Chapter 8
December 12, 2007…Florida Keys and More Services
Dr. Susan and I stopped at the frame shop to pick up Red’s portrait and headed south. I spent a lot of the time on the phone. Attempting to get real people on the phone to talk about credit cards, deeds and debts was exhausting.
I received a call from one of Red’s former music-partners who was apparently upset with the days I was planning the services in the Keys. Couldn’t we postpone it till he could get there? He was busy this week.
I told him I was sorry Red had died at an inconvenient time for him but the dates of his services couldn’t be changed. I think after I said that he realized how ridiculous he sounded, gave me his condolences again and hung up. I hadn’t heard from him in several years and I don’t imagine I’ll be hearing from him again anytime soon. I never liked his egotistical attitude and was very glad when he fired Red for playing too loud. I knew he had really fired him for stealing the show. Silly musician didn’t know what a great asset Red was till he was gone. He’d contacted Red several times to try to get him to play with him again and I remember Red saying, “It’ll be a cold day in hell before I ever play with him again!”
I like to think I realized how great Red was before he was gone. I know I did. I decided I didn’t want to live without him and we’d gotten back together to live happily ever after. I still can’t believe how lucky we were to have those last eighteen days together.
I spoke to Bruce about the service we were going to do in Key West. The manager of the Hogs Breath would have some food at the back bar set out as a buffet and approved of our having lots of musicians sit in with Bruce on stage. Red’s fans on the Internet would be able to take part in the celebration of his life.
Dr. Susan and I arrived at my favorite restaurant in Key Largo, Num Thai. Red and I ate there at least once each time I visited and always sat in the same booth. When he dined there alone, usually a couple of times a week, he sat at the sushi bar so he could talk with the owner, his buddy Num. Num was always going to go to one of Red’s gigs to hear him play. He never made it.
The girls who were supposed to meet us at the restaurant hadn’t arrived yet so Dr. Susan made some phone calls and I made myself comfortable in lotus pose on a bench to breathe deeply and wait.
While sitting there I thought about the duties of the days ahead. I could do it. I had to do it. I kept hearing Bruce tell me, “Keep your chin up, Diane.” The last time he said that to me I told him, “If I keep my chin up any higher I am going to fall over backwards!”
My friends arrived and we all hugged and cried a little in the parking lot before we headed into the restaurant. I took a deep breath and pushed the door opened. I was face to face with a poster for my husband’s service on the door. Everyone waited to see what my reaction would be.
As I was telling myself, “Keep your chin up, Diane, and don‘t fall over backwards,” I said out loud, “Annie did a wonderful job on the poster for Red. He’d be proud.” Of course, the date he died was November 30th, not December 1st as it was on the poster, but this was one time I didn’t need to correct anyone. It just wasn’t important.
We ate dinner at a long table in the center of the dining room. I chose to sit with my back towards the Sushi bar. I didn’t think I could sit there and look at Num without crying. He came over and, in his broken English, told me how sorry he was our Red was gone. He didn’t need to speak any language his eyes said the same thing everyone else’s said, “He was too young. It was too sudden. I will miss him so.” He bought the table a couple of large Sakes and we toasted our dear friend Red and then he went back to his work. Life goes on.
One of the women who joined us was a friend of one of my friend’s. I sat across from her and when they told me her name I remembered her husband had died tragically in an accident almost a year ago. I’d nearly forgotten about her. You know, you meet someone and hear of something sad that’s happened and while you are thinking about it you feel compassion and sympathy and then think about them occasionally, hoping they are doing well, and then you go back to your life. I guessed I would be that someone in a lot of peoples’ lives.
You never realize the real pain someone goes through when they lose a spouse until you feel it for yourself. There are no words to describe how empty, how hurt, how unreal it all seems. Only one person has died but the life of the one they leave behind is changed completely.
After dinner I felt like dessert and I knew Annie was working at Sharkeys. It would be a good idea to stop there and touch base with her about tomorrow’s service and eat a big piece of chocolate cake. Chocolate cake is good for your soul, well, at least while you are eating it!
We arrived and there were posters everywhere for the service she had put together for Red. I had to go outside and sit at a table in the dark by the dumpster until the tears slowed down. Compose yourself, Diane. You can do it. You have to.
