In memory of all night phone calls and other nonsense.

Remembering Kurt

Kurt Joseph Muehlmann

TRAVERSE CITY, MI-Kurt Joseph Muehlmann, age 56, died February 18, 2018. Kurt was born on June 23, 1961. He graduated from Frankfort High School and was a member of the National Honor Society. Kurt received a BS Degree from Michigan Tech. His hobbies included hunting, fishing, and trapping, and movies. Surviving are his parents: William and Nadene Muehlmann, of Midland, MI; Sharon and Tom Curl, of Flushing, MI; sisters, Lauren Edwards, of Midland, MI; Jodie Chamberlin, of Bay City, MI; Jeanette Hunt of Killeen, TX; brothers, Jeffrey Muehlmann, of Madison, Al; James Curl, of Flushing, MI; stepson, James Cowell, of Colorado. And many aunts, uncles and lots of cousins.

How do I begin to write about you? Not a day goes by without you in my thoughts.

It was 1975. I was a lowly eighth grader. One of the first things I remember about eighth grade, well, school, was the cafeteria. Tom, Bored, Brad, Kurt, Pat and I sat together. I found someone I knew. I could sit with them and not be an outsider. 

It began in band class. You sat behind the flutes, you with your french horn and curly hair. A freshman. You kept stealing Elaine's health class book. But you got my attention. I invited you to the Sadie Hawkins dance. You said ok, but later you told me your grandma was sick and you couldn't go. 

Brat! You bailed on me to play cards with Brad! So I dedicated this song to you, especially the line about even making your grandma sick.

And so it began.

We  never really "went steady." You never gave me a ring. We just happened. Why you didn't kick me to the curb I will never know. I was basically a stalker! I guess you tried to get rid of me a few times. But I didn't see it. I honestly thought I was in love.

You were concerned and interested in a girl who was just passing through Benzie that first year. She and her mom were on the run, an abusive dad who had power and recognition as a state police officer. You cared. They had to move on, suddenly. I wonder if she knew how you cared? If they are still ok?

I remember long walks and cold hands. I remember seeing you on the beach down in Beulah, watching you at track practice, joining debate and forensics because you were involved. You moved. I stayed in debate and forensics, it was fun, and I made lifelong friends.

I got your phone number, probably from the phone book and not from you giving it to me. I would call you, going upstairs with the phone. If you called me, and you sometimes did, Mom would get this gleam in her eye and say dramatically "Its HIM!" You let me talk to your little brother sometimes
 My little boyfriend! Thanks for sharing him with me over the phone like that. I am smiling, just thinking about him.

We kept crossing paths. I know we did dance together at high school dances. We didn't go together, we would just meet there. You couldn't keep me away from dances. I believe you were the first one I slow danced with. We were each other's first in other ways...

When Dad went over to Milwaukee for the open heart surgery, I was home alone and pretty terrified about everything. I called you, kept you all night on the phone. You could have hung up on me and got some sleep, but you hung in there. Even though I had to keep waking you up. I cannot thank you enough for being there, all night, on the phone.

I could not believe that you didn't know I was the one who perfumed your car that one night so long ago until I told you. Saw you holding hands with a girl. Got steamed. I was a dumb kid.

You graduated from Frankfort, 1979. (You told me this song resonated with you.) I haunted you at CBs Deli. Oh, my goodness. I really miss that place, the burritos, pizzas, the jukebox...

So, I asked you to my senior prom, for old time's sake. I set up dates for friends from Big Rapids with classmates of mine, and we picked you up. We never were formal. I got you a boutonniere but you hadn't gotten me a corsage: you told me to pick one up. Miscommunications, earlier nights than expected, but this prom was fun. We matched anyway, me in a brown Gunne Sax dress, and you in a (gasp) tan leisure suit. Our only real date. It was laid back, Relaxed. No acting required.

We wrote to each other over the years. Well, I wrote. You did occasional cards. Emails were better, but still only every once in a while. Renewed phone contact. I was concerned about being a pest, a problem, but I guess I wasn't one. I was a mess for many years, and you still talked to me. huh. We both cared for the monsters, I guess.

You saved my life a couple of times. Once on a sub-zero February night when a stupid girl took a dare. So stupid. But I treasure that night, for the beauty of the frozen moon over Crystal Lake, for the silent walk. For the care you gave, only to have you abruptly kick me out to walk back to Frankfort before your parents got home. Oh my. I understand, and at least it was warmer in the day time than the night before! I looked like death warmed over. Or frozen over. Lesson learned.

Other times when the part of me that hated me the most was trying to win. I guess we had poor self-images in common. But, you said, does God call you ugly? Stupid? Fat? uh, no......

We talked about so many things. You were happy to see Tom and me married, you loved Jessica's art. You and I had discussions that were deeper than oceans, and we had talks that were pure nonsense.
You were smart. So smart. You went to Tech, for God's sake. Honor roll. Brilliant, Mr. Blue Eyes. You worked on that amazing airport in Colorado!

 I thought you finally were happy, with someone awesome. I am so glad I got to meet Teri. I still am not sure she was glad to meet me at first. I think we are good now.

This past couple of years, the changes you went through scared you to death. Cost you dearly. I thought you had died when you disappeared that one year, but you showed up and I got to talk to you at Mike's. So glad to see you!

But you were different, and this time, you did push me away. I don't know where your demons managed to find a foothold, but they did. And at the end, they were shredding you to pieces. Your heart was clearly broken, and you blamed yourself.

Ah, Kurt, I miss you. I want to hear you say "Egad" again and laugh that laugh. I wish we could talk.I hope you are peaceful in yourself now. Say hello to the others who left us before their time.