I started this last Sunday, July 24 but I only managed to finish it today.



Yesterday was an extremely sad day. I’m still trying to cope with the
realization that Bill has left us and that Carol and I will never get to see him
in concert again, where he would have you laughing so hard with his stories and
observations, and then wrench your heart with one of his poignant songs.

It must have been 1992 when I first heard of Bill. I used to subscribe to a
magazine I believe was called CD REVIEW which was an independent put out by
Wayne Greene in New Hampshire, if I remember correctly. There was a glowing
review of the new Bill Morrissey album “Inside”, so I ordered a copy. After
it arrived I put it on and I was absolutely blown away. What well written songs!
What a voice! I played it again and again, and immediately ordered his previous
CD’s from Rounder. When they arrived I put the Bill Morrissey CD on. Barstow
was the first song Bill recorded? It’s brilliant. The line where he’s
grateful he can’t see his own eyes gets me every time. (I know that this was a
re-recording of his first album. I’ve never been able to track down a copy of
the original.) There were great songs on the first two albums – I love Ice
Fishing – and then I put on “Standing Eight”. It simply floored me. It was
so good I couldn’t believe I had never heard of it previously. This was before
I had a computer though, and living in the comparative wilds of New Brunswick,
Canada if it wasn’t country or mainstream rock you weren’t going to hear it
on the radio.

My favourite male singer-songwriter has always been Bob Dylan. The next two I
would have listed before I heard Bill would be Neil Young and Leonard Cohen.
After I heard Bill, he was immediately in a tie for second with them. Anyway, I
got my first computer in December of 1995. I discovered that Bob Dylan was doing
a three night stand in Portland, ME at the State Theatre the next April. They
were benefit shows in an attempt to save the theatre. We couldn’t make the
Friday show, but we got tickets for Saturday and Sunday. Then, lo and behold,
after some searching for Bill I discovered he was playing in Portland on the
same Saturday night. I had no idea what kind of venue it was, but I assumed it
would be a club and that maybe we could make it to Bill’s final set. After the
Dylan concert Carol and I grabbed a cab and headed to Bill’s venue. Surprise,
it was a restaurant/ bar and when we got there it was empty save for some
waiters cleaning up. We looked around and saw two men in conversation sitting at
the bar. Could that small man be Bill? How could that gruff gravelly voice
resonate from such a diminutive man? Then he turned and we got a clear look at
his face. Sure enough, there he was in the flesh. We went over and introduced
ourselves and told him what huge fans we were and that we were sorry to have
missed him but that we had just come from a Dylan concert. Bill just grinned and
said “How’s old Bob doing these days?” He was extremely pleasant and asked
where we were from and how long a drive it was, etc. He then told us he played
at The Left Bank Cafe in Blue Hill Maine every August and that he would be doing
three shows there later that year. We said great, we’ll be there.

As it turned out, Bill was opening for Joan Baez on a tour out west and so he
had to cancel the first of the three shows, but we were there for the two he
did. After the first night we hung around and re-introduced ourselves. “Bill,
you probably don’t remember us but we’re the assholes who went to see Dylan
last April instead of seeing you.” He blinked and then smiled and said
“You’re from New Brunswick, right?” We spoke a bit and assured him that we
loved the show and after finding out we would be there again the next night Bill
actually asked us if we had a request. I requested Long Gone and I told Bill
that I loved the lyric

“Now I’m standing in the doorway of your front hall

Ain’t this better than a letter or a phone call”

and that I really liked the mini rhyme in the main one. Bill seemed genuinely
pleased, but he said he would have to practice it because he hadn’t done it
for a while. I can’t remember if Ellen was there that first time in Blue Hill,
but if not we certainly met her there the next August. She was as warm and
friendly as Bill and we were frankly a bit astounded. What I’m trying to
explain is that I was in awe of this talented man and a bit tongue tied and here
he was being one of the nicest most easy going people that I had ever met.

Bill did one show in Blue Hill during the winter. During his summer shows we
stayed at a motel just down the road from the Left Bank, so I phoned them when I
learned of Bill’s show. They said they were closed during the winter, but they
would leave a room open with the key inside and when we left the next day we
could lock the room and slip the key through the mail slot. That was very
unexpected and appreciated. I remember that show for two things. There was a
wood pellet stove that would fire up once in a while making cracking sounds.
Bill remarked that it was like playing in a theatre lobby next to the popcorn
machine. The other thing was that Bill played Pantherville (the only time I
heard it live) and he was strumming, searching for “put down those dishes,
daughter”. His eyes met mine and I cued him and away he went.

