In Memoriam David Michael Pain

David Michael Pain
August 10, 1941 – May 20, 2018

By Moristotle

I never met Mike Pain in person. I first heard of him in the early 2000’s in reading Jim Rix’s account of Ray Krone’s wrongful conviction for a December 1991 murder in Phoenix, Arizona, and Jim’s involvement in winning a new trial for Ray, for which Mike did extensive private investigation on Ray’s behalf. This week Jim remembers Mike as “a unique individual, very good at his profession, private investigation” [which he chose in 1975].
    My first direct contact with Mike was a telephone call about four years ago. He knew of my involvement in editing Jim’s book, Jingle Jangle, and helping him publish it (in 2007), and he was calling to ask if I would read a novel he had written, to see what I thought of the possibility of its being published. I liked it a lot and I asked Mike if I might publish a few chapters of it in progress on Moristotle & Co., which I did on December 29, 2014, April 18, 2015, May 30, 2015, and August 31, 2015.
    The next thing that Moristotle & Co. did was announce on July 17, 2016 the availability in paperback of Frank O’Hara—The Last PI. Mike autographed the copy he sent me.
    That was almost two years ago, and “two years” echoes in my mind from something Mike’s widow, Judy, messaged me the week after Mike died (“after a long illness"):

He was never the same after David’s death. The last two years he had dementia and was in and out of reality. He said every day, “I’m going to start David’s book”.....and never did. It was like a Shakespeare tragedy. I think it was just too painful. Today I’m sure he has been reunited with David and made his peace. I’m positive that is the case.

I had probably first heard about David from Jim Rix not long after David’s death, in June 2010 (a newspaper account said he was 39). And I probably next heard of David in another telephone conversation with Mike, who wanted to turn to writing that tragic story. As Judy reported, he never wrote it, but when I interviewed Mike for Moristotle & Co. (August 24, 2016), he talked about it a bit, saying, among other things,

It is very difficult for me to talk about my son, who was 38 years old when he died. At the end, he lived on the street with drug addiction. He was in prison in two different states – one in Arizona and another in California. He was arrested on drug charges. He was a brilliant person and, when he was sober, he was one of the nicest people you could be around. Anyone who knew him would agree that Dave was a lot of fun and very well liked.
    When he was in prison, I would mail him three good books every month so he would have good reading material. I sent him all the classics. His favorite was Moby Dick.
    Unfortunately, he never got completely away from drugs. Toward the end, when he was on meth, he became very violent. As a result, one time he kicked in my front door and I was afraid of him because he had threatened to kill me on more than one occasion, so I intentionally shot him in the leg as he was attacking me. Instead of going to a hospital, however, he and his drug friends went to a motel in Mesa, Arizona, where he bled to death.
    I didn’t learn until later that, at the age of 11, he had been molested by a Catholic priest I had taken him to for counseling for his drug addiction....
    I’m still dealing with guilt because of how he died. I think it’s a story I have to write – for my own good, as well as for a memorial to my son....
    I haven’t come up with a title yet, but I hope it will be out within the year....

It’s impossible to know whether we might have needed to read this story, but it’s clear that Mike thought he needed to write it, and I can only imagine the suffering he felt daily knowing that he just didn’t seem to be up to the task.
     This week Ed Rogers wrote me a strong tribute to Mike the writer:

I have David’s book [Mike and David were both David Michael Pain – Sr & Jr]. I enjoyed reading it very much. His death is a great loss, he was a wonderful writer. A sad day when another Library has closed its doors.

    May both Davids, though locked outside that Library, yet rest in peace, and this be a memorial to them both.

Copyright © 2018 by Moristotle