Patrick's mother louise wanted this to be read at his memorial gig at All Asia. She wasn't able to get the letter to the club that night, so I'm printing it here for everyone to read....

To simply say thank you to you seems so small in comparison to the wonderful tribute you wrote about Pat on myspace. This generated such an unexpected response from so many musicians and friends. We had no idea how many people he knew, or touched or played with in different bands. So many people he did know or people who just knew the music wrote such kind remarks about him.

Pat would have been overwhelmed by all the attention given to him. His expression used so often "NO WAY" would have been one of his comments. "That's not for me" must be someone else" He was always so afraid it was not good enough, "lets do it again". I heard him say in the studio, I can do better. Always striving to be the best he could.

Two years ago he took some old tapes of his Aunt made during the 70's of her classical voice concerts and made a wonderful c.d. It was amazing how he got rid of all the old noises and just came up with her pure voice. He also designed the jacket and had it printed for her. But, being Pat, he never put his name on the c.d. or took any credit for it. She will now have it re-printed with credit due to him. This was Pat.

Pat had no musical training-he taught himself. Playing the same chords along with records-over and over-until he got it right. I said to a neighbor once that I always knew where my kids are. Her response, and so do all the neighbors....... His first studio was in my basement.... His light show was his favorite. I reminded him - we have to live here, I hope you know what your doing with all that wire...."Don't worry, I have it under control".

In the last 6 years daily life became increasingly difficult as time went on. He did not want friends to know how bad it was as he wanted to continue with the studio. Even with all the operations and health problems his goal was the same. Back to working at the Marriot and continuing the music.

Pat would not move to Florida as his dogs were his family, studio his love and playing music with friends, all of that kept him in Boston.

To end his journey through life with a tribute to him and the music he loved with all his friends couldn't be better. To all the band members, Kenny, Pat B, Chuck, Guy, Danny, and Phil just to name a few- also all the supporters and fans, the Leonard family can't say thank you enough.

Do have an exciting and great gig.

Louise E Leonard 

Varsity Drag (featuring Ben Diley)
American Pulverizer (Kenny Chambers, Marky Mussel)
Bad Lieutenants (Teenage Heart Records)
Refuse Resist
Bob Cenci and/or The Wynotts
Bipolarcoaster
DJ Joanie Lindstrom (WMBR)
 
And we will be adding more as we go...Get in contact.

If anyone would like to send something in Patricks memory to assist with costs incured from his untimely passing, please feel free to do so. Checks or money orders should be made out to:

Louise Leonard       

2001 83rd ave. North 

Lot 1207

St. Petersberg, FL.  33702

Pat Leonard was like my brother.  We met when we were kids, growing up in Ipswich, Ma., we quickly formed a bond of friendship and musical comaradere that would spread over thrity years.  The connection we shared in our two bands, "Iron Cross & Moving Targets", was a true musical chemistry.  Like many brothers, there were times of tension and disagreement, but underneath, always a reliable trust.  Aside from my own father, he was the first guy to whom I ever said, "I love you man".  We never had trouble letting each other know that we really cared about each other. 

Playing music with Pat was always exciting, often explosive, and constantly an inspiration.  He was a star in the best sense of the word.  Playing live, he embodied the definition of stage presence, moving like a flamenco dancer with a knife held between his teeth intsead of a rose.  He played with such power and agression that he became well known for breaking strings on his bass guitar (which is a pretty difficult thing to do).  His handsome dark looks ensured that the targets had some sex appeal, and that Lenny would have some girls trying to get his attention while we blasted through our set.  He was a force to be rekoned with on all counts.

Pat didn't have a mean bone in his body.  He would do anything for a friend and never looked for thanks.  Lenny never held a grudge in his life that I was aware of, and I always knew that he would be there for me if I needed him.  There was a pure honesty that guided his personality that was rare and touching.  I remember being on tour with him in 1994, and going to a party after a gig.  Our host had a couple of guitars lying around and we traded songs in the living room, recalling our earlt days jamming in his basement.  We played, "Castles Made of Sand" by Jimi Hendrix, and got teary eyed on the last verse because it's such a sad fucking song.  That's what music meant to the two of us.

In later years after we no longer played in bands together, I would often (but not often enough) visit Pat at his home in Jamacia Plain.  He continued to play music and started writing songs of his own, evenutally building a home recording studio to capture his music, as well as making records for other bands.  He just kept getting better at it, and would give me a call to come visit and hear his latest compositions.  His songs had the intensity of The Targets, and the deep straight forward emotion of what was inside of him.  I couldn't help but be proud of his accomplishments as a song writter.  It continued to be an important part of his life, and he put together some great bands along the way.

Through out the post Targets years I lost count of the number of times that fans and fellow musicians came to me to sing the praises of his talent as a player.  He really was someone they all looked up to.

In the last year I moved to Los Angeles and spoke with Pat on the phone a handful  of times.  Three nights before I got a call from Pat Brady telling me that he had passed away, I had a vivid dream that the three of us were together again, playing music.  Like many dreams, I couldn't make much sense of the meaning of it, but it was the second time in a week that he had come to me like that.  I had been trying to contact Pat recently, but his phone was disconnected.  I could only guess that these dreams were his way of trying to reach me.  It still hasn't sunk in that he is gone.  I'll never forget my friend and brother.  I am grateful for the time we spent together and the music we made.  Rest in Peace.  I love you.