From an email to Janet Evans -
March
14, 2007 - Thanks for the kind words, Janet. I'd like to think I
have a decade or two left in me, but there are no guarantees. It's
a safe bet I won't be hit by one of those high-speed Japanese trains,
or get trampled to oblivion by stampeding sheep in Australia, or
freeze my knickers off in Siberia, or... now that I think of it,
there are a wealth of possible tragic fates I can be reasonably
certain of avoiding. And, whether the glass is half full or half
empty,
I plan to drain it before I go. :)
-
Leather
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Excerpts from Leather's emails following the November 2008 gathering
in New Orleans -
* * *
November 14, 2008 - Those were several wonderful days,
my friends. Of course, that's no surprise any more; I know well
by now that time around any of you is well spent, rewarding and
good for the heart, spirit and soul.
Memory Lane is but one of the paths we're walking. Something new
is always being added to our experience of each other: new songs;
first times going certain places together; stories we hadn't heard
before; conversations long overdue; "new" faces and voices
from the past, as more people from the Wrong Place days show up
to join the celebration.
And then, there's the ever-present and well-shared feeling that
even those of us who can't be at this or that particular gathering
are with us nonetheless, and the ones not physically in attendance
who still have mailing addresses or computer access will see the
photos and hear the recordings and vicariously experience the reunions
and take pleasure in them. The bonds of love and friendship between
us are strengthened year by year.
Here I am telling you things you already know, but I'm confident
that I'll be excused for it. We've long ago accepted each other
for who we are, and that, my friends, is a great feeling.
- Leather
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November
16, 2008 - New Orleans is, of course, the best place for
reminiscing about the early days, especially since most, if not
all, of the places we were familiar with way back when are still
there (the names of some have been changed, although somehow I doubt
it was to protect the innocent). Katrina spared the Quarter and
the business district.
Many of the reunioners had lunch together at a popular restaurant
out Canal Street, in what used to be Smokey's living room. Kenny
and I shared a muffelatta (sp?) sandwich on Decatur (warning: the
ingredients are still the same, just not piled on as thickly as
I remember them), sat in Jackson Square where Babe Stovall (and
many of us) played for smiles and coins, then joined Walter and
a friend of his for coffee and beignets at the Cafe du Monde...
this after visiting several Quarter landmarks, such as the Head
Inn and various addresses where some of us lived during the Wrong
Place era. The ghosts or spirits of many we haven't seen in decades
were walking those narrow streets or hanging around the Square that
day: Bill Quade, Renee Harrod, J.B., Buster Holmes, Ruthie the duck
lady, etc. We
gathered one afternoon in front of 1204 N. Rampart for the spreading
of Charlie's ashes.
It took a long time, as I understand it, to construct the causeway
across Lake Pontchartrain; but how easily and how quickly we fortunate
few were able to span thirty-five years, during those few days in
New Orleans! How vividly we recalled where and how each of us first
met, and what we were all like back then. Reunions elsewhere are
wonderful for those of us who can attend; but a reunion in New Orleans
is wonderful for the people and the places, the sights and sounds
and smells and tastes and feelings, the memories that come rushing
and flooding in like water over the levees. Simple things like riding
the trollies, hearing a jazz ensemble play When The Saints Go Marching
In, strolling down Bourbon Street and seeing what has changed and
what hasn't... Only in New Orleans, my friends. Only in New Orleans.
- Leather
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