Early Saturday evening I stood backstage at the Washington Folk Festival and watched as my husband and 13-year-old son played a tune on hammered dulcimer and banjo. I thought about the first time Sam ever played dulcimer in front of other people-a jamming workshop led by Rick, two years ago at the Getaway. I was not at that workshop, but folks who were told me how supportive and encouraging Rick had been; I know that he took the trouble to find me afterwards to comment on Sam's playing. But what I most remember was my son, with shining eyes, telling me about being being asked, by Rick, to play, and how much he, Sam, enjoyed that workshop. It would be difficult to give a boy, or his mom, a better gift.

The wonder of Rick's life is that there are hundreds, maybe thousands, of people with stories like ours to tell, of a man who gave such gifts to so many. I would have liked to have been able to have come to the concert, but I felt very connected to Rick Saturday night so far from Toronto.