RENZ'S RIOT Race - Eulogy to Chris Renz....15th February 2015.
One
thing that struck me about last Sundays Tribute race to the life of Chris Renz
is that it did not seem like a gathering of Longboarders…no, it seemed like a
gathering of family members. Enormous respect people.
I would like to pay my respects to the original owners of this hill, Rob and Maga McWhinnie and Mitch Thompson.
Every
tribe has it’s elders and our tribe is no different. I've taken it upon myself
as one of the elders to deliver a eulogy to celebrate the life of Chris Renz. We've come from many parts and gathered to race in memory of, and pay homage to
a young guy who was a part of our tribe and who has left us so tragically….he
has left a hole in the hearts of all of us.
Chris
Renz would, under normal circumstances, have been here. But as we know, last
Monday, circumstances conspired to change the course of his life and the lives
of all who knew and loved him.
The
shock of that tragic skateboard run is still being felt all over the world.
It
would seem, that everyone in the Longboarding community feels like they have
lost a valuable member of their family.
Words
don’t help. There are no words that can offer solace or comfort. But it also
does no good not to talk about it…. It also does no good not to talk about the
cool and whacky shit that Chris did for this is a part of the grieving process.
It is
true though that while we mourn a death, we must also fittingly celebrate a
life, a life well lived and it would be totally disrespectful not to shine a
little light on the life of Chris Renz.
We all
have our own memories and stories of our time with Chris, but you cannot argue
that this blonde, laid back, curly - mop haired German guy was someone we all
called our friend.
Chris
left Germany a handful of few years ago and was travelling the world with a
backpack. He spent time in Morocco, Peru, Sri Lanka, Spain, France, Bali and
then came to our doorstep. He had skateboarded in Germany back in the day and
upon finding himself marooned with his shitty van, which by some strange
coincidence, he managed to limp and park at the back of a skateshop. He quickly
got himself the gear to get skating and did so whenever he could.
My
first meeting with Chris was a couple of years ago, and as luck would have it,
it was at Robbo’s skateshop. He had the aforementioned sketchy old van that was
out of rego sitting down the back and he was looking for a job. He was a fitter
and turner in the metal trade, and Robbo, being Robbo made some inquiries and
hooked him up with a job locally. So Chris was employed locally making custom metal fittings for lights.
He
loved Australia, he loved the beer, he loved the birds, the surf and the
skating and settled really well into life at Manly. The beach culture suited
him, the surf was at his doorstep and it was only a short ferry ride on
Thursday nights to meet the crew at Central for the ritual that is the Sydney
City Bomb Squad.
Chris
loved coming to Bomb Squad, his mates were there.
If you
have never been to BombSquad, please indulge me if you will. On our Bomb
Squad nights we would push from Maritime
Museum to the Pyrmont water hole and often I’d be beside Chris as we pushed
down Harris Street. We’d have a little chinwag along the way…talk a little
shit, how was your day, you been OK, how’s work…that type of thing – a bit of,
how is your daughter…Fuck Off Chris. We were doing just that one evening, just
a bit behind the main grommy BombSquad pack and someone across the road yelled
out “Hey, look at the old cunt on the skateboard!”. I said to Chris “Did you
hear what he called you?” Chris replied “What an arsehole, let’s go get him….he
can’t call me that”. He had my back….we laughed and we rode on.
I had
only been at BombSquad for a short while and had not done many hits of the
Opera House. Chris and I got separated from the pack. They were skating a
carpark next to the Police and Justice Museum near the Quay and Chris said
“Lets go to the Opera House”, “Cmon Bruiser, I know the way”. The observed
process for the SCBS is to walk
in through the carpark exit for about 150m then there is a doorway and a tunnel
you need to walk through that leads to the down ramp. Well firstly we didn’t
walk it, we skated down the ramp and nearly got collected by some dickhead in a
BMW. We didn’t go through the aforementioned door, we went past it, but he
knows the way, so we are all good. We then hit the beginning of the carpark and
push like crazy to get some speed up. Chris in front and me right behind, both
of us in tuck. The first thing that was odd was the direction of the arrows on
the concrete floor of the carpark we were bombing. The arrows were facing the
opposite direction to the way we were skating….a few seconds later the next
thing that was wrong revealed itself. There were headlights coming towards
us……Fuck, instead of going down the down ramp we were going down the up
ramp….let me tell you something for free, adrenalin is brown…I know. Good job
Chris knew where he was going. He gave a wry grin afterwards and said with a
half smile “Shit, I fukt that up”…..
Chris
had many mates from within the ‘Brotherhood’ of the Longboarding community and
they were regularly heading out in search of hills to hone their skills. These
mates now have a hole in their hearts that has been left open by a tragic turn
of events…that hole will never heal, but it will, over time, get easier. In
light of this it is incumbent for us all to close ranks and be there for those
who have been rocked by this tragedy. This shit does rock you, make no mistake
and one thing we do in our tribe is that we look after our own. You may not
want to hear this but I need to say it. If you are having any difficulty
dealing with this then for Christ’s sake “Soften the Fuck Up” and talk about
it. There is no indignity in admitting that this is hard to handle. If
necessary, Lifeline is only a phone call away.
Chris
will be going back to his home town, Geislinger, in Germany. He won’t be going
home the way that he had intended which is quite surreal and still unbelievable
and it is with a very heavy heart that I am forced to face the reality that I
won’t be seeing my little brother from another mother again.
Life
is so fragile, we do need to acknowledge that but I charge you all with the
responsibility, therefore, of keeping it safe. Do this for your parents…no
parent should bury their child. I also charge the O.G’s, the elders in the
tribe, to pass on the learning of our skate ancestors, to pass on the stories
and to pass on the responsible and good habits to the young guns. Young
guns….listen to the elders…that is not a guideline; that is a rule. You hear me
now, that is not a suggestion, it is a RULE. Listen to and learn from your elders.
A
minute’s silence or a minute’s rowdiness would normally be OK but what better
way to celebrate a life than to have the community gather at an annual tribute
race in honour of Chris Renz. To the organisers I tip my hat on a remarkable
and touching show of support for a young man who has left us all too soon.
The
brotherly love that you Skateboarders have so genuinely and unconditionally
given has pulled the community together to try and heal. This tribute race and
the outpouring from our community will surely be something Chris’s family in
Germany will be able to reflect upon. Perhaps at a later time, when their grief
has waned, they will appreciate that the love they had for their Chris was
shared.
Dudes..riders,
friend, members of my tribe…I wish wholeheartedly that your grief is short and
your memory long…
Chris
Renz, may you light up a fat one and may you forever Skate in Peace….
