Ever on, Dan.
I got the news from my sister. She called me at home. I was just on the internet the week before looking to find any news about your condition and hopefully news about improvement of your health.
Maybe there would be a note about a new album coming out, or a brief appearance on satellite radio or television.
I started playing the guitar in high school. While most of my friends were focused on Black Flag, AC/DC, and Zeppelin (mind you, I also listened to this music), I was "discovering" your music. Your genius with the guitar and composition.
My first Fogelberg album was Phoenix. Face the Fire grabbed me and I learned to play it. Through high school and college I had your music within reach to comfort me and my ever changing moods.
My go to album? Souvenirs.
To me, every song on that album is crafted with perfection. I still am trying to learn all these tunes. I doubt I ever will, but it is fun to try.
My sister and I used to listen to The Innocent Age.
It is something that the two of us can share. We don't have a lot of stuff that we both really like, but listening to that album was something special for us.I went to see you at the Celebrity Theater with a buddy of mine. The Celebrity is such small venue, and watching you work the guitar was incredible.
I made lots of mix tapes, and inevitably, your tunes made it into every one of them. I had your music as the soundtrack of my life all through college in my now ancient Walkman. During college I had three artists that molded my thoughts and moods: Dan Fogelberg, Jimmy Buffett, and James Taylor. After college, your music was there too. I even wrote you a fan letter once.
Greetings from the West is fantastic.
I took the liner notes and taped them up to the shelves above my desk. I was working as an assistant buyer. I stared at a green DOS OS screen all day. I could look up and see the liner notes and the album cover, and I could travel in my mind to the prairies and mountains of Colorado.
You came to Sun City and performed acoustically. You had just gotten married and you mentioned that your new wedding ring kept hitting the neck of your guitar. The girls in the audience all "awwwwed" that you were married, and the men laughed that your ring clicked on the neck as you played. I took my mom to that show, and it was the last concert that she and I went to together. She passed away this year. It's a memory I'll cherish forever.
The entire buying office was laid off after another store bought ours. So, there I was, unemployed and depressed. What did I do? I drove to Colorado to visit one of my best friends, Tom. I hooked up my boom box to a couple of bookshelf speakers. I placed the speakers on the floor boards of my little Ford Ranger. I had a great sound system that played nothing but your tunes--especially Greetings from the West . I drove non-stop to Colorado, and after a week or so there, a camping trip in the Rockies, a little giardia I drove home non-stop.
Well, now you're gone. The music you left behind will be the only memories we will have, and what memories they are.
