Meadowlark - a film by Taylor Greeson

When I was twelve years old, my brother Charlie was murdered by a man named Frank Fuhrmann, I lost my virginity to a 20 year old man, and I was ordained with the priesthood in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. Meadowlark is an autobiographical documentary that explores these events and their aftermath. The film shares with others my unique journey into manhood and I hope that it will resonate with audiences living in an era of continuous cycles of violence.

Meadowlark comprises volumes of family photos, newspaper articles and legal documents regarding my brother’s death, and 16mm film shot in various locations in Montana and at my mom’s home in New Mexico. I talk with people involved in my brother’s homicide case and subsequent trial, families that now inhabit homes where I used to live, and my own family. The film culminates in my conversation with the man responsible for my brother’s death. This is a very personal endeavor; at times the subject material is difficult and painful to engage, but I am guided by a belief that confronting and talking about the horrible events that we experience is a way to help all of us understand those events more profoundly.

The breathtaking landscapes of my youth keep a multitude of secrets. Meadowlark exposes them. My hope is that audiences will see this film and leave the theater feeling as though they were invited into an intimate, personal story--a story that is remarkable, but not altogether foreign to the social landscape of America.

To get a peek into my process, I’ve included some thoughts, quotes, and ideas I have been jotting down or pasting in my notebook.

EXCERPTS FROM MY NOTEBOOK:

“Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy.” 2 Nephi 2:25, The Book of Mormon

“For as I grew to manhood I was inflamed with desire for a surfeit of hell’s pleasures. Foorlhardy as I was, I ran wild with lust that was manifold and rank, In your eyes my beauty vanished and I was foul to the core, yet I was pleased with my own condition and anxious to be pleasing in the eyes of man.

I cared for nothing but to love and be loved. But my love went beyond the affection of one mind for another, beyond the arc of the bright beam of friendship. Bodily desire, like a morass, and adolescent sex welling up within me exuded mists which clouded over and obscured my heart, so that I could not distinguish the clear light of true love from the murk of lust. Love and lust together seethed within me. In my tender youth they swept me away over the precipice of my body’s appetites and plunged me in the whirlpool of sin. More and more I angered you, unawares. For I had been deafened by the clank of my chains, the fetters of the death which was my due to punish the pride in my soul. I strayed still farther from you and you did not restrain me. I was tossed and spilled, floundering in the broiling sea of my fornication, an you said no word.”
--Saint Augustine, Confessions

In Joliet, MT a statue stands by the side of the road with his arms raised in the air, ready to pounce on passersby as they drive toward the snowy peaks of the Beartooth Mountains. When we were young, my brother, sister, and I called him the Scary Man. If we weren’t good, we knew he would come to get us. If you pass the Scary Man today you will see that he wears a peace sign around his neck. He wasn’t welded together to deter naughty children from behaving badly. In fact, he was built to watch over the road and bring good luck to the travelers who would soon find themselves on the winding pass leading up the mountain.

If only the Scary Man could have broken free from the bolts that kept him rooted to the ground. Perhaps he would have stopped my family as we drove toward Red Lodge. He would have told us to turn around and go home. But maybe that wouldn’t have prevented anything.

SUMMARY OF POST MORTEM FINDINGS:

1. Multiple sharp force wounds of trunk and extremities
a. incision/stab wound of left lateral chest
b. incision/stab wound of left flank
c. incision/stab would of right lateral hip
d. incised would of right long finger
e. small puncture would lateral aspect of right forearm
f. two incised wounds medial aspect of right forearm
g. bruising of right anterior shoulder and incision/stab would of same area
h. superficial scratch wounds of proximal right upper extremity
i. incised would of left wrist
j. incised of left thumb
k. incised stab would below left elbow
l. wound at base of right 3rd finger, dorsal
2. Resuscitative and therapeutic injures
a. midline incision of anterior abdomen
b. oblique incisions of right and left chest
c. incision of pericardial sac with sharp force superficial injury to heart
d. hemorrhage and sutures in right middle and right lower lobe
3. Relatively acute perianal and rectal injury of uncertain etiology
4. Post mortem toxicology: acetaminophen, caffeine, and nicotine all detected; ethanol not detected

EXTERNAL EXAMINATION

The body comes without clothing. There is evidence of resuscitation and therapy on the body. These include the following: There is a nasogastric tube protruding from the nose; an endotracheal tube protrudes from the mouth; an ECG electrode is noted on the right shoulder. There is a red stained dressing on a pincture wound of the right nect which is surrounded by ink (indicating a therapeutic mark); there is also a good deal of bruising around this lesion. There is a subclavular defect as well with a line in it. There are blood stained surgical dressings on the anterior trunk: These cover surgical inci-sions in left and right chest and midline abdomen, there is a metal stapled would beneath the right breast. It extends into the axilla. there is a vertical metal stapled wound running down the midline from xiphoid process around on the right side of the umbillicus and into the suprapubic region. there are plastic tubes sticking out both sides of the anterior trunk. These appear to be in the chest. More ECG electrodes are noted on the right flack. Some of the suprapubic hair has been shaved. There are multiple vascular access channels in the circumcised penis. Needle puncture marks are noted in the left inguinal region and a large area of bruising around these are noted. There are blood stained dressing on the upper extremities as well.