I walked back inside and there was my cake. It was the last piece in the kitchen and we all wanted it so I shared it with the rest of the girls. No need to eat the whole thing myself. Besides, I think they may have left me there to find my own ride if they’d thought they weren’t going to get any.
We drove to Karen’s house and I looked at the motor home my husband lived in while he was in Key Largo. The tears came in a flood and I knew the next few days were just going to be this way. Better get a box of tissues tomorrow.
I slept fitfully that night, on D’s couch. It’s one of the most uncomfortable couches in the world but I don’t think I would have slept any better on anything else. I was glad I was surrounded by my girlfriends; two in the downstairs’ apartment and two in these little apartments upstairs. I couldn’t think of anywhere else on earth I would want to be, except maybe in Red’s arms at the mountain, but I had to stop thinking that way. He’s not coming back and it doesn’t make any sense wishing otherwise.
The next day we had tea, coffee and breakfast and I worked a little on cleaning out the motor home. It was filled with mildew from being closed up and I couldn’t stay in there for very long before it started to affect my breathing. I opened up all the windows and let the breeze blow through while I made a few more phone calls. Good thing I was able to use Red’s minutes too this month; so many calls to make, so many things to do.
I’d had all his calls forwarded to my phone number and the phone rang. It was a buddy from northern Georgia expecting to talk to Red.
“Hey, Mike, I am sorry to have to tell you this but Red had a heart attack and died last week,” I reluctantly told this musician-friend.
“WHAT? NO! I just saw him in Key West. He looked better than he’d looked in years,” was his distraught reply.
“I know. It’s a shock to us all,” I told him. I listened for awhile longer about what a great guy and a great musician my husband was. I don’t think I will ever get tired of hearing people say those things but I had another call coming in and had to tell him thank you and goodbye.
It was the gentleman for whom Red was building Guitar #2 and he wanted to come by and look at it and the mandolin Red played. Would this be a good time? I gave him directions and he was there in less than an hour. He fondled the unfinished instrument Red was working on and the mandolin he’d gotten in Nashville last year.
I told him the story of how we had to go into the city of Nashville to watch and listen to the piano/keyboard player they’d hired to do parts for the studio CD he and Bruce were recording at Tree Top Studios. After we sat in awe and watched this man sitting in a chair on rollers glide between his Hammond B3 organ, his piano and his computer keyboard making magic while recording, we walked across the street to a music store to get some strings.
Red was drawn to the back of the shop and fell in love with the mandolin hanging on the wall. We were nose-deep in credit card bills and after much deliberation he decided not to get it while we were in the store. On the way home he couldn’t stop talking about it.
I eventually talked him into buying it. He called the store and paid for it and his friend, Tim Carter, picked it up for him and brought it to Key West the next time he came down. I remember watching Red open the case and taking it out to play it. He was like a child with a new toy or maybe more like a father with his new baby. Red simply glowed.
I knew this man who wanted to buy my husband’s guitar and mandolin would take good care of these instruments.
He bought both of them on the spot and took the mandolin with him. He agreed to meet me in Key West so he could pick up the guitar when he attended the service at the Hog’s Breath. He understood I wanted to show guitar #2, Red’s masterpiece, to his friend Michael Kane, before it left the Keys. Michael and Red were going to build guitars together for fun and profit.
Michael already had guitar #1 in his possession. Red had shipped it to him in Nantucket so it could be in Michael’s shop for his 3rd interview with Martha Stewart. We’d all watched the show and Red laughed and said he’d gotten his 3 seconds of fame as the camera panned the shop and briefly showed the guitar body he had built. He was so proud of himself and now I wanted to share this second beauty with Michael before it went home with someone else. I was looking forward to seeing him tomorrow.
Before long it was time to head to Key Largo to jump on the 60 foot sailboat Red used to captain in the Boy Scout program. The Calypso Gypsy had to sail out and back at high tide because of its deep draft so our window of opportunity was a narrow one. The captain today, Lance Holmquist, had married Red and I on another of his boats, The Calypso Poet over 8 years ago. I had helped Lance rebuild The Calypso Poet in 1992. So many memories, so much fun, and now, so many tears; you never realize how little time you have here, in this earth plane, till it’s done.
We arrived and hugged and cried and boarded and headed out the canal. We all shared ‘Red’ stories and then it was time to dump some of his ashes into the sea. I headed for the port side of the boat and was quickly ushered to the starboard side with laughter; downwind made much better sense unless we wanted Red all over us. It broke the tension. We laughed and cried, gave him a moment of silence, came around and headed back to shore. I was glad to be on the water; hydrotherapy on the high seas.
