The Sacred and the Profane in the Pacific Breezes

When I Played Guitar at Gravesites in the Pacific Northwest

Author’s note: This Tuesday finds me on the road. I hope you enjoy this previously published essay.

My career as a musician is unremarkable but not without highlights. My favorite performances were perhaps during my brief sojourn in the Pacific Northwest, circa 1989.

I occasionally played guitar with some dudes. A trumpet player asked me to accompany him as he played “Angel Band,” an old gospel tune, at his grandfather’s gravesite during his internment.

When I arrived the gravesite was crowded with family and WWII servicemen in uniform. My friend was late (he couldn’t find the gravesite - a common problem I discovered).

It was hot, and the minister told me to start. I sang a verse alone, and my newly arrived friend sidled up to me and joined me in the chorus as if we planned it that way. I offer a favorite version by The Wood Brothers.