I took a drive up to Boston when Barry was waiting for his liver transplant about a decade ago. His story was a very moving one and he seemed like such a great guy who was undoubtedly concerned for his family, probably bored beyond belief and most likely could use a little company. We talked for an hour and a half and, given the odd circumstances, probably revealed more about ourselves than 2 guys ordinarily would. It was very enjoyable and time well spent.

We met Barry many times. If we'd lived anywhere near him, we probably would've seen him a couple of times a week because he and my wife really hit it off.

Friday's news was totally shocking. Anyone following Barry's "mountain railroad" life would have imagined a different end for a guy who kept so many of us sitting on the edge of our chairs for so long. But, when you have to go, waiting for someone to bring you ice is a gentle way. I'm grateful he had it easy. I'm extremely sorry for Justine and the kids that it was so sudden.   

Barry must have had a million friends. It was snowing to beat the band for 240 of the 280 miles going up and back. The funeral parlor was a very busy place yesterday afternoon. We saw a lot of Barry's sea and Irish music buddies. Many are Mudcatters of course.

There were 2 or 3 boards with lots of photographs posted on them. Barry in a tuxedo, looking so relaxed that you'd think he was born in one. Barry, in a manly handsome pose, looking like a movie star. Barry in shorts with his shirt hanging out. Many with Barry singing, no doubt very loudly in all of them.

In my experience, Barry was always positive and with a large reservoir of stoicism. If he ever knocked anyone, it was always over quickly with a wave of his hand as if to say, "You've got to consider where it comes from." He was a great, enthusiastic person. You could run into him at 2 AM in Mystic looking to see where the craic was. A hard guy to ignore and entirely loveable.

Farewell, old friend. You were a treasure.

Dan Milner