My good friend Keith little came to visit Bluegrss Acres the first week in May and we had such a wonderful visit talking over old times and all the music we played all the good times we had in the past. we sat and talked for three or four hours, looked at a lot of my old pictures of us taken when we’re a lot younger, and in general just marveled how fast that the last 43 years of our lives have passed by. I reminded him of the conversation we had right after I turned 41, and he was a young 23 years old at the time. We were in my shop at the time when I was still living in Valley Springs, and he was sitting there watching me build something, and he made the remark that I was really getting old. I turned to him and told him; Keith, you are going to be my age before you know it and even though it is 17 years in the future, it will seem like it is only been three months since you told me this. Keith is going to turn 60 in December of this year, and when I reminded him of that remark he had to agree that the last 36 1/2 years has absolutely flown by in a blur, and seems more like 37 months instead of years.Time waits on no man regardless of who he is.
We shared a lot of memories of playing music in the past with a lot of different folks and all of the fun we had. One of my favorite memories involve Jack Sadler, one of the three founders of the California bluegrass Association. Back about 1972 or three , three or four bands played a concert at the fairgrounds in Placerville California to raise money for their high school jazz band so they could take a trip.
The band had been invited to play at a prestigious event that was going to cost more than the school district could afford to pay for their airfare to the venue and back. So we all went to play the gig that night, and before the show started one of the ladies that was working at the gate came over and pointed at Jack Sadler across the room and asked me do you know who the gentleman is? She said he just gave me $50 to donate to the cause for the band. So I said to her; don’t you know who that man is? She answered no. So I told her, that dear lady is the Lone Ranger, turn around and walked off with a grin on my face. But wait, that’s not the end of the story. Back in those days I was heavy into making belt buckles , and I had promised one to Jack Sadler, it took me about four hours to design the buckle, and a couple of days to build it. It was made out of copper plate with Jack’s name and the words of the design etched into the front of it. I got out my Latin/English dictionary, and as close as I could come to saying Hi Yo Silver in Latin is”,festinarae tu argentum”. I finished making this belt buckle, I mailed it to Jack with an explanation concerning the wording on it. The very next time I saw Jack was at the Coloma California gold discovery days the following January. When Jack got there that day we were all standing around a big bonfire and a great big jam session was going on. There is probably 50 or 60 people standing around the jam, so Jack climbed about halfway up the back stairway of the Grange Hall and yelled at us; Festinare Tu Argentum! A couple guys standing next to Vern and I said, who the hell is that weirdo? Vern said, darned if I know and turned back a round with a sly grin on his face, and Jack just kind of slunk back down the stairs and disappeared in the crowd. Jack told us later that was the meanest thing we ever done to him, and we had a good laugh over it all.
Keith and I had a good time remembering that jam session that day so long ago.
Keith reminded me of the time we went to play a gig over in the Bay Area back about 74 or 75, and Delbert had a half pint of spirits in his back pocket and unbeknownst to him the lid was just barely screwed on. He sat down backstage in one of those plastic chairs and by the time he felt something getting wet, it was way too late! He did not turn his back on the audience one time that day. Ah yes, the glamour of being a bluegrass musician never ends.
We remembered a lot of good stories, and relived a lot of the good times we had together, but Keith told me one of the most beautiful stories that I will ever hear in my life that day. When his father died here some years ago I went to his memorial service in Georgetown California, and it was well attended by family and friends, and it was a great celebration of life for his father Ray Little. Keith’s father was well into his 80s, and I knew that he had passed away as a result of a fall he suffered at his home. But here’s the good part. They had placed Keith’s father on life support, but the family all agreed that Ray would not want that. So Keith told me that they took their musical instruments to his father’s room, and as the medical staff took him off of life support,, they all picked and sang him across Jordan to the next camp. I told Keith that is a most beautiful way to go across Jordan, and I only wish I could be that lucky when it comes my time to cross over as well. Rest in peace dear friend.
