Lief Kamhout-Freer

On April 15th at 1am, Lief Kamhout-Freer, 32, passed away in his home on Carberry Creek. His memorial was held  April 29th, 2023 at noon in Lithia Park in Ashland, Oregon. 

Lief spent his previous life in an old growth forest as a mammoth-antlered Stag, who desired to reincarnate as a mortal man. He was birthed at a hospital in the Rogue Valley to teenage Deadhead parents who ensured that he saw Jerry at least two times. The result of this was that he never enjoyed the Grateful Dead, though he always appreciated a dynamic mosh pit. A three month spell in Israel inspired an affection for God, Allah and proper garlic infused falafel. With a scuba tank under the Red Sea, he communed with dolphins at the age of 15. Returning home, he found himself circling camp fires donned in a loin cloth and body paint, twirling 'round with this familiar parable. With his brother on Tool tour in 2006 through British Columbia, he was spinning, weaving 'round each new experience, celebrating this chance to be alive and breathing.

Once matured as a human in this world, he found solace in flamingo ranching, attracting the flamboyance with a shallow pond, plantings of sunflowers & lupine and glittering unicorn pool floaties. He was still training his bird herding shepherd, Fen, who had no fear of people but was still relatively shy around rubber chickens. With all of this, Lief never learned to love eating shrimp, though oysters on the half shell remained a favorite. 

On certain occasions and in certain flocks, Lief was able to maintain sobriety and even had a daily workout routine that consisted of lifting weights and running. This was often followed by a marathon of shirtless, biceps-contracted bathroom selfies and positive body talk. Internally, he exercised the skill of navigating the tricky world of his own emotions and was slowly improving through sincere dedication and a little help from a Jedi master. He worked on naming the affective light-show intrinsic to his existence and built it into the material world through digital image, jewelry and furniture making, poetry, rap and stick and poke body art. 

At other times and with other herds, a real-life-Stranger-Things played out on his D&D table, where he was the most stylish Dungeon Master Extraordinaire. He sat in zig-zagging French braids, form-fitted jeans and a sparkling Mary Magdalene shirt with his hypnotic eyes swirled with kohl. He worked through missions to help others understand their world, supported them in decision-making and aided them in their fight against the Witch King. 

The laser-lit imaginings rippling through his mind created playful juxtapositions of polychromatic toddler ponies embossed on semi-automatic rifles or luminescent unicorn spirits glistening across the bellies of bombs. In his psychic world, he sought to neutralize his own fears by coloring them with cherubic enchantments or supernatural beings. On his right-shoulder sat Ernesto, a fluff pudge of a spider he had rescued from the Goodwill bins. Near his window was a terrarium made to incubate and hatch the eggs of a large silkmoth.

He was a certified sailor and scuba diver and spoke of selling his home to buy a catamaran and sail around the world. It is certainly conceivable that Lief would play the role of dapper pirate in a rose-velvet coat, creamy silk shirt and fancy buckled shoes. He also fantasized about moving to Alaska, at least for the summers. Yet, at the time of his death, he remained living on the small creek near his home, where he was satisfied well enough with his proximity to water.

He was ferried across his Jacksonville acreage on an electric steed; a bicycle that Fen the Flamingo Herder would follow through the woods on their various adventures. With a bud, he would occasionally ditch the stallion for sheer quadriceps power in an attempt to become as lost as possible, hoping not to make it home before nightfall. One night this worked and he lamented not packing any food in his bag, but later, proudly declared that he survived a night without. 

The breadth of his kitchen counter was a wooden cutting board for the preparation of freshly baked bread, burgers of mac n’ cheese, hot wings in dramatic sauces, tacos of bull, homemade mayonnaise, lasagnas, PB&J that he ate with a fork, baked and grilled chicken, meatball and spaghetti sandwiches dripping in mozzarella both above and below and various versions of charcuterie. Any and all culinary items were prepared with freshly ground pepper. He was apt to lecture any guest on the necessity of a fine mortar and pestle as well as the importance of using a bidet. Should a friend or family member invite this transmigrated Buck to a restaurant, he became an unrelenting food critic who could rarely issue a favorable rating. The clear exceptions to this, in which Lief gave five stars, were Jacksonville’s Umi Sushi, Medford’s Namaste Indian, Portland’s Kaan and Portland’s Expatriate for their Laotian tea leaf tacos.

This oyster lover had ancestral connections to the Pacific Northwest through his father. His paternal grandfather, Leonard Kamhout, was a tribal member of the Yakama Nation. He read and researched passionately to learn about his Indigenous history. He was beaming one day when he came home to declare that another Native man had recognized him at a restaurant and called him out as a brother. The weight of the colonial wounding he carried in his DNA was formidable and required collective help. He heroically tried to manage this through his art and poetry, through his various projects, through his partnerships and through his visions. 

All who miss him recognize the work he did to carry his story forward, to heal an inner darkness with any light available and to trod upright and proudly, with light, love and laughter through the world.

Lief is sincerely missed by his parents, Keisha Freer, Das Kamhout and Bex Groebner; his brother, Leander Kamhout; his living grandparents, Trisha Cleary, Judith and Greeley Wells and Leonard Freer, many aunts and uncles including Lila Kamhout, Bridget Karam, Linda Massey, Matt and Erika Wells, and Karl Freer; many cousins, including Alex Karam, Vivienne and Mavrik Wells, Jai Kamhout, Jena Umstattd, Sean Wheeler and Chad Wheeler and his many friends and million buds. Lief did not have any biological children but called Sterling Ripley his son.

Lief was preceded in death by his paternal grandfather, Leonard Kamhout and his aunt, Chandra Kamhout.