Where is bradley nowells grave

In , one semester before graduating from California State University Long Beach with a degree in finance, Nowell dropped out to devote all his time to the band. By then, Sublime were well-known up and down the coast; from San Diego to Santa Barbara, beach towns were their turf. In photographs from this period, Nowell looks like the prototypical SoCal surf rat: sun-bleached hair, wraparound shades and Hawaiian shirts.

With his round face and easy smile, the cherubic singer gave off an air of bemused calm. But behind the mellow exterior, Nowell was troubled. Nowell battled with his addiction for most of the time Troy knew him, kicking when his record deal with MCA was in the offing, in , and again when Troy got pregnant a year later. But friends say he could never be comfortable without the drug. Perry Farrell and Kurt Cobain and all those guys did drugs, and Brad wanted to see what it was like.

Then they honestly begin to think that they write better music! S ublime were a party band. They were, people will tell you, lovable, but they were also, the same people will attest, out of control. They loved to get fucked up, they loved to fuck things up, and they had many ways of doing it.

Other times, the band would party too much on the day of a major gig and squander a golden opportunity. The band has been nominated for best alternative video. Dazed in the spotlight, Gaugh performs a little jig and mumbles a few thank-yous to friends and family. But by the time he met up with Wilson the next day in New York, the bottle looked too good to save.

Wilson, clutching a jet-fueled margarita, shudders at the memory. These days, Wilson and Gaugh start most mornings with a bong hit and continue smoking well into the night. It has the feel of a college hangout, with a revolving cast of characters lounging on the couches and chairs, beer bottles covering every flat surface, bongs on the end tables and three Rottweilers that bark viciously and gnash their teeth at newcomers. Wilson and Gaugh whose families lived across an alleyway from each other, have been friends since childhood, when they first started playing music together and surfing at nearby Seal Beach.

When punk bands like the Minutemen came to town, Gaugh and Wilson were always at the edge of the stage. Wilson played trumpet for a while but says he sucked at it and switched to guitar and then bass. When he was in sixth grade, he met Nowell. The two began playing music together before Nowell took off for Santa Cruz, to start college at the University of California.

The album, which the band released on its own label, Skunk, did well on a word-of-mouth basis. Gaugh attempted to reach out to his band mate — though often in destructive ways. So I was all things that I could be to him during that time. I tried to be his conscience; I tried to be his nurse. Not wanting to show my sudden uncomforted level I tried to tell myself that it was all in my head and I was just wigging myself out. Just then my boyfriend at the time who was holding my hand and going in front of me stopped looked at me in the eye and said "shhhh I knew it was pretty late and I didn't even know if the golf course was open at that time.

The whispers continued and felt close but sounded far away. We both agreed to keep going and see this thing through. After all what could the dead do right? Now this cemetery is one of the less creepy ones instead of having old withered headstones that rise above the graves all the headstones are on the floor so when you drive by it simply looks like a big empty field with lots of trees and a few mausoleums here and their.

The only statues to be found where purely decorative and for the most part during the day it actually looks like a beautiful garden which is why we thought a picnic would seem nice and romantic on a hot summer night. When we arrived to his gravesite we sat down to talk and enjoy our picnic.

However it stayed cold and an eerie fog began to cover the floor of the cemetery so that it looked like we where sitting in the middle of a huge cloud. As we talked and laughed and giggled I slowly began to let my guard down again.

Then it happened Slowly throughout the conversation my boyfriend at the time started to seem different and by different I mean his face looked different. He started to complain about getting sudden hot flashes but I on the other hand was experiencing cold flashes, really cold actually and something about his countenance just seemed off. Then he started talking about himself in the past tense and asking me questions about myself I knew he already knew the answers too.

I began to suspect that at some point I stopped talking to my boyfriend and started talking to someone else. The hair on my back was on end. It suddenly hit me, we where in a cemetery all alone at night where their was no one alive for blocks except us and I wasn't even sure if I was talking to who I had originally come into to the cemetery with. I felt suddenly scared and alone. Now I know that may seem like a regular conversation but it wasn't he kept talking about himself in the past tense as if he had died then coming in and out of consciousness as if he was being possesed.

His countenance would change and his voice would change and he would talk to me as if he was meeting me for the first time. Then he would seem like himself again and not be able to recall what we where just talking about. During one of these changes he looked at me and could tell that I was thoroughly creeped out, It didn't look like him it didn't sound like him it didn't feel like him but I wasn't scared of being harmed I was scared of what was going on.

I wasn't sure what was going on I wanted to believe so bad he was trolling me but the whispers persisted and started to grow louder and I couldn't stand the temperature finally I tell him I am done and want to leave, but I didn't tell my boyfriend I told the entity that was possesing him. He seemed a bit disappointed that I wanted to leave but understanding at the same time.

He tried to encourage me to stay and that nothing bad would happen but I could not stay any longer something was off really off and if I was being trolled I wanted it to be over and out of their. He held out his hand and said he would escort me out I couldn't help but think that it was someone elses hand I was about to take. I reached out and touched his icy cold hands. How can they be cold if he is complaining about hot flashes? When we where finally out of the cemetery I instantly felt a change in temperature again the whispers where gone and I thought "Thank God, finally I'm safe" but his hand was still cold and when we stopped at the car to drive away he turned around to look at me and to my surprise even outside of the cemetery and under a brightly lit streetlamp I could see the difference in countenance on his face still.

I major in studio arts, and light logic is a pretty basic understanding and study for an artist. The way that light falls on an object and cast shadows on the face is something that comes with a basic rule of thumb. ANYONE who has studied art can tell you this but facing a direct light source this guys face was entirely light on one side and shadow on the other.

It is logically impossible for the shadow to even exist in the way it did when facing a direct light source like the way I saw on his face that night. Years ago, so many fans carved messages into the original tree that it died and had to be replaced. A parade of joints, ounce bottles and magazine covers enshrine his headstone. People descend on the site to scrawl notes and prayers to Nowell on the curb nearby.

We often remember Nowell for how he died and the history he left behind. In February , doctors had to provide a little extra help for Brad to be born. I think [Brad] would be pleasantly pleased the way things have gone, and we owe it all to the fans.