The sweetness of Jeffery Joseph Meyers

A letter from Dan Rather after Jeff died

To the family of Jeff Meyers,

With heavy heart and many fond memories of Jeff, I want to offer my condolences and respect.

One never knows exactly what to say at times such as this, but I do want you each and every one of you to know in a personal and direct way that I care, and that you are very much in my thoughts and prayers.

Although none of us has ever met, because of Jeff I do feel that I know you. This is said in the sense that I knew Jeff, knew what kind of man he was, and thus know the kind of people from whom he came. Men of Jeff's character and accomplishments are rarely formed and developed without loving family members young and old as strong parts of his life.

True, Jeff tended to be a quiet man, at least he usually was when working, the only context in which I really knew him. But in many faraway places with strange sounding names, in hellholes and other datelines around the world, we sometimes spoke of home. I know from these conversations how much he loved his family.

I also know these things about him:

Jeff was an exceptionally hard worker and one of the best professionals with whom I have ever had the honor to work beside. He was talented and took great pride in always striving for excellence.

Over the years, in sunshine and storms, I have been honored to work with many of the world's best at what they did. Jeff, simply put, was the best of the best at what he did.

And he was brave. He was at my back and side in the war zones of Bosnia , Afghanistan and Iraq, where the real and present danger of possible death was constantly near. Through every nightmarish situation and there were many this man never flinched or faltered. When the pressure and fear were greatest, Jeff was oak and iron. He was steady, steely, focused relentlessly concentrating on what he had to do, and on looking out for the safety of others, including me. With Jeff around, you never had to worry about your back. He had you covered, and you knew it.

These things about him were in contrast to, and complimented, his gentle, caring side. He was wonderful with refugees, especially children, and was always especially respectful to women whatever their race, creed, or religion. He was a gentleman and no man, woman or child had to speak his language to know it.

My admiration for and appreciation of Jeff knows no bounds.

May God rest his soul. And to each of you, in these hours of grief and need, may He bring you peace and may you find solace in the sure knowledge that Jeff was a superb professional, a credit to his country and a man who brought honor to his family.

- Dan Rather

Alcoholism - My Friend Jeff Myers

My friend Jeff was remarkable. He was the room mate of a friend - and that's how Brian and I met him in the fall of 1969.

Jeff had a full voice scholarship to O.U. However, he eventually gave that up to sing rock and roll. Brian and Jeff started a band in 1971 - it was still going strong (without Brian) when disco became popular and the live music scene dwindled. Their name was XEBEC. Brian found the word in a dictionary.

Through the years - we partied with Jeff - we vacationed with Jeff - we played music with Jeff. He was ALWAYS part of our lives. Always. There is hardly a room in my home that does not have something from Jeff in it: a poem, a piece of Frankoma, framed art on the wall, photography... Jeff is everywhere in my home. I'll bet I have 50 photos of Jeff throughout the years.

I got mad at him many years ago. He'd drink and then take his "stupid" pills.... and on one occasion he not only let my dog out the front door several times, he also gave the dog a table scrap of steak with a toothpick still in it. THAT was it: now I'm perpetually mad at Jeff.

But, of course, life goes on... and about 1994 we hook Jeff up with Darrell - and Jeff becomes an audio tech like me. He travels to Bosnia. He's in the hole where they found Saddam Hussein. He was in Afghanistan right after the statutes at Bamiyan were destroyed. I have prints of Jeff's snapshots in the dining room. I keep kitchen utensils in a vase Jeff bought me at Pier One. There's a handwritten poem on the cork board right behind this monitor - it's there right now. Can you see it?

I have all these reminders of Jeff. And I'm STILL MAD. Still mad that such a bright light would extinguish itself so early.

I depended on him to cover for me in 2005 and in 2006. He'd run audio if it was a late night shoot. If it was in a bar where there was smoking. If I just didn't feel like it: Jeff would cover for me.

Then - things started getting weird. He was breaking up with his girlfriend.... No.. he wasn't breaking up - but she was moving out. He was robbed while walking home from Campus Corner. It happened again while visiting his parents in Bartlesville. He had a black eye. Another black eye. He couldn't find the address of the shoot. "Jeff? It's RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER, DAMNIT. TURN LEFT! SEE MY CAR?"

He died August 8, 2006 after spending several days on life support. He'd been taking sedatives and washing them down with liquor. When he fell - it was a simple fall in the living room. And such a common occurrence that his girlfriend didn't stop to check on him. She stepped right over his body and walked into his kitchen to check to see if he had enough groceries. He didn't. So she stepped back over him and went to the store.