Everything posted above is true, so I'm not going to repeat the words already spoken, if I can. Pat was a lot like Bruce Phillips, and Spaw was a lot like Utah Phillips. The former were loving souls; patient, erudite, deep thinking, and caring about the important things while appreciating the small unnoticed beautiful details of this world.
Some few years ago, he and I arranged to meet in a small town we both knew, about the same distance from our homes. My kids couldn't make it, but Karen and the boys did. We all had a good time, and he showed himself to be such a good dad with those two bouncy boys in a diner booth. He'd remarked in a post that he was really kind of a quiet guy in real life, but he showed that he enjoyed a good visit with the best of them.
A couple of years ago, my daughter Amy and I were able to visit them all at Chez Patterson, but the only day we could do it was on Easter. What a lovely home! (it goes beyond "a nice house", and I think that Karen must simply forbid dust.) We didn't feel like we were intruding (I was a bit worried about that), and before we left, we saw the actual original possum ocarina, Cletus himself. We had so much fun we imposed ourselves on them the next Easter.

In reading all of these posts, one thing hasn't really been mentioned. Spaw was no fool, he knew that he was important and influential here. But he never alluded to it, and never threw his weight around, Unless he told one of us to get our fat ass out of a hospital bed, or something.

WYSIWIG was kind enough to call me this morning (many thanks) to let me know about all of this, and then I went to church. The first hymn was called And Are We Yet Alive, and I nearly bust out laughing/crying through the whole song. Thhanks, Spaw.