By Michael Regenstreif
The past two months have been difficult on all of us. Our
regular day-to-day lives have blurred to memory as we endure social distance
and isolation – what I’ve come to call “house arrest” – in our necessary
efforts defeat, or at least flatten the curve” of the COVID-19 pandemic.
So many of my regular activities – like going to work at the
office, exercising in the Soloway Jewish Community Centre gym, seeing friends,
attending concerts at the National Arts Centre, eating out at favourite
restaurants, etc. – have been on hold these last 63 days with
who-knows-how-long-still-to go.
As I mentioned in my April 24 column, it has been
particularly hard for me not being able to visit my mother in Montreal. Aside
from regular visits, we’ve already missed being with her on several special
days – including Passover seder nights and Mother’s Day – and we’ll miss being
with her next week to celebrate her 92nd birthday.
The sheer numbers of people we have lost to the pandemic
have been devastating and nothing personalizes it more than learning of the
death of someone you know. In my last column, I mentioned that three people I
knew in the U.S. had died of the virus. These were vital, brilliant people who
I knew through my lifelong involvement in the folk music scene. All were people
I first met in the 1970s. I’d like to tell you a little bit about them.
I met Hal Willner, the son of a Holocaust survivor,
backstage at the Philadelphia Folk Festival in 1977. We knew a lot of the same
people and quickly became friends over shared musical interests. Hal was just
beginning his career as a record producer and he would eventually earn a
well-deserved reputation for conceiving and producing a series of brilliant
multi-artist concept albums as “Stay Awake,” featuring artists like Tom Waits,
Bonnie Raitt and Ringo Starr performing sometimes strange but wonderful
versions of songs from old Walt Disney movies; “Rogues Gallery,” featuring
equally strange but wonderful versions of traditional sea chanteys by famous
and obscure rock stars and folk singers; and wonderful tribute albums to the
likes of Fellini film composer Nino Rota, jazz pianist Thelonious Monk, folk
music collector Harry Smith, and Leonard Cohen, among others.
Hal also worked at Saturday Night Live producing the background
music used on the show’s comedy sketches, a job he’s had since 1980. Hal died
on April 7 in New York City, the day after he turned 64.
As some may know, I host a folk music program once every
four weeks on CKCU, the community radio station based at Carleton University.
For many years, before I moved to Ottawa, I hosted a similar weekly show in
Montreal on CKUT, the community station at McGill. It was on visits to Gene
Shay’s folk radio program in Philadelphia in the 1970s that the seeds of my
wanting to do my own show were planted.
I spent quite a bit of time in Philadelphia between 1977 and
1982 and one of the first people I met there was Ivan Shaner – better known as Gene
Shay – an advertising executive who had begun hosting a weekly folk music show
on Philadelphia radio in the early-1960s. Also, in the early-‘60s, he
co-founded the Philadelphia Folk Festival, still one of the most important folk
festivals in the U.S., and was its main-stage MC.
I became reacquainted with Gene in the 1990s. By then I was
also hosting folk music radio programs and we would see each other often at
folk music conferences. In fact, Gene and I were on several panels together at
conferences and also kept in touch via email. Until he retired in 2015, Gene
was one of the deans of folk music radio in North America and a mentor to me
and to many other folk music radio hosts around the world.
“Everybody focuses on Gene Shay, but I would love it if
somebody would focus on Ivan Shaner, the man. Because he was the most
wonderful, supporting, loving father who was always, always there for me,” one
of his daughters told the Jewish Exponent, Philadelphia’s Jewish newspaper.
Gene was 85 when he died on April 17.
Finally, there was John Prine, a legendary singer-songwriter
who began performing in Chicago folk clubs while still working as a mailman in
the late-1960s.
I only met
John a few times over the years. I got to hang out with him a couple of times
and saw him do a few concerts. I also interviewed him a couple of times – once
for radio and once for the Montreal Gazette.
I was introduced to John backstage when
he came to perform in Montreal for the first time in 2001 and mentioned that
we’d met once before, about 25 years earlier. John looked me up and down and
said something like, “Oh yeah, Steve Goodman introduced us at
Mariposa.” He was absolutely correct. (I already knew Steve, another legendary
folk singer from Chicago, who was John’s closest friend. Steve died of leukemia
at age 36 in 1984.)
When my
wife Sylvie and I were on vacation in Florida in December, John was doing a
concert nearby at Ruth Ekerd Hall in Clearwater and we went to see him. It was
a fabulous show but I didn’t try and go backstage to say hello because I knew
that John was scheduled to be at the National Arts Centre here in Ottawa this
coming July, that it would be easier to connect then. But that was before this
horrible pandemic hit. John – who had survived two bouts with cancer – was 73
when he died on April 7.
Many thousands of people have been lost to COVID-19 – but knowing even just one of them personalizes the terrible toll this disease has taken. Condolences to all who have lost family or friends.
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