The larks did not sing melodious today. I heard from Patrick Sky that Louis/Louisa Killen was dead.

I first met Louis, through Howard Glasser in Pittsburgh, the first year he came over. We bonded immediately, and our friendship lasted regardless of the years or miles between us. He got me up on stage at Philadelphia Folk Festival in 1968 to play tinwhistle. I cannot begin to acknowledge the debt that I owe to him, for so much that he shared with me. Many the time he stayed at our house, many the songs shared together, whisky and beer beyond all reckoning. Shooting old lever rifles with Walter Scott. Much laughter, and some tears. One of my fondest memories is the two of us playing Clarke whistles, Spalpeen Aroon and The Lament for the Books, and I could feel Louis' harmonies vibrating through my fingertips.

I am glad that Margaret was there at the end.

I think the Heavenly Choir suddenly found their hands filled with taut lines, as the Ship of Heaven cut through billowing waves on high, bound to God doesn't know where, spurred on by the great voice of a wild, shanty-woman - "neither man nor maid": "Mind yer response...and we'll have only honest Geordie sung here, no "proper King's English" (or ye might catch a rope across the knuckles)."

I was pleased to see the photo of Louisa posted by Heather Wood. I had written to Louisa that Louis had made a great man, so I had no doubt that Louisa would make a great woman.

Fair winds, old friend, till we meet again.
Love'
Richard and Carolyn
and our love and sympathies to all of you dear friends.