Once back on shore we said our goodbyes, some would be at the service tonight, some would be at the service on Summerland Key and some would see us in Key West. I wasn’t keeping track of who, what, when or where. I knew where I was going to be and what I had to do next. I just kept putting one foot in front of the other.
After a brief rest at Karen’s house we drove back to Key Largo for the service at Sharkeys. Annie had set out a table and we put Red’s portrait, his fiddle, and some roses in a lovely display.
One of his fans brought a box with a hole in the top and a stack of note cards for people to write their ‘Red Memories’ on and she put it on the table. What a wonderful idea. I brought it to the Key West service with me so his friends at the Southernmost Point could do the same. They are listed in the back of this book, along with the Bruce and Red blog, should you care to read how people said their good byes to one of the happiest and most talented fiddle, mandolin and guitar players ever to stomp on this earth. One of Red’s fans said he’d stomped on this earth in a fine manner and she certainly called that right!
A long time friend and a wife of a local musician showed up with a purple box of tissues; purple for healing, tissues for blowing and some Remedy Relief Chewies to calm me. Thank you, Universe. I had forgotten to buy tissues and the chewies really helped to calm me.
We talked for awhile and she kept saying how she could not imagine what I was going through. She was right, no one can imagine. They may think they can but they cannot until it happens to them. She apologized for her husband not being there as he had a gig three islands down. I told her I understood. Working musicians don’t cancel gigs. The music must go on.
Then Red’s partner in crime in Key Largo, Ted Hyde, showed up to start setting up the stage. Together he and Red were ‘Grateful Ted and Fiddlin’ Red’ and had been playing to crowds in Key Largo since 2001. I thought about how Reds’ partners in music must be stumbling through life wondering what they were going to do without him. They both depended on Red nearly as much as I did.
I walked over to Ted we hugged and asked each other how we were doing. I said I was ok and Ted said he was not. He hadn’t slept and he was not feeling good about getting up and playing. I told him not to worry. He wouldn’t be doing it alone. Then I asked if he would he like some natural-chewy-things to calm him they seemed to be working for me. He immediately accepted and I ran to get the last few for him. I had my breathing and my friends and I didn’t have to get up on stage. He needed them more than I did.
I sat down and tried to listen to the conversation at the table. I couldn’t and then my phone rang. Good, an excuse to get up and get away for a few moments.
It was one of the attorneys I had called for an interview to represent me in the probate case for the house in Georgia. Every time I thought about that house I could hear Red saying, “Don’t worry about it honey. You are my wife, you’ll get everything.” Well, honey, I bet you are realizing now how wrong you were. Probate was going to be expensive and take at least a year. Since I learned this information
I have told everyone I know to make sure BOTH names are on any and all deeds.
“Hello,” I answered and heard this voice, with a thick Georgia mountain accent, telling me what a great job he could do for me in my probate case. “I know a lot about the law and loop holes that no one else knows about.” He told me he could get me money from the state to pay my mortgage for a year and he could do this and that… and as I listened to him make promises in order to get my case I knew he was not the one. He sounded too hungry. And, quite honestly, even though having the state of Georgia pay my mortgage for a year sounded pretty good to a worried widow, it wouldn’t be right. I didn’t live there. There are enough people taking money from our government that don’t deserve it. I couldn’t do that.
I thanked him for his time and told him I would call him next Monday with my answer. Actually, I thanked him for getting me away from the small talk at the table. I walked behind the stage towards the water where Red and I had stood so many times. This canal in Key Largo was one of our favorite spots whether he was playing music or just playing with me. How much can you miss someone? How long will you miss someone?
Billy Davidson, another musician and golfing buddy of Red’s walked in. He had gone out on the boat with us this morning and we had been talking all week about things he could do to make things easier for me. I smiled when I remembered telling him many of the musicians in Key Largo wanted me to move the night of this service up another night because the Christmas party at the Caribbean Club was tonight.
He’d told me, “Diane, do it when you want to do it. I know you are always trying to make other people happy. This is the time to do things for you.” It was very good advice.
Billy got up with Ted and sang a few songs and people began filing in and talking and listening to the music. Many came up to me and introduced themselves. My husband was loved by so many!
