thanks for what you did for us all...

Aubin (lemhel@free.fr)

Posted by Aubin on March 26, 2009 at 01:22am

Dear Michael, That is a beautiful tribute to John. I agree that, for somebody who was so influential in my life, I feel that I knew almost nothing about him. I do know that with the Onyx, he created a safe space for artists, musicians and misfits of all stripes. I really can't imagine what my life would have been like had the Onyx not existed. John would never let you make a big deal out of his kindness. A small example was the way that he let me use the gallery side to practice my saxophone playing in the mornings before it opened. He knew that I had a crazy neighbor and couldn't practice at home. Whenever I tried to thank him, he would just laugh and wave me off. The last time I saw John was about 5 years ago in the back yard of our little house by the L.A. River. We had a going away party before we moved to Barcelona. It was dusk and there was a warm wind blowing in from the Valley. He seemed really happy. I'm very grateful for the little world he created for us on Vermont Avenue, in those waning days of cigarette smoke and "live conversation" before the coffee houses fell silent save for the sound of instant message alerts and clicking keyboards. David Brown
Barcelona 2009

Posted by David Brown on March 28, 2009 at 05:55am

The Onyx will always be next to the Vista on Sunset in my mind (but then, I'm always 23 in that small patch of gray matter as well). So many nights spent there drinking coffee, eating a fruit tart and talking,talking,talking.I can't ever remember John kicking us out to close.I'm sure he did more than a few times. I always had a secret hope that I'd drive by Vermont and it'd be there again,back from it's vacation. Thanks Michael, a lovely tribute. (great seeing you last month!!!)

Posted by T.Lane on March 30, 2009 at 03:54pm

Such a strange thing. I've been thinking about Mark Nickles so much the last couple of weeks. I just entered his name followed by artist & this article came up. Mark used to take me to The Onyx on our weekly/monthly visits...He was the only real father figure i ever had. Thank you. I remember so many interesting & smokey times. I even had a tape of Babooshka to listen to. Sometimes when something really funny or even really sad happens I want to call him. I am almost 40 now & older than Mark was when he died- and i still feel his quiet-sweet-funny-sad presence when I need it. Thanks to John for making The Onyx such a beautiful memory for me & so many others. This is a way for the ones we loved so much to live on in our memories forever.

Posted by bambi lee stroup-soeder on April 9, 2009 at 03:11pm

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