Godspeed, Robert

Though it may be one the last times – probably the last time – the Brothers Three parlay in the Virginia area, I look forward to seeing you again, sooner rather than later.  I’m sure we’ll all eventually recede back to some place meant for us, in our own time, closer together again.  Until then, every time the wind blows warm from the South, I’ll think of melodies and time well wasted with you guys here, our souls and minds wandering, in want of that firm direction home, for which we are all constantly searching.

“A gone shipmate, like any other man, is gone forever; and I never met one of them again. But at times the spring-flood of memory sets with force up the dark River of the Nine Bends.  Then on the waters of the forlorn stream drifts a ship — manned by a crew of Shades.  They pass and make a sign, in a shadowy hail.  Haven’t we, together and upon the immortal sea, wrung out a meaning from our sinful lives?  Goodbye, brothers!  You were a good crowd.  As good a crowd as ever fisted with wild cries the beating canvas of a heavy foresail; or tossing aloft, invisible in the night, gave back yell for yell to a westerly gale.”