I had to hold back a few laughs, because, as the night got darker it also got drunker and people would say things they probably wouldn’t say when they were sober. One rather drunk man came over to me while I was talking to one of my sailing buddies I’d known from my pre-Red days. We’d been working together and having fun in Key Largo with the ‘gang’ since 1992. This drunk interrupted us and said, “You know, Diane, we’ll really miss your husband. Don’t worry, even though he’s gone, we’ll still like you.”
He walked away and my friend looked at me and said, “Hold me back. I want to punch him. We knew you long before we knew Red. We will always love you BOTH.” I told him to calm down, it was ok. The man meant well and didn’t know who I was. A lot of Red’s fans only knew me as the fiddle player’s wife.
After a couple of hours of talking to people and smiling and hugging and listening to music without the fiddle player I realized I’d had enough. These people could stay and celebrate my husband’s life all night. I needed to go to Key West tomorrow and do this all over again. We were scheduled to stop at Summerland Key for a small, private ceremony on the bay to spread some more of Red’s ashes in the waters he fished in with his friends who lived there. I was tired and it was time for me to start my goodbyes.
I went inside to wait for Annie, the girl who had done the posters and worked so hard to this service together. She was working behind the bar and it was very, very busy. As I stood and waited a group of guys told me how much they were going to miss Red. I thanked them and said I was going to miss him too.
One of them said, “Did he really, ummm, were you really, did he die while you were…” they wanted to know if the story they’d heard was true about his actual death but were having a hard time asking me.
“Yes, we were making love when he had a heart attack. I dialed 911 and began CPR. The ambulance team was there in about 9 minutes but he was gone,” I told them. I began to think I should put those words on a recording. I’d said it a hundred times and knew I would say it at least a hundred more.
“Wow,” the man standing closest to me said, “I never met anybody who fu*ked somebody to death before.”
I looked at him and laughed and said, “Well, you won’t be able to say that again ‘cause now you met some who has. Excuse me, I have to say goodnight to Annie.” I turned away, wondering what the looks on their faces were now.
I hugged Annie and told her thank you. She apologized for not being able to socialize with me outside but they’d been really busy at the bar. I told her not to worry. I was glad Red was still bringing in business for the bar. I would see her in Key West tomorrow night. We would visit and cry together there.
I guess that’s what part of these services is about, crying with people. Looking into their eyes and feeling their pain and helping them release it. Their lives would be affected, not as much as mine and Bruce’s and Ted’s, but the smiling fiddle player would be sorely missed by many. He had touched a lot of people.
I walked back outside in time to hear Billy Davidson on stage saying, “Diane, I am not sure where this came from but I have a pretty good feeling Red is here and he wants me to sing this song for you.”
He started singing Bob Marley’s tune, “No woman no cry, no woman no cry. Everything is gonna be alright. Everything is gonna be alright…” I knew he was right about Red making that request but for now this woman was crying and thanking God he’d had Billy do that tune. I also knew because of my strong faith everything really was gonna be alright.
As Dr. Susan and I walked out to her truck with the props from the service, I realized I’d only had 2 drinks while I was at the bar. I’d made a promise to myself to stay sober for these events. I guess now that I didn’t have to drink with Red it would be easier not to drink too much. I wouldn’t be able to blame my husband for my hangovers anymore.
I slept a little better that night. D went to a friend’s house and gave me her bed. I was much more comfortable and rested fairly well.
December 14, 2007……………Head for Key West
I got up Friday morning and went out to the dock to do my yoga. I had been praying and stretching on this dock since Karen moved here in 2003. It was one of my favorite places in the entire world to do my devotions. I stayed here hundreds of days and nights with Red and would always get up before he did and quietly sneak out to the water. He would usually get on his bike before I was finished and ride up to the Circle K to get his coffee and his USA today. While he was alive I could practically feel
him ride by on his way past the dock.
Sometimes when we were apart, especially towards the end of his life, he would call me and tell me he had done some Sun Salutations. He always sounded so proud of himself when he did them. I was honored by his efforts because I knew they were more for my approval than they were for his own physical and spiritual benefit. At least he was trying to good things for himself and I know it wasn’t easy being Red.
It seemed so strange to be at such a familiar place without him. I guessed it would feel this way for a long time everywhere I went where we were together. I was not looking forward to tonight’s service in Key West. Well, I was looking forward to it being over.
