Boy this is crazy. I was writing a piece about my early life for my children and began to think of Tex, who I roomed with in Montreal in 1968. So I went online to see if I could find any photos and, wow, I found these wonderful tributes written on Mudcat. All my memories of Tex came flooding back like a tidal wave.

Talk about an odd couple of roomies we were. I had moved to Montreal from the West Coast and was working at the Yellow Door and living in the attic. Tex, a regular, said he was looking for a roommate. I jumped at the chance for no other reason than I needed to get out of the attic. Through that fall and winter I had the privilege of getting to know that mountain of a man, Tex Koenig. He showed this seventeen-year-old kid how to survive in a big city. Everything you have brought up about his love of Chinese food, guns, knives, nylon strings, cultured nails, his vest, his duffel, the chop sticks in his pocket, and, most of all, his stories, all brought it back to me. I still cherish the four am morning walks to score fresh black bread on the Main. Peace be with you man.

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https://rateyourmusic.com/artist/tex-konig