I had lunch today with my old friend, Bill Kuhre (he’s 83, a
whopping 13 years my senior). He’s a retired professor of English, commie
pinko, and Lutheran Minister (in no particular order). We enjoy each other’s
company. I lent him a copy of a DVD I’d just received on the Boston shrine to
the early folk movement, Club 47. Opened in 1958, Club 47 launched the careers
of scores of luminaries from the early ‘60’s Folk and Blues scene. It also
provided a venue for the then newly rediscovered giants of Blues music and I
saw the faces of former clients (members of the Memphis Blues Caravan) Bukka
White and Sleepy John Estes among a featured handful of others of their ilk. Bill
allowed as how Ohio University, back in the day, played host to a few of the
greats as well, mentioning Sonny Terry and Brownie McGee in particular.
I had the pleasure of meeting Sonny and Brownie a couple of
times. Both instances are treasured memories – but the one that really stands
out was a cold night in late September in ’72 or ’73. The Caravan had been
booked on an outdoor show at some college in Wisconsin along with Sonny and
Brownie. As we pulled into the motel parking lot the afternoon of the gig,
walking out of the office, , there they were. The tour bus stopped, I was the
first one off. I called after them. We shook hands. Then, one by one, off the
bus came the Caravan members. I stood by the door, by my side stood the two of
them. I introduced them to each guy as he emerged. “Sonny and Brownie, meet
Bukka White. Meet Hammy Nixon. Meet Sleepy John Estes. Meet Furry Lewis. Meet
Houston Stackhouse. Meet Joe Willie Wilkins. Meet Piano Red.”