I went in and checked on Karen, our hostess. She had not felt well when she went to bed last night and she felt even worse this morning. I offered to make her some tea and she muttered, “Yes, please.”
I made her some tea and brought it in to her, placed it on her night table and did a quick healing touch on her. She had taught me her technique of healing touch many years ago and we often did it on each other. Whether in person or long distance the energy and love you give to another helps them heal. Whether they know you are doing it or whether they don’t doesn’t matter, prayer is powerful. She was sleeping again so she may not have known what I was doing but I knew I was helping move her energy and helping her heal. It always gives me a great feeling to do a healing treatment so this one was helping me as much as it was helping her.
Dr. Susan and I headed for Summerland Key and the other girls were going to follow later. Karen would not be coming down. She needed to rest and heal. Joshua, my oldest son, drove down from Orlando to go to Key West with us. He wanted to be there to give me support and to pay his respects at the Southernmost Point.
We arrived on Summerland Key and hugged everyone there. Some of them had come up to Key Largo to spread his ashes on the sailboat yesterday so it was easier to look into their eyes. We had already done those first-time-seeing-each-other-cries. I introduced everyone and sat and looked out at the bay while people around me chatted.
Cindy did not want to go out on the boat and went upstairs to check and make sure all of the beds ready. We were supposed to go out on the boat then drive into Key West and then drive back the 28 miles to their beautiful homes here on the water. Yes, that would be plural, they have three gorgeous homes in a row on the ocean and Red and I were blessed to be able to spend a lot of time here.
I brought my bags up to the room where Red and I usually stayed. I needed a few minutes to lie down. Everyone made themselves at home and decided to meet on the dock in a couple of hours.
When we all gathered on the dock we realized the wind had picked up to a steady 20 knots with gusts of 30 or more. We decided not to go out on the boat. That was fine with me. Red had fished off this dock many times and he would be happy right here. No use getting out on the water on a day like this. Of course if Red had been here they would have gone fishing. A little wind would never get in the way. But he wasn’t, and they weren’t, so we were staying on shore.
I headed next door to let Cindy know we were not going out on the water, we were just going to say a few words and lay him to rest at the dock. I walked around the corner of the house never expecting to run into her. I jumped and screamed the same time she jumped and screamed and she said, “Good grief, Diane. You almost gave me a heart attack. What is that, your new profession?” We laughed and hugged each other and I told her I was coming over to ask her to join us on the dock on the bay. We walked back together arm in arm. I was so lucky to have so many good friends to help me through this. I wished I could ease their pain and I guessed by doing these services I was doing the best I could.
The service started with Barry Cuda at 3pm and was scheduled to go through Bruce’s show that evening, ending around 9pm. I knew I didn’t want to be there the entire 6 hours, but I did want to be there as long as I possible could.
On the way into town my sick friend, Karen, called to let me know she was doing so much better. “Diane, you saved my life with the tea and healing. Thank you. I guess you win some and you lose some. I’m dying to see you again though,” we laughed. It is funny how often the English language refers to death; dying to see you, knock ‘em dead, gave me a heart attack, saved my life, the list goes on and on, and I am sure I would be much more aware now when they were used.
We stopped at Michael and Marsha Kane’s house on the way to Key West to show them Guitar #2, to see what he had done on Guitar #1 and to hear his story. He said something very miraculous had happened the night Red had died. I was looking forward to hearing what he had to say.
We drove to the house and hugged and cried and went upstairs to get out the guitars and talk for a little bit before heading in to “The Hog.” Mike was definitely one of the people I would consider a really good friend to Red. They fished together. They built guitars together. They drank and even
dreamed of the future together.
We looked at the two guitars. The first one, the one that had been on the Martha Stewart Show, the one that Mike was working on now, was a cutaway. I remember Red cursing himself for making a cutaway design before making a standard-body guitar. It had been 20 years before he’d bent any wood. Much to his surprise it had come out quite well. Of course, it wasn’t perfect, but much in life is not perfect.
Then Michael began his story of what happened at midnight on November 29th;
“I was working on the guitar, trying to get this piece of bone to fit in one of the grooves and it was not cooperating. I set it on the workbench and walked into the kitchen to get a drink of water and to take a break for a couple of minutes. I walked back to my workshop about 12:15am to tackle the fitting of the piece of bone again. I looked on the workbench and it wasn’t there. I moved the guitar and looked underneath it. No bone. I looked all over the floor and decided I was too tired. I was going to bed.”
