In the vernacular of U2, I would like to thank “all the stolen voices” that contributed to this book (see “The Miracle [of Joey Ramone]”). I’m indebted to quite a number of authors, colleagues, and friends who have helped shape my writing, and I hope that through it, the ideas and gestures of kindness “will one day be returned.”
First and foremost, a book like this would have been much harder to write without the fantastically rich archive of @U2 (www.atu2.com), the longest-running U2 fansite on the web, as well as Matt McGee, the site’s founder and author of U2: A Diary. Across a myriad of Google searches, these two resources have been at the top of the list more often than I can count. I also offer thanks to a number of others associated with this site (where I, too, am a news writer). Tassoula Kokkoris, Sherry Lawrence, and Karen Lindell are brilliant researchers, writers, and editors who have directly influenced my work over and over. As a professor, I have valued the insight of other academics, especially Arlan Hess and Christopher Endrinal, who are U2 scholars in their own right and never leave me wanting of meaningful conversation. There’s not enough room here to list a cadre of other names related to the @U2 website, but all have had an impact on me through their articles and conversations (including ceremonial midnight pizza runs in downtown Manhattan).
Beth Maynard, a coauthor of Get Up Off Your Knees: Preaching the U2 Catalog and the one who found my first blog post about U2 in 2006 and introduced me to a whole online community of thoughtful U2 fans, and Angela Pancella, an inspiring author and director of an urban nonprofit, continue to challenge and nuance my theological notions of the band. The crew of U2Songs.com, specifically Christopher Jenkins and Aaron J. Sams, have also been great sources for the tiniest U2-related details along the way.
Scott Calhoun, editor of Rowman & Littlefield’s Tempo series, got more than he bargained for by picking me up as one of his writers. Not only an excellent editor, he is one of the most scholarly voices I know on the topic of U2, and I am grateful beyond words for his patient and gracious coaching throughout this project, as well as to Natalie Mandziuk and all the other kind and resourceful people at Rowman & Littlefield who gave guidance and helped me make decisions along the way. Recognition also goes to my colleagues in the biblical and religious studies department at Fresno Pacific University where I teach, who put up with my incessant rambling about this band and have kindly allowed me to occasionally skirt my duties as department chair while preparing this manuscript. I’m grateful to my office assistant Sara Martin, a stellar senior student who I trusted to proofread all of these words. Several deans have allowed me freedom and time to write this book and to teach a very unique class called Theology, Culture, and U2—thanks to Dr. Will Friesen for initial permission, Dr. Kevin Reimer for encouragement, and Dr. Ron Herms for helping see this project through to the end.
Finally, a grateful, heartfelt thanks to the global U2 community. I have intimate friends all over the world because of this band, though I’ve never met most of them. “Hugs before handshakes” we like to say. And special appreciation goes to the Crystal Ballroom, a social media community I lead on Periscope, where I’ve tested many of the ideas and stories that follow. One of the points I try to make in this book is that U2 is much bigger than four men. I’m grateful to Larry, Adam, Edge, and Bono, but I’m equally thankful to the amazing fraternity that surrounds them. I’ve never met the band, gotten an autograph, or stood in line on a curb to snap a photo, but I have talked or corresponded with enough of the U2 crew to know that these people are the real deal. This isn’t just a business, it’s a craft—a lifelong endeavor of love. Many artists, technicians, and support staff are mentioned in this text, but space prohibits me from citing many of the others I wish I could have called attention to. One of the great lessons of this forty-year-long case study is watching the development of an inspiring U2 family.
And I can’t complete my acknowledgments without mentioning my own family. Tracy, my wife (Mrs. Crystal Ballroom), deserves credit for reading along as I wrote but more importantly, for hauling our two boys around to music lessons and school and church and so many other activities while I spent late nights in my office researching and writing or while I was off on a U2 excursion. And I’m grateful for the patience of Michael and Daniel, who asked me, “Dad, when are you going to be through with your book?” more than once. “A house doesn’t make a home,” but you three do.