I saw Bill Monroe at the Gettysburg Bluegrass Festival (Pennsylvania) a couple of years before he died. For the afternoon performance, people started filing into their seats in the hot sun, on the side lawns, in the shaded tent at the back, everywhere. When his showtime came, they delivered him to the backstage area in a golf cart. The entire audience stood to watch the cart rolling along, with people cheering, clapping, crying. When he walked out onto the stage, the field erupted again with the most amazing cheers and tears.

It was like watching the pope arrive, almost a spiritual experience. Not just because of this man, this icon who named the music we all love and who played it and defined it so well, but for the whole lifestyle. Every one of us there realized that because of this man, we were immersed in a sub-culture that brought us so much joy, so many new friends and so much music. The tears were thank-you's to him for giving us bluegrass.

The man was in his 80's, but he put on an incredible performance. During one number, he started hunching over and slowly drooping closer to the floor with each verse. We all craned our necks to watch him, afraid that something was wrong. Finally one of the band members asked another what was going on, speaking into the vocal mic. The other answered, "Bill's just GETTIN' DOWN!"