Red had died at 12:12am.
Michael continued, “I got up the next morning and looked for the piece of bone again. I asked Marsha to help me find it and two other people who had come into the shop. No one could find it, anywhere. We were dumbfounded wondering where it could have gone.”
“I looked at my phone and saw I had missed a call from Bruce. I knew the moment I saw he had called, Red was dead. I don’t know how I knew, I just knew. I listened to his message and all he said was I should call him as soon as possible.”
“I called him and we cried in disbelief. It couldn’t be true. He was too young. He was so happy and so healthy. We had both just talked to him yesterday. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“I walked back into my workshop thinking about the logo I had just designed on a piece of ivory. We had planned on building beautiful one-of-a-kind guitars together. I decided I would have to put the guitar away. I didn’t want to work on it without him.”
He paused for a moment and looked around at the people he was telling the story to and composed himself before he continued, “I looked at the workbench and there, in the middle of the bench right next to the guitar in PLAIN SITE was the piece of bone that four people could not find an hour before.”
Our mouths all dropped open as we realized there really was life after death. It’s just another dimension and the really powerful spirits like Red’s could make their presence on this earth plane known. It was another sign from Spirit World telling us Red was ok. The lights coming on and off, the heron, the missing piece of bone; these were all signs from the other dimension there is life after life.
I could have sat on their dock and talked for hours but there were mourners waiting for us in Key West.
We arrived to crowds of people gathering at the Hog’s Breath Saloon. I could see their familiar faces normally so happy to see me stricken with grief. This was Red’s other living room. He would sit on this stage, drink and laugh and play music 10 days every month with Bruce to fans who had become his Key West family.
Musicians had flown in to play and pay their respects. Fans had flown in to be here from all over the country and we’d be live on the Internet for those who couldn’t be here in person. The outpouring of love was amazing.
I got out of Dr. Susan’s truck and was greeted by so many wonderful, loving friends with hugs and tears and more hugs and more tears. This was going to be a long night.
Then I saw Bruce coming across the parking lot towards me. We held out our arms and cried on each others shoulders. More people joined us and we had a group hug and cry in the parking lot where so many people had enjoyed listening to the ‘Dynamic Duo of Folk’ for the past 7 years. I wondered if Red ever realized how much he was loved. Actually, I don’t believe he’d had any idea he was loved this much, especially after reading the lyrics on a piece of paper Joshua had cleaned out of his car;
“I’m not afraid of going, and I’m not afraid to stay.
I’m just afraid nobody’s gonna miss me,
When I am gone away.”
Bruce had to go up on stage and, quite honestly, I don’t know how he did it. His voice broke a little here and there but the show went on. The musicians who joined him were filling in the blanks and helping their buddy Bruce send off his best buddy, Red, in grand style.
A woman approached me and said, “Hi, Diane. I am Diana, the one who painted the portrait of Red.” She held up her arm and said, “See my freckles. When Red and I met we were sure we were brother and sister. We had the same arms.” She was right. She had the same polka dotted arm Red had had.
I hugged her and we talked and cried a little. She had not only painted the portrait but she was taking mandolin lessons from him. She was going to miss her ‘brother’ so very, very much.
There were so many people trying to talk to me she said, “Let me let you take care of business. We’ll talk later.” I appreciated her allowing me to be the grieving widow for the people who were here. I would much rather have gone off down the street and sat and talked with her, but, there was work to be done.
The night went on and so did the musicians, one after another after another. When Big G got off the stage he walked over to me and said, “I didn’t think I’d live longer than him. I am so sorry he’s gone.” As he walked away I realized we had done a benefit for him a couple of months ago. He had diabetes and was on dialysis and they didn’t expect him to last much longer. He made it till Christmas Eve before he joined Red in that big jam session in the sky, and Carlos Minetti who toured with Carlos Santana, followed to the other dimension shortly afterwards. When I met Carlos we chatted about how he put his daughters through school while working on the Captain Kangaroo Show. What great folks I have met who are now gone. The band is getting bigger and better all the time in Spirit World.
I stood at the bar and waved at the Internet where I knew all Red’s friends around the globe were watching. I have included the copy of the www.BruceandRed.com