My father left an indelible mark on this world, and he profoundly affected many people. They seem genuinely moved by my father’s music and only want to speak to me for a minute or simply look at me, trying to find the resemblance. These can be very positive encounters, where the people I meet are caring and sensitive to the fact that the man they are speaking of is dead and the person they are talking to is his daughter. Pastorius isn’t a common name, so when my surname is made available, cashing a check or using my library card, there is a chance that I’m going to hear a “Jaco” story. There are things that I’ve wanted to scream, but I haven’t so, I felt obligated, and happily so, to write this piece. There are things that need to be said, and I’m not hearing anyone saying them. I felt strong and eager to have my reality, my truths, circulating out there alongside the misconceptions and miscellaneous bullshit that have been in existence long before my dad actually died. My initial reaction, when I was approached to write a bit about my father, was enthusiastic. You see, the words I am gearing up to write, speak of the most painful events in my life. I’ve been procrastinating, despite how much I know I need to do this. The following was written for and excerpted from the upcoming Holiday Park Records 2-CD release “Portrait of Jaco… The Early Years” companion booklet and was written by Mary, Jaco’s first born, back in 1994.
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