In Remembrance
I haven't cried so much since...well, in a long time. I just got word that Dan Fogelberg passed on yesterday, after a three year battle with cancer. I'd been getting updates from his site since 2004, trying to keep informed, and keep hope alive. This was a wonderful man, a gifted spirit, and I remember the last concert I attended, on the riverfront, and it was his.
We sat in the outdoor theatre, but three rows from the front, and watched heavy clouds roll overhead, threatening rain. When it hit, in sheets thick as lead, we thought that it would shut down the show.
Not a chance.
Dan went on playing, though the stage was slick and wires crisscrossed underfoot; he stepped over them, sometimes acting, in fun, that he'd been "zapped", and kicked at the water like a kid chasing puddles. He sang all the more passionately for the thunder; it seemed to be some divine accompaniment, and he had us all up, dancing in the rain and singing along with him for all we were worth. He cracked jokes and we couldn't leave him, even if we'd wanted to. And we didn't. As long as he was staying, so would we.
It was the best, most joyous time I've ever had.
And it saddens me more than I can express that this dear, sweet voice must be silenced. The world itself has fallen dumb today.
"Seldom seen
A scarecrow's dream
I hang in the hopes of replacement
Castles tall
I built them all
But I dream that I'm trapped in
The basement.
And if you ever hear me calling out
And if you've been by paupers crowned
Between the worlds of men and make-believe
I can be found.
Plans I've made
A masquerade
Fading in fear of the coming day
Heroes tales
Like nightingales
Wrestle the wind as they run away.
And if you ever hear them calling out
And if you've been by paupers crowned
Between the worlds of men and make-believe
I can be found.
Garden gate
An empty plate
Waiting for someone to come and fill
Scarecrows dreams
Like frozen streams
Thirst for the fall
But they're running still.
And if you ever hear me calling out
And if you've been by paupers crowned
Between the worlds of men and make-believe
I can be found."
We'll look for you there, Dan, "between the worlds of men and make believe".
Rest easy.
You will not be forgotten.
We sat in the outdoor theatre, but three rows from the front, and watched heavy clouds roll overhead, threatening rain. When it hit, in sheets thick as lead, we thought that it would shut down the show.
Not a chance.
Dan went on playing, though the stage was slick and wires crisscrossed underfoot; he stepped over them, sometimes acting, in fun, that he'd been "zapped", and kicked at the water like a kid chasing puddles. He sang all the more passionately for the thunder; it seemed to be some divine accompaniment, and he had us all up, dancing in the rain and singing along with him for all we were worth. He cracked jokes and we couldn't leave him, even if we'd wanted to. And we didn't. As long as he was staying, so would we.
It was the best, most joyous time I've ever had.
And it saddens me more than I can express that this dear, sweet voice must be silenced. The world itself has fallen dumb today.
"Seldom seen
A scarecrow's dream
I hang in the hopes of replacement
Castles tall
I built them all
But I dream that I'm trapped in
The basement.
And if you ever hear me calling out
And if you've been by paupers crowned
Between the worlds of men and make-believe
I can be found.
Plans I've made
A masquerade
Fading in fear of the coming day
Heroes tales
Like nightingales
Wrestle the wind as they run away.
And if you ever hear them calling out
And if you've been by paupers crowned
Between the worlds of men and make-believe
I can be found.
Garden gate
An empty plate
Waiting for someone to come and fill
Scarecrows dreams
Like frozen streams
Thirst for the fall
But they're running still.
And if you ever hear me calling out
And if you've been by paupers crowned
Between the worlds of men and make-believe
I can be found."
We'll look for you there, Dan, "between the worlds of men and make believe".
Rest easy.
You will not be forgotten.