Detroit hadn't expected to become a pivotal part of the Chris Cornell story.

But local fans turned out in scores Friday night for a vigil outside the Fox Theatre in memory of the late Soundgarden singer, their candles met by chilly spring breezes.

Among them were about two dozen people with black armbands reading, “I will not give up,” in a statement of anti-suicide advocacy.

Cornell died early Thursday in his room at the MGM Grand Detroit, a death ultimately ruled "suicide by hanging," just an hour after Soundgarden's Fox performance for a capacity crowd.

"His music will always be alive,” said Julie Webber, 44, of Grosse Pointe Farms, who lit candles beside a collection of wreaths and flowers fans had placed at the base of a streetlight in front of the Fox.

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“He was just amazing. I think he’s one of the best vocalists of all time,” Webber said, adding that she once flew to California for a chance to meet the singer. Nearby, two men tuned up guitars, readying for a Cornell tribute.

Cornell, long regarded as one of rock's premier singers, was an integral part of the Seattle scene that shaped the hard rock and grunge movement of the 1990s.

“He changed my life – he was everything to me,” said Jay Sun, 39, of Birmingham, standing amid mourners gathered near the Fox marquee. Sun said he’d spent years traveling the country, “busking all over,” and often performed Cornell’s songs on street corners. Beside him stood a musician identifying himself as 35-year-old Royal Oak musician Yorg Stormrunner, who spoke a tribute to Cornell before singing one.

“He was what glued it all together, all the Seattle grunge. He was just the best singer of all of them,” Stormrunner said before calling on the crowd to join in singing “Hunger Strike,” a signature song by Temple of the Dog, Cornell's side project with members of Pearl Jam.

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Pounding a tambourine in time to the tune was Kevin Morris, 58, of Detroit. His business cards bill Morris as “poet, musician, activist, speaker,” but in an earlier life, Morris said he’d gotten to know Cornell and his family by working for the singer.

“I was his roadie,” setting up equipment for Cornell’s concerts and loading it into truck trailers afterward, Morris said. In the wee hours of Friday morning, he’d gotten a call from his sister with the dire news of Cornell’s death, thrusting him immediately into a wide-awake burst of creativity.

“I knew I couldn’t sleep,” he said, holding up a dreamlike abstract painting – with complex yet cohesive streams of purple, gray and black – that Morris said he crafted in memory of Cornell.

“I can tell you, he was a wonderful husband and father,” Morris said. But others there, those from suicide-prevention groups like Six Feet Over, said Cornell’s act was preventable and shouldn’t have happened.

“We do have suicide survivors here to share their stories,” and Cornell’s fans didn’t oppose hearing from them, said Adriene Avripas, 37,of Clinton Township, a key organizer of the vigil, who posted the event earlier Friday on the Facebook page of Metro Detroit Political Action Network.

Cornell had a history of drug abuse and depression, said Peggy Goodwin of Royal Oak, a board member of the Michigan chapter of the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention.

“Those are obvious risk factors (for suicide) and then you add the environmental factors – a grueling tour schedule, prescription drugs, whatever he was feeling. But I always like to emphasize that suicide is preventable,” Goodwin said.

”We’ve come a long way with educating the public, but I’m still seeing comments (on internet forums about Cornell) like “how selfish of him to do this,” Goodwin said Friday night.

Standing at the edge of the crowd at the vigil was a couple with dual motivations. Sterling Heights residents Dea Goodman, 37, and her husband Mike Goodman, 41, liked Cornell’s music. But they also respected – and perhaps also feared – the demons that drove him to his end in a hotel bathroom.

Mike Goodman has had depression for much of his life, and that led to “a setback” a few years ago, Dea Goodman said.

Eyeing the crowd at the vigil, she said: “We’re here because we liked his music -- but also, we know what he was going through.”

Contact Bill Laitner: blaitner@freepree.com. Contact Detroit Free Press music writer Brian McCollum: 313-223-4450 or bmccollum@freepress.com.