Franz Innerhofer, a friend of mine, was found dead in his flat on January 22nd, 2002. Obviously he lay there a couple of days before his body was discovered. He had commited suicide, finally, at the age of 57. J. Birgfeld stated in his obituary that it was probably his biggest achievement not to take his own life when he was a child, instead taking the trouble to write down his story in the great trilogy “Schöne Tage”, “Schattseite” and “Die großen Wörter”. When I first met him, in the late eighties, he was becoming an alcoholic, broke but a kind and kindred soul to me. We spent many nights in discussion, his final destination already inherent in his words. I wasn’t going down his road, how ever much he tried to pull me with arguments so very well understood by me. Must have been the strenght of my youth that made me withdraw. But I shall keep him in my heart. He wouldn’t have gone to Nike Town, either…
Ain’t going to Nike Town, Son of Dave
Just wish you could have come to that Son of Dave concert with me, Franz. There are so many simple pleasures, even for people like us.
floatsome 