My favorite Pavarotti story was told by our landlord at a great B & B just outside London in 2002. He was not a opera buff.

Our host was at a pub in the Covent Garden area, quite a while ago.    Couldn't get served. Bloke down at the end of the bar got the barmaid's attention and got our host- (wish I could remember his name)- served.

In gratitude he asked what his benefactor would like.

Pavarotti: I'll just have a glass of water, thank you.
Host:       No, let me buy you a pint.
Pavarotti: No thank you, a glass of water would be fine.
Host:       Please, let me buy you a drink.
Pavarotti: Thanks, I'm looking after my throat. Water is fine.
Host:       Sing a bit, do you? Chirp a bit? Sing in the choir?
Pavarotti   Yes, I sing a bit.

So Pavarotti got his water and they chatted a bit more.

Then our host got up and walked out on the street--past a big poster--and realized who he'd been chatting with.

A big man in appearance and talent--but still a man of the people--of the folk. RIP.