My name is Laura (Grissom) Tips and this is my big brother, my only brother James Michael Grissom. He was the oldest in a family of 7 children, of which inclued 2 sets of twins. My brother was talented, artistic, smart, funny; a strong tradesman who worked hard and loved just as hard. He was forced to be a man when he was just a boy and he did the best job that he could do. He LOVED motorcycles, and he built his own choppers. Much to my Mother's horror, he would take us (myself and my now deseaced twin sister Lisa) for thrilling rides on his handmade bikes when we were little. He also loved the sea and loved to sail. He loved to draw and paint and create with his hands, to play the guitar. He taught me how to tie my shoes and he taught me what good music was, like playing the Allman Brothers Band for me when I was just 6 years old. I credit him for Jimi Hendrix and Bob Dylan, too, but that is just the beginning. I lost my big brother in one disasterous whiskey-soaked night in 1986. I will never know what really happened; all that I do know is that I was robbed and traumatized. His killer was never caught.We had spent 13 years apart and had just started to get close again. But he is my angel now; my sweet, dirty-faced angel. I love you, Jimmy. You are my "Ramblin' Man" up in the sky. I will see you again, I'm sure.

Let's put a new coat of paint on this lonesome old town...Rack 'em up, rack 'em up and knockin' 'em down...Love needs a transfusion, let's shoot it full of wine...We'll laugh at that old bloodshot moon in that burgundy sky.......


Do not stand at my grave and weep. I am not there. I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glints on the snow. Sunlight on ripen grain. Gentle Autumn rain. When you awake in the morning's hush, I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds in circle flight and the soft star that shines at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry. I am not there. I did not die.


SHIVER ME TIMBERS, I'M SAILIN' AWAY......