If you’ve lived in the Valley a decade or more, chances are you remember Fire & Water, a cafe in Northampton just off the main drag. The place had above-average vegetarian food, and a spacious yet subterranean vibe (it was situated partially below ground on the steep slope of Old South Street). It was a pleasant spot for sitting down to some grub, or catching music or poetry on certain nights.
Dig a little deeper into the story of Fire & Water’s owners, however, and things got interesting fast. Their story even made it to This American Life in 1999, because of a prominent element of the cafe: a “shrine” to Jesse, the son of owners Star Drooker and Trish Overstreet who died at 19 days old.
TAL contributor Sean Cole said, “Pictures of him, connected to white tubes, dotted the walls and beams. And his father, a musician, would perform a song at the cafe—weekly, as I remember it—comparing his son to a salmon, and to the messiah. And some of us, at first, though we knew it had to be hard, felt a little embarrassed for them, as though this tragedy had driven them a little crazy. I think it’s hard for us to know exactly what to do or say when we see public mourning like this, because we see it so rarely. The intensity of it is shocking. It’s too naked. And usually we think that if you hold onto someone after their death this way, you can’t live your own life. But clearly, you can.”
And indeed, Fire & Water and its owners seemed to generate a wide spectrum of opinions, united only in how passionately felt they were. Now, a decade after its closing, the cafe is part of the story of Star Drooker, Trish Overstreet, and their sons Rain and Jesse in the film Salmonboy.
The film’s producers—PJ Moynihan and Star Drooker—are not ambivalent about Fire & Water. In a prepared statement, the producers say, “Fire & Water was more than a cafe and performance space, it was a public forum for the community to express themselves—their loves, losses, and everything in between. It was a place of hope and endless possibility, and touched the lives of countless people before closing its doors in 2001.”
When you learn, in Salmonboy, about the genesis of Fire & Water, it becomes clearer why the place was a lightning rod for passionate feelings. In the film, Drooker says he had a dream about a woman he’d never seen, and the next day drove to Vermont and came across that woman, Trish Overstreet. The two, he says, came up with a plan over the next 24 hours: get married, open a cafe, have a child named Jesse, raise the child in the cafe environment for four years, close the cafe, then make a film about it. The cafe was only partly to be a restaurant, serving primarily as the couple’s public work of art.
When their newborn passed away, the nature of that public art changed. The cafe closed years later than the couple originally planned (and now Drooker owns Cafe Evolution in Florence).
In the film, thirteen years after Jesse’s death, Drooker undertakes a 19-day experiment in “intentional living,” an echo of his child’s life. During the 19 days, Drooker composes and performs a song and creates a Polaroid grid (a set of Polaroid images placed together to create a larger image) every day. His progress is intercut with old footage—including footage of Jesse, Drooker, Overstreet and second son Rain—and voiceover from Drooker telling the story of Jesse’s 19 days. The film is well paced, offering a combination of Polaroid grids, still images, interviews and a remarkable amount of old film footage.
At one point, Drooker talks on the phone, presumably to Overstreet, who had moved to the West Coast not long before. Drooker speaks about confusion and about gaining time, apparently for his film project. After he hangs up, he says, “I must follow my heart. Everyone must play their part.”
That statement is key. Salmonboy is a public document of very private circumstance. Early on, Drooker and Overstreet chose to follow their hearts, to go public in grappling with their loss. It’s an unusual move, a dramatic, even brave one. It’s also a move that carries with it that startling request: play a part.
Salmonboy is the request writ large. In it, Drooker and, to a lesser extent, Overstreet take the circumstances of their child’s death and examine them at very close range. In their statements, Jesse becomes an overriding presence and metaphor, even the embodiment of a highly individualized kind of universal mythos. That reach for elevating one’s story to mythic status, coupled with an explicit invitation to join in the vision, is likely to once more produce the kind of passionate opinion that Fire & Water inspired.
Salmonboy: A Story of Fire & Water: Feb. 19, 8 p.m., $10, Academy of Music Theatre, 274 Main St., Northampton. Tickets available in advance at Cafe Evolution in Florence.
