MY FRIEND IS GONE

Erin Graffy was more alive than most of us. Now she's gone forever

MY FRIEND IS GONE

Jim Buckley

Remembering Erin Graffy

It’s painful to think, to imagine, to realize, that I’ll never experience the joy of being with Erin Graffy de Garcia ever again. She passed away – surrounded by family – at Cottage Hospital at 2:54 am on January 21 after a frighteningly short bout with cancer. To say that she’ll be missed is a misnomer. Of course she’ll be missed. By anyone and everyone who ever met her. Whether it was her mischievous smile and blinking eyes or wagging finger and pouty lips feigning sorrow at some misdeed, she was a joy to be around.

She was, at 69, way too young to have left us so soon.

I’ll miss the movie nights we had, even during Covid, dinners at Crocodile with Erin, her husband, and other friends in our special booth, Opera and Hawaiian sunset cruises on board (and with) Hiroko Benko’s Condor Express. I’ll miss the Profant family’s Fiesta Finales where both Erin and her husband would be dressed to the nines in period Californio attire, and where they’d always be the last couple on the dance floor. I’ll miss watching the Christmas Boat Parade and July 4^th fireworks display with Jim and Erin from Hiroko’s patio overlooking Santa Barbara Harbor.

I’ll miss our telephone repartée: Erin usually answered the phone with a sweet “Hello” to whoever was on the other end of the line. Rather than responding with a perfunctory “Hello” or, “Hi, it’s Jim,” I’d give her – in a semi-officious voice – “Graffy, Buckley here.” “Oh,” she’d laugh, “Buckley huh? I’ll have my people get in touch with your people.”

Erin always stressed that her full name was Erin Graffy de Garcia, and that though her professional name was Erin Graffy, her life was entwined with that of her husband, Jim Garcia, a veteran (now retired) Santa Barbara School District psychologist. They had been married since August 25, 1990; it was a first and only marriage for both. They were partners in life, though Jim couldn’t have thought he’d be taking care of Erin as she passed away, much as he had done for Erin’s mom, Jeanne Graffy, some years before.

My very favorite memory of Erin is her sidling coyishly away from a lecherous Peter Clark as he canoodled her with Frank Loesser’s “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” on piano during a Christmas party at our house on Middle Road.

Mr. Loesser wrote the song for his wife, Lynn Garland, for a party at their home, and for a while, the couple kept it in their own repertoire and no one else’s before releasing it to the public.

The song might as well have been written for Erin and the late Peter Clark (a playful pianist par excellence who also possessed a pair of dulcet pipes). Their duet was sensational. Together, they were as good as anyone on any stage or in any film.

Erin begins by batting her eyes coquettishly: “I really can't stay…” she says, while shifting away from Peter; the two of them are sitting close to each other on the piano bench. … He responds with a devilish smile: “Baby, it's cold outside” and moves ever so close to her again. Erin pleads wide-eyed: “I've got to go away.” Peter responds earnestly: “Baby, it's cold outside.” Later in the song, when she raises her eyebrows and asks suspiciously, “Say, what’s in this drink?” she lights our house up with laughter.

I wish I’d had a video camera.

Erin wasn’t just an historian; she was also a lecturer, a Montecito Journal columnist for nearly two decades, and, perhaps most importantly, a singer, and dancer. She and Jim were consummate ballroom dancers; Erin was part of a small gathering who’d meet regularly in a Pierre Claeyssens-inspired singing group.

Jim Garcia wasn’t just a school psychologist. He was (and still is) an accomplished musician whose specialty is medieval and Renaissance music and instruments. Jim plays clarinet, flute, saxophone, guitar, banjo, ukulele, and mandolin, along with other instruments probably too numerous to mention. He’ll only use authentic period musical instruments, such as a lute or vihuela (Spanish lute) for his medieval and Renaissance gigs. He jokes that when asked, “Do you play Bach?” he answers, “Oh no, we don’t play any of that modern stuff.”

Erin was a woman with a thousand faces, all of them intriguing and all made complete with a dash of humor and soupcon of menace. After graduating from Pepperdine, she enrolled in Occidental and began studying conducting and orchestration, but she suffered a near-fatal car accident resulting in short-term neurological difficulties serious enough to have dashed her dream of pursuing a singing and dancing career, so she switched to a marketing and communications degree. Erin’s love of musicals, however, whether high school, college, amateur, semi-professional, or Broadway, never dimmed.

Erin loved (and seemed to know) everything about Santa Barbara. She wrote two clever and humorous books (in addition to half-a-dozen historical tomes) for newbies who’d just arrived in town and were looking for ways to fit into this peculiar culture. The “Society Lady’s Guide on How to Santa Barbara,” and its sequel, “The Advanced Course” are her two most popular books. Both are out of print currently but if you’re interested, you will find a used copy of “The Advanced Course” for sale at $87.94 on Amazon.

Jim Garcia has planned a remembrance for Erin that will take place at Santa Barbara Old Mission beginning at 2 pm on Friday, February 28. A reception at Rockwood Woman’s Club follows.

(Jim Buckley is Editor-in-Chief of SBCurrent. He is also founder of Montecito Journal and served as its editor-publisher from 1995 to 2019.)