Eulogy for Ben Todd

Hello. My name is Whit Smith and I was a good friend of Ben Todd’s, as were a great number of you, and it is with great sadness and frustration that I address you today. We’re gathered here to celebrate and reflect upon the life of Benjamin David Todd, who was surely a gift from God to you, me, Nashville, Tennessee, the United States of America, and the World. Some of you have known Ben since before he was born, some of you only in recent years, months, or days. Some of you may have never met Ben, but were compelled to memorialize him because you knew his magnanimity, his larger than life persona, and were moved by the Zeitgeist he helped to conjure and sustain. Among the bristling creation of God, a great many are bound by locality, while some others are freed by the history and heritage of a place, and are then able to help others unbind themselves. Ben Todd was among the latter, a great emancipator of sorts. He welcomed and encouraged all: freaks, outcasts, punks, hippies, weirdos, kids, junkies, the hopeful, the hopeless, artists, shams, posers, winners, and losers. And he chose his hometown as his home base, at times opened his home to these friends and strangers and actualized a movement and environment that fostered the arts for all. And how Christ-like of him. And I don’t mean in a Ginsburg sort of way. Really, but with whom did Christ consort? Christ stuck around the general vicinity of his tiny portion of the Roman Empire and surrounded himself with and LOVED the despised, the half-way-there, the unclean, the confused, the weirdos, the punks, the freaks, the thieves, the prostitutes, the murderers, and the down-and-out. And like Christ, Ben started a movement and recognized that like himself, the freaks of the world are the most capable of good. Y’all know that now-cliché Kerouac quote about the insatiable ones? Well, that was him. And that is us: insatiable. And he knew it. Ben had a transformative power. He could turn a frown upside down. He could turn a mood inside out. He could literally turn a venue inside out. He could smite the weaktalk and bolster the courage. He could prod a band to greatness, splash water in the face of a sleeping community, and make magic happen.

Christ said “let the children come to me.” Ben did too. How many all-ages events did Ben create? And how rare is it in an age of pretense that a man should open up “serious art” to kiddos? Ben luv the keeds. I have so many stories that illustrate the person who Ben was, but that’s for later.

Ben was a rare bird in this freaky world. I am forever grateful that I have known Ben Todd, been apart of the special world of Ben, and to have made so many friends through Ben. I’m saddened that he’s gone, and I’m more saddened that he chose to leave. I don’t understand or condone his decision, but I do understand that God is good, and brings good from the darkest of times. So, pray, meditate, bang your head, and carry on the tradition that Ben so firmly planted; that of a father of a movement, of a natural son of the world, and of a spirit of the community. May we champion the freaky-deaky, champion the fun, champion the good. Goodbye Ben; we’ll always miss you and we pray that we stay forever young.