FAREWELL, DEAR FRIEND

Once upon a time, in my mid-30s, I was in a bluegrass band. That may seem odd given my proclivity for jazz and traditional Scottish music, but it came about when I sang at an open mic; afterward a guy came up and invited me to sing with his band!

That guy was Stan Dye. For about six years, we had regular jam sessions—mostly at Stan's house—and we played for informal performances, open mics, and even made one recording under the name Fretful Event. Besides vocals and playing autoharp, the guys insisted I do our introductions, saying, "That's the vocalist's job!" One time, after I announced our name was Fretful Event, our banjo man interrupted me and said, "Our other name is Three Old Farts and a Hippie". It became a regular part of our opening schtick and never failed to get a laugh because I'd roll my eyes and they'd crack up, and you'll see in the photo below that it was true!

Stan died on April 15, just shy of his 95th birthday. His sense of humor was intact till the end: at his funeral, a hospice worker related that he'd told Stan, "I'm going to miss you." Stan's reply was, "I'm gonna miss myself a whole lot more!" I credit Stan's, Bill's and Vern's encouragement for making me feel welcome and safe enough to learn many new tricks. I keep thinking of lyrics from one old-time song we regularly sang called Too Old to Die Young:

"If a candle is life, then death must be the wind, You can close your windows tight, but it still comes blowing in. Now I have had some dear sweet friends I thought would never die, Now all I have left is a memory of them, and a teardrop in my eye."

Thank you for many, many good memories, Stan. You are missed. (If you click on the image below, you can hear Fretful Event perform Old Joe Clark; Stan is playing mandolin instead of his usual Dobro. Left to right: Bill Downs, Celia, Stan Dye, and Vern Flock.)