The body measures 69 inches and weighs and estimated 160 pounds.

The scalp is covered by long blonde hair. No injuries can be seen or felt on the scalp. The ears are unremarkable. there is some dried blood on the nose and face. The nose is not injured. the lips are lightly swollen. The teeth are natural and in good repair. The tongue does not appear injured.

The neck appears swollen on both sides.

“We tell ourselves stories in order to live.”
--Joan Didion, The White Album

I am now in Montana. When the plane landed I felt intense apprehension, like I was somewhere I didn’t belong. The city seemed dead. I went to Jorge’s and put my things in the room where I’m staying. I then went for a drive without any destination in mind. I ended up in Lockwood. Once I really started exploring, I didn’t feel nearly as strange any more.

I passed the refinery in Lockwood and remembered thinking that it was some sort of playground or strange amusement park when I was a child. I imagined roller coasters going from stack to stack, ridable conveyer belts, and chutes and slides. I also remembered being awestruck by the way it lit up at night.

Then I went by canary lane. How few things have changed. I lived here when I was 7 years old and now that I’m 24 the roads are still gravel. Although Billings is clearly growing, so much of it is the same as it always was. I wanted to visit every trailer I have ever lived in.

“I Ride an Old Paint” I’m not sure of its origin, but I first heard it sung by Woody Guthrie:

I ride an old Paint, I lead an old Dan
I'm goin' to Montana just to throw the houlihan,
Feed ‘em in the coulees, water in the draw
Their tails are all matted, their backs are all raw.

Ride around, little doggies, ride around them slow,
For the fiery and snuffy are rarin' to go.

Old Bill Jones had a daughter and a son.
Son went to college, and his daughter went wrong.
His wife got killed in a free-for-all fight
But still he keeps singing from morning to night:

Ride around, little doggies, ride around them slow,
For the fiery and snuffy are rarin' to go.

When I die, take my saddle from the wall
And put it on my pony, and lead him from his stall;
Tie my bones on his back and turn our faces to the west
And we'll ride the prairies that we love the best.

Ride around, little doggies, ride around them slow,
For the fiery and snuffy are rarin' to go.

I’ve worked in the town and I’ve worked in the farm,
All I’ve got to show’s just this muscle in my arm.
Blisters on my feet, callous on my hand
And I’m goin’ to Montana to throw the houlihan.

Ride around, little doggies, ride around them slow,
For the fiery and snuffy are rarin' to go.

Over beers the other day, I ended up telling Esteban a couple of stories about Charlie and the rest. The first that came to mind is Charlie’s funeral mix tape. The mix tape came up because Highwayman was on the juke box and I mentioned that it was played at Charlie’s funeral. Estie then asked me if I, “like, had a mix tape from the funeral or something.” I answered that at one time I did. Songs from the mix tape included: Photographs and Memories, Time in a Bottle (which was a prom song when my mom was in high school), Highwayman, The Dance, Fade to Black (a morbid request from my brother before he could have know that he was going to die), maybe All Apologies (although that might just be something that I listened to on my own because I knew Charlie liked it), The River (which, along with All Apologies, was definitely not actually played at the funeral), Angel Flying Too Close to the Ground (this might have been a runner up for the funeral, but it was definitely on the Charlie’s Funeral mix tape). Those are the songs I can remember.

I would listen to the mix tape and cry every day for at least a month after the funeral. Then one day I just stopped crying. I exhausted the tape. I was in the back seat of the car with headphones on and we were driving either to or from the Beartooths. I listened to it and just didn’t cry. I didn’t cry again for several years. Even when my Grandma died, I couldn’t bring myself to tears even though I tried. Same thing with my Aunt Vicky. I remember feeling guilty that I wasn’t weeping over their deaths because I was very close to both of them. When I did cry again, it was at the trailer in Lockwood, in the kitchen. I saw a picture of Charlie at Christmas and it dawned on me that it was the last Christmas before he died. Suddenly I was very emotional and I sat down on the kitchen floor and cried. After about 10 minutes my mom found me and then she got down on the kitchen floor and cried with me. I imagined that if Thatcher had been there he would have been howling with us, licking the tears from our face.