I've deleted the sad stuff I've written, and I leave this story as a hug for Justine and a smile for Barry's son and daughter.

Last June at Mystic, not much before sunrise, our small group slipped from shanties and maritime songs into doo wop. We gleefully killed off the dead teenagers. We lost our teen loves. We waked up little Suzy. We dreamed. Any lyric that John Roberts didn't have, Barry could supply. And the other way around too. We all took our turns, but the two of them were as happy as two people can be. There was a glow about them. All of us sang and laughed, laughed and sang. Singing with Barry that night and all the other nights and afternoons, in halls and on sidewalks, from Mystic to Portsmouth... it was a privilege that will fill my heart and soul for many years to come. His legacy is rich with harmonies and warm with smiles. His is a life to celebrate. Thank you, Barry, for being my friend.

Paul