John Stewart has died. The world has lost the greatest singer/songwriter of our time. He is the closest thing to a hero I have had in my life. I pray for Buffy and the family.
It has been difficult to open up much about how John’s passing has affected me. I can say that I only spoke with the man a handful times. But he has been talking (singing) to me since 1969. I am just one of thousands of people who were, and still are profoundly touched by his music. So while he didn’t know me, I knew him…
Because I don’t get Bloodlines digest at home, I hadn’t heard that John was stricken until Friday when Gene Henriksen called. On Saturday morning I was driving to the re-cycling center (ok, it’s the dump) and I was listening to The Trio Years CD from the American Journey box set. During the song The New Frontier my cell phone rang and it was Gene. He told me to pull over. I stopped my truck on a desolate, cold, country road and Gene said “He’s gone”. That was about the extent of our conversation.
I am not ashamed to say I cried for some time, and the weird cloak of disbelief and sadness hasn’t lifted yet. Yes, there is solace in knowing he spent his remaining time with people he loved. That he played music until the end, and his grave condition lasted but a short time. John went out like the hero he is. John really is bigger than life itself.
At last count John Stewart had written forty-eight songs about or with references to angels. So it is fitting that he now takes his place “singing with the angel band…”
1 comment:
Nicely said, Tom. I cried too, and I never once had the honor of speaking with the man. But through you, he speaks/sings to me. And maybe Joe will take a turn at the keyboard while John sings with the angel band. Now there's a thought!
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