Log In. To help keep your account secure, please log-in again. You are no longer onsite at your organization. Please log in. For assistance, contact your corporate administrator. Arrow Created with Sketch. Hanneman, whose German-American father fought as an American soldier in World War II and brought home medals from dead Nazi soldiers that he gave to his son, was morbidly fascinated by the Second World War and Nazi Germany, collecting dozens of German soldier action figures and naming his various dogs and cats after Nazi officials and elements of WWII-era Germany.
His own wedding ring was a collectable replica of a skull-emblazoned band worn by high-ranking Nazi official Reinhard Heydrich. There was no deep meaning behind anything. And a lot of the stuff he did, he knew that it would cause a reaction—he knew it would get a response. And it was just windy and cold as fuck there. But Jeff loved that stuff. For Kathryn, who preferred to remain at home when Jeff went on tour, all she could do was count the days until he returned.
As the years wore on, returning home from tour usually meant the rest of the band had seen the last of Hanneman for a while. And it took me a few years to understand that.
To put it in a way that everyone could understand, Jeff and I were like business partners. Was he my friend? Of course he was my friend. We went to his place to watch the Raiders in the playoffs. That was just how it was. He just wanted to hibernate for a while, and I always respected that. When he was home he liked to sleep in and just kick back during the day.
And video games—Jeff was a huge video game buff. It started around with Intellivision, and after that it was Sega and Nintendo and everything else. If any new system came out, we went out and got it immediately.
First-person shooters were his thing. He kept up to date on all of them. And of course football or hockey. He started me on a German nutcracker collection and a bear collection, so he was always buying me new pieces for those. For Jeff, the bigger the tree, the better. Our house has foot-high cathedral ceilings, and I remember one year him coming home with a tree that was 22 feet high!
Jeff liked to just sit back and watch me decorate the tree. When it came to playing guitar and writing songs at home, Jeff never had any kind of set structure. He never planned it or was preoccupied with it. I always liked working with Jeff because he allowed me to do things that came naturally. There was a lot of freedom between the two of us when we wrote music and created songs.
Lombardo, too, had great respect for Hanneman as a songwriter and admired the fact that Jeff would present his songs with a basic drum-machine beat already in place. He heard everything in his mind before anyone else did. His songs were never just a constant roar of guitar playing—they were dynamic, and it gave me the opportunity to decorate the songs a little more in a form that made sense.
One was the death of his father in But as time went on they became very close. So that took a toll on him. He was never quite the same after that. It was also around this time that Jeff was quietly battling an arthritic condition that had been progressing over many years and was now beginning to worsen to the point of interfering with his playing.
We could just tell that things were going wrong. It was becoming hard to get stuff out of him. He tried to be really strong and sometimes that can weigh you down. You could hear it in the leads. When I would see him take an Aleve, I would know that he was in extreme pain from the arthritis and the Aleve would help him get through rehearsal or whatever he had to do.
He dealt with that for many, many years. Jeff was bitten on his right arm an insect that was carrying a flesh-eating disease called necrotizing fasciitis. Reports circulated that it was a spider that bit Jeff, but that was never confirmed.
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