So there is no confusion:
Last night Jerry Fuchs, our friend and our drum hero, passed away. Jerry accidentally fell from a freight elevator in Williamsburg Brooklyn and was not able to survive the intense trauma caused by the fall. Nick and I entered the building about the time the fall occurred. We found him in the elevator shaft. We held him and talked to him and went with him to Bellevue Hospital. Heartbreakingly, the doctors were unable to resuscitate him. He was pronounced dead at 3:33 am.
My last text message exchange with Jerry went like this:
Me: Gerard, will you be coming alone tonight or do you need a +1?
Jerry: I will b coming with my friend J tonight. Let me know if that's a problem. Seriously.
Me: Not a problem!
Jerry: Dude, I know ur list is tight. Let me know if you can't swing it and i will just buy a ticket at the door.
Me: Its fine! We got it
Jerry: Thanks dawg.
Jerry: Thank u, thank u, thank u.
This exchange was typical of Jerry: Always apologizing unnecessarily, endlessly thanking me for no apparent reason, relentlessly polite in a world in which manners have largely been replaced by irony and sarcasm. Of course you wouldn't assume any of this from watching him play drums.... He was terrifying. A machine. A beast. Uncivilized. Rude. A savant. When he got MIDI IN and MIDI OUT tattooed on his forearms I wasn't surprised in the least. In fact, I remember thinking, "Oh, so there they are!" - - as if Jerry had finally revealed the secret to his precision and syncopation.
Jerry was the star of every band he played with and will be painfully missed by those bands and a vast network of friends, family, and of course, musicians and music lovers, worldwide. My deepest sympathies go out to his family in Georgia.
Jerry: Thank you, thank you, thank you...