Thomas Marshall Rogers Meredith

San Francisco, 17.Dec.1967 ­ 27.Sep.1994

Hopefully invisible, I seem to be
The more I am seen, the less I see
Rolling down the road
With quiet speed
I ride in search of what I need
Where I'll find it
I do not know
It seems a place
I can not go
The more I say
The less I hear
It is through silence
The way turns clear

I look around
I have to say
That there must be
Another way
So many with haste to the hell of waste
So many ruts in the road
Bad religion False democracy
Indecision Rampant hypocrisy
Pollution Corruption
Delusion Destruction
Or the bottle pipe dollar job violent needle fuck.
What is the difference
Between the suit and tie
Black leather w/ spikes or trippy tie dye
Nothing but the actions and heart
Of the person inside
We gotta get life moving in other ways
Or be ready to say a real "Later days"
It's easy to say, and still harder to do
But there is a chance
I believe in you
So 4 more words I have to give
And they are these

Let the People Live
- Thomas

... Please excuse my lateness in writing. My name is Chris and I was a close friend of Thomas' over the last two and a half years. I was away at the time of the accident and didn't find out until a week later. I was in Washington DC then, which is where I first met Thomas in early '92. I was shocked and saddened and I stumbled around the area we first shared together, wondering how this could have happen. Thomas and I became friends very quickly; we shared many things in common. When I found it difficult to find work Thomas helped me get a job at his messenger company, Pronto, which I found really generous because business was slow at the time and the addition of me working there meant Thomas would be making less, and it wasn't much to begin with. But that was one of many great things about Thomas, he could give more than money could buy.

He scorned the material world and concentrated his thoughts on truly important matters. He really helped make my stay in DC fulfilling. When I returned to SF a few months later, Thomas had moved back here and we picked up our friendship where it had left off. We did all kinds of things together and I learned many things from him, and since his passing I still learn from him.

he was a spiritual leader for me. He always remained on the high moral ground and strove to elevate it more. He had a great knowledge of many different cultures' philosophies. One of his goals as he stated it to me a few times was to try and bring them all together, bringing them with their common threads with the hope that this fusion would help to unleash some of the great and positive potential of humankind instead of the primarily negative impact on nature we're witnessing today. Thomas was a great thinker in this way and he won't be replaced.

Thomas could be intense at the microcosmic level as well as the macrocosmic. Another idea of his was to organize the San Francisco messengers to start a fund among us with the long term goal of attaining some land near the city to start a small farm and art center. He saw this as a step, a crucial step, in a direction away from the day to day hopeless cycle many messengers find themselves in. And on and on, he was always searching for the enlightened way and he honestly care, a rare commodity these days.

I returned to a different city a couple weeks ago, and experienced the loss a second time. The streets have a hollow feel these days without Thomas. Still I am honored to have been close to the him at the end of his mortal life and I will carry his spirit with me 'til the end of mine.

Thank you for giving Thomas to all of us, he left a deep impression on myself especially. His greatness will not be forgotten and I intend to work towards bringing one or more of his ideas to fruition an dedicating it to him. I hope you and all your wonderful family that Thomas has told me so much about are in good health and doing as well as possible.

My deepest condolences,
 Chris Lowe

He was my brother... my only brother. He didn't want to be working for SFDS - we both know Russo was the reason Paul Littell died. Thomas had premonitions that being a messenger would kill him. I can't read the witnesses' statements about seeing him under the Muni bus. He fought back - he tried to stay alive. I remember when he had been hit and run by a cab that left him with a concussion. He was working at Omnicomp and had been taken to the hospital and escaped. I was riding at Pelican at the time and they gave me the day off to go try to find him. Luckily he made it safely back to the Mission even though his short-term memory was shot from the accident. I know that Thomas is in a much better place now, but I think about his last days and it just makes me want to cry. He was struggling... really struggling to keep a positive attitude and keep afloat. His good friend Lemonhead loaned him a banjo and Thomas was learning how to play it. He used to play Delta blues guitar back in Norman. At his funeral, our Episcopal archbishop (Tommy used to be an acolyte) played an acoustic version of Robert Johnson's "Come in to My Kitchen." He was one of the most intelligent people I'd ever met in my life, except for my dad - we used to joke that when you're a kid your dad knows everything, but our dad really *did* know everything - but he never had anywhere to apply his intelligence. Being a bike messenger was a waste of his talents. I really hope that he is at peace now and able to use all his talents to their fullest potential.

Dohiyu, Kanikata-dihi. Osiyu, Agido'i.
-America