Coincidences,
creating a strange connection with a person you don’t actually know, at pivotal
times in your lifetime, can leave you with a feeling of kinship.
At forty-one
years of age, my wife at twenty-eight, we bought an old farmhouse for ten thousand
dollars. We had no electricity, we
carried our water from the creek behind the house, read by lamplight and heated
with firewood – and became freshmen at the University of Maine.
One night
after a late class we found there was to be entertainment at the commons. That
was the first time we heard Dave Mallett.
Just before
graduation, we blanketed Alaska rural school districts with applications for
teaching positions. A week before
graduation, we celebrated by making dinner reservations at 1 Stanley Avenue
in Kingfield, Maine. A historic old
house, the owners prepared gourmet meals by reservation only for a limited
number of guests.
A week later
we loaded up in our small Toyota pickup, and as we pulled out of our yard
headed for Alaska, I popped in a tape of Dave Mallett singing North to Alaska.
One summer
we returned to New England on vacation and found Dave Mallett performing at a
bar in Bar Harbor, Maine.
After
teaching for eight years in the Alaska bush, we decided to return to the
lower-forty-eight. As we approached the
border between Alaska and Yukon’s Alcan Highway, Alaska Public Radio announced
a song by the Maine artist Dave Mallett, and as we physically left Alaska Dave
Mallett was singing on our radio.
Several years later we returned to Maine. The first summer back we attended the Common Ground Fair, one of the largest organic farming fairs in New England. On the events list, we found that Dave Mallett was going to play that night. So that night we got a blanket from our car, sat on the ground, and listened to Dave Mallet.
CELEBRATION
We have
attended two other Dave Mallett concerts when he performed in our area.
Two nights
ago, Dave Mallett died at his home at the age of seventy-three.
Though we
never actually knew him, it has come as a shock to both my wife and I.
the Ol’Buzzard