Caroline and I travelled with Hamish for only a couple of weeks in September, 1958, but his influence on our lives was profound and lasts to this day. We met him at the School of Scottish Studies in Edinburgh, where he proudly encouraged a visiting Jeannie Robertson to record some ballads and songs for us. In one of the obituaries I have read today, it is mentioned that he opened the doors of the School to all, including those without ties to the academic world. How true! I had no credentials at all, not even a high school diploma, but he arranged for me to take one of the School's tape recorders with me to Jeannie's home in Aberdeen, where she and her daughter Lizzie Higgins recorded more songs for us. Hamish joined us at Jeannie's on the weekend and together we set off for Sutherlandshire, by way of Jimmie MacBeath's home in Banff, where we recorded another dozen songs or so, then up through Inverness and Wester Ross to Sutherland.

We travelled to the very northeast corner of the Scottish mainland, looking for a particular family of Travellers. We found them camping near the Kyle of Tongue and to see them welcome Hamish into their midst was like witnessing the return of the prodigal son. We camped there with them, recording Ossian tales told in Scots Gaelic by Blind Sandy Stewart, the beloved elder of the group. You can see photographs of this adventure in Timothy Neat's lovely book, The Summer Walkers. About a dozen of the photos in the book are mine, but (alas) were credited to Bobby Botsford, who was there the year before we were. There's even one photo that I took of Caroline, holding our then six-month old David, with Jeannie Robertson beaming by her side. (To salve my pride, please note that the photos of that group of Travellers that are in sharp focus are mine.) I treasure a letter from Timothy Neat apologizing for the error in the photo credits. Fair enough. I gave Hamish some photographs; he gave me the inspiration to spend my life working with folk music, not just as a singer of the songs, but urging others to listen to the people from whom the songs have come to us.

I came home shortly after that field trip, fired with an undying enthusiasm for collecting and producing records of traditional music, an enthusiasm informed by watching Hamish become one with the folks he was recording, sharing the experience, not merely witnessing it.

Another brief aside: on the way up, we passed a small cluster of men standing by a loch. Hamish spotted them and urged us to turn around and go over to them. He had recognized his old friend, James Robertson Justice, doing his bit to stock salmon in the local waters. Travelling with Hamish was an adventure and an honor, an education and a joyful blast! Thank God he lived as long as he did to influence so many and inspire all those who knew him. He was a great man.

Sandy