I first knew Merritt forty years ago when I lived in Berkeley and Merritt lived in Orinda. He and I and our wives would occasionally do things together and we saw each other often at the wonderful folk camps we used to have in the West: Rock Haven, Sweets Mill, Mt. Diablo, Marin County under the Golden Gate Bridge (what was that camp?). Thinking of these names brings back magic memories.

What a wonderful voice he had. Whenever I could get him to, I would put him on in the after-hours concerts I used to run at the Berkeley Folk Festival.

Does anyone else remember that Merritt made a movie back then? Somehow a film maker got him to put on a little troubadour outfit and filmed him singing several songs out in the woods. He was profoundly embarrassed about the film, but I showed it in a workshop at the festival one year anyway.

I lost track of him when he moved North at the end of the sixties. I didn't see him again until he came to Indian Neck a few years ago. I had no idea that he would be there. "Merritt Herring!? Here!?" I said, as I jumped up when Dick Levine mentioned his name. Dick laughed and said that Merritt had had the same reaction when he told Merritt that I was there.

He stayed with Marnie and me later that year before and after Pinewoods where he was on the staff. It was so good to have him back in my life. I was looking forward to what I hoped would be many future visits.

He was a good man. He, and his singing, touched many people during his life.