I think it was during the winter after our second trip to Blue Hill that I came
home one Friday night after being at the Opera House (our local, since burned
down) and read that Bill had just done a show and that he had trouble
remembering the lyrics to several of his songs. In a classic case of the pot
calling the kettle black I posted on Birches that it sounded to me like Bill was
back on the bottle. That created quite a firestorm on the Birches list and it
certainly taught me to stay away from the keyboard when I was drunk. I
apologized on the list and I wrote Bill and Ellen an apology letter as well. I
actually felt so bad that I didn’t know if we should go to Blue Hill the next
summer or not, but Carol and I loved Bill’s shows so much we decided we had to
go. We got to The Left Bank and there were Bill and Ellen having supper. I was
hanging my head and I apologized again but Ellen got up and gave me a hug and
said not to worry, that they had no hard feelings at all. Bill actually invited
us to dine with them the following evening, which we did. The Left Bank was
amazing, by the way. The food was delicious and they also had a bakery so the
aromas in there were enticing morning, noon and night. The place closed not long
after that unfortunately and Bill later remarked that he missed it as well. It
was a place he enjoyed and he regarded it as a bit of a vacation each summer.

I did get back to Blue Hill one last time. Bill did a benefit for Liberty School
at the First Congregational Church in March of 1999. I found out about it at the
last minute and the weather report was favourable so I hopped into the car and
headed out on the 6½ hour drive. Carol couldn’t make that one for a reason
that escapes me now. I arrived about forty minutes before show time and took a
seat. Ellen spotted me in the audience and came right over to invite me to the
green room to say hello to Bill. We chatted for a while, catching up on things
and I’m sitting there still in awe that this supremely talented man is just so
damned nice. He then proceeded to put on another fine performance, with the
Liberty School choir joining in on Louis Collins near the end which was a
fitting touch. At one point he remarked how different coffee houses looked these
days, and asked people not to touch the stained glass windows because he had
just finished painting them that afternoon.

The next time we saw Bill after that was at Slate’s in Hallowell, Maine. We
were unfamiliar with how to get there and we barely arrived in time for the
show. Bill spotted us from the stage and gave us a smile and a wave and then
proceeded with another fine show. Afterwards he invited us back to his room for
a chat, where he told us that he and Ellen had split up but that they were still
friends and that she was still his manager. I also remember that we had a
discussion about Leonard Cohen that evening and Bill said that although he poked
fun at Leonard onstage he was indeed a fan of his, when he was in the right mood
of course. We didn’t want to stay too long because we felt he might be tired
but Bill was in no hurry to get rid of us. He said it was a nice change to be
able to unwind with friends after a show, which was very nice of him.

In November of 2001 Bob Dylan was going to play Manchester, NH on the 21st and
then Portland, ME on the 23rd and we decided to get to those shows. I checked
Bill’s schedule and saw nothing, so I e-mailed Ellen to see if maybe Bill was
playing someplace local around then. She wrote back that no, he wasn’t but
that she had spoken to him and he’d be delighted if we could drop in to see
him on Bob’s off day. I phoned Bill in the morning of the 22nd and he gave me
directions to his place. He warned me that it was tricky to find, and that if I
had to stop to ask a local they may not help because the area residents in
Tamworth were very protective of his privacy. After some trial and error we did
manage to find Bill’s cabin and we spent a wonderful afternoon with him. I
mentioned our contact with Ellen and he told us that he and Ellen were still
great friends, and then with a twinkle in his eye he said in a way he was lucky
because most musicians just get to do one divorce album. We discussed music,
politics, movies and anything else that popped up. Bill had a room with what
looked like lots of recording equipment, but he said he was hoping to get some
more gear and turn it into a proper recording studio. He said he had been to a
Dylan concert in the past year but it wasn’t for him. He felt it was way too
loud and he didn’t care for the way Bob continually changes the arrangements
of his songs. Plus he didn’t like that Bob no longer does two or three
acoustic numbers. He loved the movie Round Midnight. I like it too, but I
couldn’t help thinking that maybe Bill identified with it a little too
closely. I sent him a copy later anyway. He told us of a short European tour
that he had recently completed and how he had enjoyed it. He asked if we were
familiar with Eric Taylor or David Francey’s music and recommended that we
check them out. He had especially high praise for Francey. They’re okay, but
they don’t punch me in the gut and pierce me through the heart like Bill does.
We also discussed fishing, and I said it would be great if he could get up to
the Miramichi for a few days sometime and do some salmon fishing. He said he’d
love that and wondered if it would be possible to do a gig or two at the same
time. I said I’d try but I was sorry to tell him that although Carol and I
shared his music with our friends he was for the most part unknown in our area.
I later gave some of his music to the Director of the Miramichi Folksong
Festival and urged her to book him, but she wasn’t interested. After a
fabulous day we gave Bill a hug and left for our hotel room in Portland.

