Robert D. Palmer - From Misery To Hope
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- Book:From Misery To Hope
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From Misery To Hopeby
Robert D. Palmer and Kary Youman
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be used, reproduced, translated, stored in a retrieval system, ortransmitted inanyform or byanymeanselectronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwisewithout prior writtenpermission of rdplegacy or Tenth House Publishing.
Some of the names have been changed to protect theidentityandprivacyofthe individuals.Editing/Formatting: Gloria Palmer (movinonup57@yahoo.com) Published by:Tenth House Publishing1752 NW Market Street, #4419Seattle, WA 98107Website:rdplegacy.comISBN: DEDICATIONThis book was published for Robert posthumously, sowe dedicate this book to his memory and his desire totell his story.
We also honor the love and compassion Robert hadfor people whowere sufferingforanyreason,especially the homeless. Roberts desire was to makea difference in this world, and we pray this book willhelp to accomplish that.
We pray this book will encourage anyone who issuffering with a mental illness to come out of theshadows and get help, and to tell your stories. Younever know who your story will help.
The Palmer FamilyThisbookcontainsmaterialrelated to suicide,suicidalideations, and the graphicdescription ofa suicideattempt.
Dedication ................................................................................................iiiForeword by Howard McCrary ..........................................................vii
FOREWORDMy name is Howard McCrary. I am a Grammynominated musician, arranger, composer, singer, andrecipient of The ASCAP Duke Ellington Award. It was mygreat honor to be friends with Robert Palmer. Themagnitudeof hismusicalbrilliance isbeyonddescription. Our mutual friend Chaka Khan used todescribe him as "other", which meant out of this world.Robert had the ability to see and hear from beginningto end songs that did not exist. He could feel thegroove for Changing Faces, Time After Time, and ask,"Did you hear that, bruh?" If I said no, he would say, "It'stime for a Manny's break!" Then we'd hop into his sportscar and go to Manny's Delicatessen Bakery, to buy sugarless cookies. This alone would give us energy forthe next five hours.
I was introduced to Robert by Ms. Ingrid SundayWang. She hired me to co-produce a project with herand Robert. We had so many mutual friends and foundout we had many things in common, specifically ourmusical range. That's when I discovered what a geniushe was. He invited me to work on many projects withartists like Jennifer Love Hewitt, Sandra St. Victor, andmany more. We reached our production partnership'spinnaclewhen wecomposed,arranged,andproduced Chaka Khan's album, Come To My Housewith the Artist Formerly Known as Prince. We also cowrote a song Chaka called Spoon. Prince loved theway Robert played guitar and commented on hischord progressions, saying, He's sick with it!
When I moved to Hong Kong, Robert and I kept intouch. By then Robert had decided to switch careersand become a motivational speaker. His new goal was to mentor and inspire the future players in themusic industry. He later told me he was starting toreceive informationvibrationallythat would beconfirmed on the internet months later. In my eyes, hewasbecomingaprophet.Hecouldreadyourthoughts. I knew him too well to know that he was notjoking because I had experienced this phenomenonon many occasions while working in the studio withhim.
A little over a year ago, my ex-wife Tammy McCraryarranged a luncheon for us in Los Angeles. I had noidea this would be the last time I would see him. He toldme, "For your Parkinson's, Howard, keep taking theLevodopa you've been prescribed, and you will be justfine, bruh." Tammy hadnt told him anything about myprescription! That was our very last encounter.
I had no idea he had been diagnosed with bipolardepression. Robert was a private and proud man. He would never admit he was vulnerable to mental oremotional sufferingdespiteallof hisamazingaccomplishments. This was heartbreaking news to meand everyone who knew him. The next time a friendasks me for help or reaches out to me through theirsilent pain, I will be there.
Robert, we love you, and we will be there for yourchildren and family. Your music and your legacy willlive forever in our hearts. Thank you for all of yourtimelessly magnificent music and knowledge.
In loving remembrance,Howard McCraryIt was 10 p.m. on Thursday, December 31, 2020. Acloud of sadness came over me as I thought about themany familieswhohad losttheir lovedonestoCOVID-19. I felt blessed that my family and friends had survived this horrible pandemic thus far. My fianceand I had visited her father and we were on our wayto pick up food from the nearby Indian restaurant welove. I received an incoming call from my youngestsister while we were en route.
It had become a family tradition for me, my siblings, and Dad to connect every other Thursday at 6 p.m. viavideo chat, to catch up and check in with each other.New Year's Eve was no exception. However, Dadwasn't on the call on this particular night. Two weeksprior, hed declined an invitation to celebrate his sixtyseventy birthday with us because he wasn't feelingwell. We all knew he suffered from severe depressionand was diagnosed with bipolar depression years ago,so we were aware of his mood swings.
I had a strange feeling and couldn't imagine whyshe would be calling me back before midnight sincewe had just spoken. Maybe she forgot to tell mesomething. Was it a pocket dial? Either way, I had justenough time to answer her call before stepping into the restaurant to grab our food.
Hello?Without hesitation, she said, Dad's deadIt felt like a hot dagger was slowly being pushed intomy heart. I was at a loss for words. I told her I would callher back as soon as I got home. I walked into therestaurant to grab our takeout food order and slowlymade my way back to the exit. Before I could stepoutside the restaurant, the cashier said, Happy NewYear, my friend. We made it! I tried to smile beforewalking out the door, but I couldn't.
In the sixty seconds it took for me to get back to thecar, I kept asking myself, What else could I have doneto help him? Was it my fault? Why did this happen? I slowly opened the car door. I didn't want to kill the vibe, so I decided to wait until we were home to sharethe heartbreaking news. I told my fiance I had aheadache and needed to close my eyes for a bit.
My mind was going in circles. During the car ridehome, I thought about our first conversation and howmeeting him only two years prior had been a lifealtering experience. After one year of getting to knoweach other, mostly over the phone, he decided torelocate to Portland, Oregon (where I live), to start anew chapter in his life. On many occasions, he sharedhowmuchheloved livingin Oregonandhowcultivating a relationship with me and my five othersiblings was a dream come true.
His passion for writing and telling stories, and the hours of conversation we had about life, family, mentalhealth, music, and spirituality were the catalysts for thisbook. I didn't know, nor did I understand, how severehis depression was until he opened up and shared withme how he'd gone From Misery To Purpose.
I was born on December 19, 1953, in Cleveland,Ohio. My dads name, your grandfather, was RobertLee Palmer, and my moms name, your grandmother,was Ruthie Dell Palmer. She had five children from aprevious marriage. She didnt want me to be a junior, so she gave me the middle name, Donnell. My dadwas a train mechanic for the Pennsylvania Railroad. Hedied when I was two, and at the age of five, my twosisters, my mom, and I moved to Oakland, California.We stayed withourgrandparents,hermomandstepdad. He was a Baptist minister, so that meantchurch every Sunday. That was my introduction to Godand Ive remained a Christian throughout most of mylife.
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