[ICYMI] Once We Were A Community. That's What Glen Hansard's Death Reminded Us

News of Glen Hansard’s shocking and untimely death pulled together a national and international community in grief and in the celebration of a life well-lived.

It had been a long time since something happened that felt raw and unblemished and apolitical. Something that united us collectively in remembering the beloved Irish troubadour, posting memories and fragments of his iconic songs and sharing the impact his little film Once had on our psyches.

For ONCE, this was not about Donald. And yet it was – because now, after a ten-year slow boiling frog experiment in which we’ve learned how to be divided and hate each other -- a coming together experience felt weird and refreshing and wholesome.

I always thought it would take another 9/11 to knit us back together – but I don’t believe that anymore. Donald would find a way to make what’s left of his base believe terrorism of any variety was carried out by crazy communist socialist antifa Blue-state Democrats. His House of sick-o-phants and his Cabinet footmen would amplify whatever lies he tells. The right-wing media would bullhorn the bullshit and his base would champ at any bit to distract them from the disemboweling pain of gas and grocery price gouging.

Recent deaths like Lindsay Graham’s and Charlie Kirk’s and Robert Mueller’s have been partisan lightning rods igniting online social and cultural media wars --- granted they were all part of the political class. But Hansard’s death allowed us to stop and take stock of his life and our own without Donald’s static. We spent days sharing our memories of the beautiful music he had made. We watched clips; some streamed Once again. And we attended his funeral – even if it was online or in snippets and met the woman who made a life of love and poetry and a son with Glen Hansard.

The funereal worldly gathering of luminaries and ordinary people sang “Forever Young” and jammed together, evoking that long forgotten “We Are The World” moment, when that title spoke to a borderless globe and time when we felt we had a responsibility to take care of one another.

Who was not reduced to blubbering tears watching Hansard’s wife Máire Saaritsa, small and elfin in stature, but larger than life in the glow of candles, recite her poem?

“Come to me with beauty, I require it to stay alive. I’m not talking of precious gifts, nor do I want a dolled-up, dutiful and well-assessed array of tender words.

“Hurl the clash of what you’ve pocketed from this day at my feet and then be brave enough to look me in the eye. Push the boundary of two minds til it stretches, til there are two bodies in one embrace, and a moment of understanding or acceptance, or blind faith and a sense of the infinite jump and jibe.

“That to me is beauty, and I require it to stay alive.”

Her words spoke of lovers finding the courage to stand naked and bare and vulnerable with one another; to be who they truly are, and how that honesty translates to the purest form of beauty. That’s how her words spoke to me. It’s how I responded to Hansard and Markéta Irglová “Falling Slowly” in love through music and kindness and trust – even though their circumstances skirt that perfect Hollywood ending. The Broken-Hearted Hoover Fixer Sucker “Guy” is broken because a woman he loved betrayed and abandoned him. Irglová is an unnamed Czech immigrant, “Girl,” a young mother and part-time flower seller. Both are musically gifted – he busks, she plays the piano – who get through the day. Until Girl persuasively pushes Guy to make a music demo – and the rest is not Hollywood history. Their love manifests in the music but the love affair is unrequited because Girl has a Czech husband who will join her in Dublin.

We saw the film in 2007 when it was just released. It was at a difficult time – we were parenting a difficult young child, adjusting to a city-to-the-suburbs transition, and dealing with complicated family dynamics and finances. Like any amazing film, Once absorbed us – “two schlubs from Brooklyn” as my husband used to call us – just trying to feel alive and awake. Creatives everywhere understand how life-affirming it is to find meaning through work or craft – and how gratifying it can be when that journey comes together through a partnership.

After seeing the film, we bought the soundtrack and played it on CD in the car a bazillion times. It became an anthem for pursuing love and poetry in each other and in the world around us. At the time, we hadn’t realized the movie had touched so many, though on May 19, 2008, we saw Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová perform as The Swell Season at Radio City Music Hall, shortly after winning the Academy Award for Best Original Song for “Falling Slowly” from the film Once.

I can’t believe that was nearly twenty years ago, though I’ll admit Hansard had fallen off my radar even though the street busker-turned-Oscar winner continued to busk, strum, collaborate and contribute worldwide with his musical gifts and his generous spirit.

The Broken-Hearted Hoover Fixer Sucker Guy never shied away from mending the hearts of those who felt broken and showing the world what pure intentions look like. I’m guessing that’s why there has been such an outpouring of love and sorrow over his motorcycle accident death. He always stood for the common man, the unlikely success story – because the character he plays in Once is not far off from his real-life story. In the song “When Your Mind’s Made Up,” Hansard is singing about the finality and frustration of a breakup – but he leaves the door open by saying he’ll coming running if summoned. This lyric speaks to the emotionally bereft times we’ve been shoe-horned into by poisonous politics.

Hansard is among the angels now, throwing us a bone. Once. We were a country that tried hard to set an example for the world. Once. We were a nation that celebrated our collective gifts. Once. We remembered how to rally together for the greater good. In death, Hansard brought us together for a moment. But it’s up to us to choose a path, however unlikely that might feel, that stokes a common sense of decency, dignity, and the sweet song and poetry embedded in our American experience.

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