The following June Bill was performing in Unity, Maine at the Unity Centre for
the Performing Arts, so it was time to gas up and hit the trail again. We
managed to find it in time, barely, and it turned out to be a very nice venue.
Bill came onstage and I have to say that we were shocked. Bill was always slight
but he looked almost skeletal. Despite that he put on a fine show with the nice
bonus of having his friend Cormac McCarthy along. He accompanied Bill on the
harmonica on several songs and it was a very nice addition. We found out after
the show that Cormac had a place in the area and that Bill was going to hang out
there for a bit. After Bill had finished dealing with his fans after the show in
his pleasant manner we had a brief chat and a quick beer in the parking lot and
then he was off with Cormac and we headed to our room in Bangor. On our drive
home the next day we discussed how skinny and frail Bill looked and I wondered
if I should take some time off from work and go to Tamworth for a few days, at
least long enough to try to get him to eat. I didn’t do it of course. I’ve
always felt that I want to live my life my way and so that means everybody else
should have that right as well. I was deeply concerned though.

In March of 2003 Bill was performing in Brewer, ME at the Brewer Middle School.
I contacted Ellen and she got back saying that Bill would be there for a sound
check around 4:00 PM and that we were welcome to be there. As luck would have it
we pulled into the parking lot at exactly the same time and I had the honour of
carrying Bill’s guitars. We were glad to see that Bill looked more like
himself. He hadn’t bulked up or anything but he looked much better than the
previous summer. It was fun experiencing the sound check and then when it was
over we got to spend a couple of hours with Bill in the green room. Later on
there were a couple of other people there and it was suggested that Bill might
need a little quiet time before the show. The room cleared out and we were
getting ready to go when Bill motioned us back with his eyes. That was so nice
of him and I guess it shows how comfortable Bill and Carol and myself were with
each other. After the show I carried his gear back out to the car, so I guess I
can claim I was a roadie for Bill Morrissey.

In October of 2004 Carol and I along with friends David and Beth ventured to
Bill’s gig at The Stone Church in Newmarket, NH. It was David and Beth’s
first Bill show and it was fitting that they see him where he more or less got
his start. As an added bonus Cormac McCarthy was there as well to accompany Bill
on a few songs. Things were a bit rushed after the show because there was
another act playing for the young set and they were urging the wrinklies out.
Bill was at the front selling CD’s but he graciously took time to have his
picture taken with Carol and Beth and have a quick word. We said we’d catch
him again and left for Portland. That was the last time we saw him, I’m so
sorry to say. David and Beth were game for another trip but Bill’s schedule
and ours didn’t mesh, and then he went into rehab and he wasn’t performing
for a while. We were glad to hear that he was back on the road this year and we
were definitely going just as soon as he played somewhere relatively close, say
no more than nine or ten hours away. Then came the sad news from July 23rd. I
still can’t believe he’s gone.

After the first time we saw Bill I asked him if it was okay with him if I
recorded his shows. He looked at me and asked “You’re not a bootlegger, are
you?” I assured him I wasn’t but I would love to have the shows as souvenirs
and that I would not spread them around. He said that was fine but as fate or
luck or whatever would have it I never did manage to get what I consider a good
recording of one of his shows. With Bill’s permission I plugged into the
soundboard at the Brewer concert, but wouldn’t you know that the soundman put
too much reverb/echo on Bill’s voice. It was noticeable at the show but I was
hoping the recording I was getting was pre-reverb. Alas, no. Also there’s some
static on it. He also allowed me to plug in at the Stone Church, but I
couldn’t because the console had no available slots. Still, thanks to Bill’s
incredible generosity I do have souvenirs of some of his shows that help to
spark the memories. I sent Bill a couple of the shows that I thought weren’t
too bad but he never mentioned them so I took that to mean he didn’t think
much of the recordings.

I don’t know how to end this. Bill had his own troubles, but he could connect
with people so strongly that you really got the feeling that you knew him by
just listening to his songs. Carol and I were so lucky to have had the privilege
of actually meeting and becoming friends with Bill, and I will miss him forever.



Tim



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