We rode the streetcar again yesterday, starting to build a habit. It only got us within five blocks of our destination, so we cut through Powell’s Bookstore with pleasant memories of my step-daughter’s recent marriage in their rare book room. We soon arrived at the historic Roseland Theater where a musical tribute and fundraiser for a former radio colleague with cancer was being staged. He was supposed to be there, but instead it turned out to be a funeral and wake. He was an on-air personality at the stations that I worked for here in Portland and is credited with the development of our local Waterfront Blues Festival. I did not know him well since he primarily existed in the studio, but we often crossed paths at the “Red Counter,” where food was the main attraction. Sponsors seeking free exposure would let us taste their wares and birthdays were celebrated with treats for the staff. 

Like me, he was in the late stages of his career, making relatively too much money with lots of accumulated time off. The trend in the business was younger, cheaper, and better yet robotic. He was eventually the target for a not-to-be renewed contract, while I soon retired. He landed at another station and I never saw him again. I was hoping to see him at this concert, but he died at the age of 56 to Solitary Fibrous Sarcoma, a rare and fatal condition. I thought he was older, but when you get to age 68 like me, ten or fifteen years makes little difference in your appearance. He must have had an old soul, with a laid-back spirit that was quite popular in the community. Music was his life, so the event was an appropriate send-off. On the positive side, I was able to get reacquainted with a few other co-workers but didn’t stay long. We were tired after spending the afternoon at Bergstrom Winery for their annual luncheon and tasting. 

I’m glad we stopped by to say farewell to a friend and make a contribution to his costs of care. He leaves behind a family, who auctioned-off his extensive collection of albums, CDs, concert memorabilia, and probably even 8-Tracks. His “Friday Freeway Blues” show is part of his legacy. I’m sad I didn’t get to say goodbye in person, but I’m sure his body had tragically deteriorated. I can clearly picture him stepping up to the Red Counter, listening for the end of a song that was playing in his studio. Hopefully, he’s smoking a cigarette and enjoying the Heavenly Blues. Farewell my Friend!