Monday, January 7, 10:30 PM...I'm reading some articles on "Zite" a magazine app that I have on my i-Pad. As I scroll through the articles I see one by James Fallows with a photo of Richard Ben Cramer on it..."cool" I think to myself, I have to read this. As it turned out to my great sadness Fallows, who had never met Richard, was posting a tribute and announcement of Richard's passing that very night. Yesterday the print and media world was flooded with word of Richard's passing, his great literary achievements, awards and wide ranging body of work.
I suppose that it is one of the joys of living in a small community that I knew a different Richard. We first met in my studio about 14 years ago. He took a wood working class that I taught...way back when there was a Chester River Art and Craft. Somewhere I have a photograph of teaching that class. Richard is in the photo along with several other people. I'm still struck with the intensity of his observation in the photo. I guess it should come as no surprise...he was a writer of the first order and certainly the power of observation was one of the many tools he employed in his craft. If you're good at what you do, in any field, those traits become a part of whom you are.
Once in a blue moon he'd stop in to see what was going on in the world of woodworking. For a while he had thought of setting up a shop in one of his barns. We talked about it. He decided against it. Perhaps it was our New York roots, or maybe the fact that both of our mothers had worked long hard hours in the garment district of Manhattan, but whenever we got together, however briefly, we laughed a lot...at each other, at the ironies of the world...and we talked about bread. Whenever I saw him, we'd talk about New York. If I had recently visited there, I'd tell him what I'd brought back...bagels, fennel bread, baguettes, bocconcini. We talked about the hope that someday there would be great bread here in Chestertown...and we'd laugh...at out folly for thinking such thoughts...at ourselves for harboring such desires.
I had not seen very much of Richard the past few years but when "Evergrain" opened we finally started to run into one another more ofter...more hugs, more laughs and, much to our delight, there was great bread in our lives. We even got to sit down one afternoon, share some coffee, bread, laughs and conversation...the simple joys in life.
When I think of bread...I remember early Sunday mornings, my father and brother are walking with me...we're walking back home from the French Bakery on West 4th Street in the Greenwich Village of the early 1960's. My father is holding a warm baguette...my brother and I tearing off small pieces to eat on the way back. I suspect that in my mind, Richard will also be there...walking with us.
But once a month I get to come here with "the band" and play music...First Saturdays...this Saturday, February 2nd...7 PM. That's the Pam Ortiz Band, all original music with Ford Schumann on guitar, Nevin Dawson on Viola/violin, and newest member, Philip Dutton on piano. Pam's music and writing blends blues, folk,and jazz with well crafted lyrics and imagery. We'll be a quartette on Saturday - Nevin is in Punta Arenas, South America.
