Portrait of an artist

We know two things when we’re born: “I’m cold” and “I’m hungry.” Everything else, we learn.

—Randy Belmes

I don’t spend a lot of time with death. When I grieve, I get it over with and move on with my life. I haven’t much sympathy for suicide either, at least in the abstract sense. But when a friend commits suicide, the personal pain leaves me feeling very different. And when that friend leaves no explanation, it’s confusing and hard to know what to think.

On the morning of Oct. 12, Randy Belmes, 29, a stand-up comic and minor local celebrity, took his own life with a .357 caliber handgun. He left no note to explain this act to his family, friends and many people who’d been touched by his infectious, good-natured spirit.

Randy moved to Reno in 1986. He attended Reed High School, where he was involved in drama and the ROTC. After graduation, he joined the military and became a pig gunner with the 82nd Airborne.

Once back in Reno, Randy worked as a barback at the Silver Legacy, a bouncer at the Breakaway and superviser at Sunterra. He’d recently been promoted to food court manager at the Reno-Sparks Convention Center.

For the past three years, Randy performed as a comedian at local open mics. I had the good fortune of knowing Randy over the last couple of years. At first, he was just another guy hosting an open mic night at a local bar—as I myself was at that time I met him. We got to know each other well over the last 10 months, finding a lot in common: an obnoxious, twisted sense of humor, close birthdays, love of Star Trek and Dungeons & Dragons, drinks, dames and friends. It would be an understatement to say he was unique. He was a big guy with a big heart, a mind to match and a way of befriending everyone.

Randy’s suicide hit us all, hard. The following week was full of conflicting emotions for everyone. Over the course of that week, I attended a number of celebrations of his life. I hosted a full-on Irish wake at my house; Zephyr Lounge’s Artists’ Playroom cancelled its Monday show for the first time, opening the stage to the sharing of our grief; The Great Basin Open Mic Comedy had some of Reno’s best comics performing their favorite Randy Belmes’ jokes; and a memorial was held for him the Saturday following his suicide.

The number of people who this one man touched has been simply staggering. I’ve run into people I’ve known for years who, much to my surprise, had not only known him but had been friends with him. Everyone knew him differently.

Instead of composing an elegy of my thought and my feelings, I will simply let his friends speak for themselves:

“Randy was always wise, he always wanted to help people. … I guess Randy was too much of a man to let anything out, to talk to anyone.”

—Laura Gad, Randy’s mother

“No matter how depressed I was, that man could always make me laugh.”

—Jake Rorex, comedian

“I think he just gave so much of himself, he never took anything for himself. … He was one of the best people I’ve ever met.”

—Eric Stangeland, musician, Zephyr Lounge bartender

“I want to say thank you to Randy’s mom, for having him and having God put him in my way.”

—William Woods, comedian

“We got to know him here, like, nine or 10 months ago, and he was an amazing addition to our open mic night, and I miss him lots. And I love him, and I’m totally angry at him.”

—Jen Scaffidi, host of the Artists’ Playroom

“We all kind of felt like, ‘You quitter, you had so much going for you.’ … That guy was so damn funny. It was a great loss.”

—Jenny Spencer, friend

“Monday night comedy was always highly anticipated … by all those who knew the loud, crazy son of a bitch.”

—Lana Michitsch, friend

“He was supposed to get famous before he pulled a Farley-Belushi on us. And I really think he could have.”

—Josie Spadoni, comedian, co-worker and friend

“Randolph had ‘it.’ Could have sent him all the way to the top; he was that hilarious. …When he was onstage, you just couldn’t look away.”

—Kay Frazer, comedian

“I learned a lot from Randy; I took more from him than I could ever hope to give back.”

—Rick Shepherd, freelance computer geek

“He was really a very humble guy, when it came down to it.”

—Steve Jones, comedian

“Where’s the wheelbarrow he used to keep his balls in?”

—David Lockheart, comedian

“I think I was the only guy that got him with no rebuttal. I’d never seen that man stumped into silence. You had to be really serious about something to fool Randy.”

—Josh Driscoll, co-worker

“I will miss him, but he will never die as long as we let his memory live. … He’s one of the few who made us really live.”

—Jenn Wells, friend

“I met him right after I got out of college. It was a really confusing time in my life, and he helped me through a lot of stuff. He got me thinking a different way. … We had a conversation about what is the best attribute in a human being—loyalty, honor … you know. Randy’s answer was compassion, and he had a lot of compassion for a lot of people.”

—Mark Welker, friend

“Hug your friends, because you never know when that happy person among you is just going to be gone.”

—Rick Spagnola, friend and neighbor

“I love the man to death, I’m just pissed. He went out in the wrong style. There was so much more in front of him, for him. I had his back 100 percent. It was me and him against the world. Until he pulls this shit … now it’s just me and the world.”

—Brian Hansen, friend