The first time I heard Joan Baez was when I walked into a record store I used to frequent. The fellow who ran the place was just putting a needle on a record and said, "Hey, listen to this!" 1960. Joan's first record. It started off with "Silver Dagger," and by two lines into the song, I knew this young lady was major! On the third band, "Fare Thee Well," that cinched it!

Two years later, during the Seattle World's Fair, she sang a concert in the brand new Seattle Opera House to a capacity audience of 3,100 people. At intermission, a friend I went to the concert with said, "There's a party at Dotty's tonight, and she said to come on over after the concert. I'm going backstage and see if I can get close enough to Joan to ask her if she'd like to go." I figured, "A for initiative, Dave, but—" Well, he did talk to her, and it turns out she had been in town for three days, didn't know anybody here, and was feeling a bit lonely. Yes, she would like to go to the party!

I waited in the car while Dave met her backstage, and we headed off to Dotty's place. She seemed almost a little shy at first, but she was friendly. She didn't sing at the party (she'd already sung for an hour and a half, and she said she was afraid she might be on the verge of a cold), but she was interested in hearing other people sing.

As the hour grew late and the party wound down, Bob (Deckman) Nelson had a quick inspiration and asked her if she'd like to pick up her baggage at the hotel and stay with him and his wife that night. Since they lived near the Sea-Tac airport, she could sleep in a bit and he would drive her the short hop to the airport in time to catch her plane. "Great!" she said. She hadn't been looking forward to the long cab ride in the morning.

Two years later, I attended the 1964 Berkeley Folk Festival where Joan was one of the featured performers. I had just come out of one of the morning workshops and was heading out to grab lunch when I almost literally ran into a dark-haired young woman in cut-offs and sandals coming up the stairs. It was Joan. Darned if she didn't recognize me from the party in Seattle! We chatted for a few minutes, then she went in to check the arrangements for her concert that evening, and I headed off for a sandwich.

At the time, from a distance she had that sort of aloof "Madonna" quality. But at a party or just chatting on the stairs, she was warm and friendly, with an occasionally wicked sense of humor. And exquisitely beautiful.

The ballads in particular. Man, that lady can sing!!

Don Firth