On day two of The Great Gathering, I took a break during a Sunday show to take inventory, cataloging all the bands and moments I'd captured so far. I'd hoped to photograph Chris Goeken the night before, but those plans had sailed away, so I sent a message to see if she was still around.
Lucky for me, she hadn't left yet.
She texted me what had happened. She'd taken a tumble down some steps and was getting around the grounds by golf cart. She also said she was wearing a cute nautical outfit. I hoped she was okay, but honestly, HONESTLY, after hearing that scenario, nothing could've kept me from tracking her down, checking on her of course, and... well, taking advantage of her misfortune. There, I said it.
For the record, she wasn't wrong about her look: iced foot propped on the dashboard, full sailor suit and all.
I miss Chris. Lots. She may not be keeping time for the Knee-Hi's anymore, but she'll always be my favorite drummer, the one who forced me to learn the worst lighting conditions the hard way because she was always worth the spotlight. Since her move to LA, she's left a huge gap in my regular shoots, someone who consistently delivered the most memorable frames at the back of the stage and in the front when she sang.
Her portraits always carried that signature spark, but the ones from their road trip to Champaign still stand out. Her playful expressions revealed her whole persona: that wide smile and crinkled nose, brimming with pixie charm and unbeatable charisma. I'd finally captured what matched her effortless selfies. Times change, musical leanings shift, but the Chris I meet in person, regardless of any secret identity, is mercurial, whimsical, and effortlessly cool, the version of her that anchors her in my memory.
I hadn't planned on being there day two, but I couldn't have been more grateful that Chris was still at the lake's edge. One of her stage names was Miz Luck 77, and for me that day, that couldn't be more true. Of course I'm still thinking of her foot and hope it's seaworthy by now. ⚓️