Dear Bud
It has been again one of those typical mundane weeks except for a little excitement which I added to the job based on boredom and pushing some of the rules a bit but not enough to get myself in trouble but to uncover the incompetent who seek recognition at any cost. If we get enough time I will explain it later for if, as you know, I get off onto a tangent I will never remember where I was heading with my original intent of this conversation but know that you can always set me straight should be taken into consideration LOL.

Do you remember the time when we were going to start a business together, the type has been long forgotten by this guy, and you Walter, and I made arrangements to take different trains into Boston, hook up, and head to the BPL business location on Pi Ally next to the Old City Hall on School Street which I believe they currently call City Hall Avenue. I don’t think that I ever told you the story of joining the Sacred Heart School choir with the primary purpose of seeing more than just Lowell in an attempt to broaden the horizons of an inquisitive young mind. It was a cold December in 1958 and Father Randall had made arrangements for us to sing Christmas Carols at the annual lighting of the Boston Christmas Tree, something the current political arena would not permit for fear of insulting those who are not Christian. You know how I feel about that and a tangent I will not head.

Pi Ally was one of those hide away places which no one can be exactly sure how it got its name but the two primary suspicions are that a newspaper printed there, Boston Herald, would dump their used type set pi out the back door or that you could get a piece of pie and a coffee for five cents. I prefer the later.

We met at the old North Station, now long since demolished, with you coming in on the commuter rail from Beverly with Walter and I from Haverhill. Any way we headed to the BPL Business branch. I have been trying to think of what the proposed business was and hoping that you could help me and sure enough you have and it had to do with the internet, you know that system that Al Gore invented LOL. You had an AT&T computer at home and always ahead of the learning curve on this new frontier. Damn if we had followed up who knows where we could have ended up. Your spirit of inquisitiveness has never changed. Your mind never aged.

Well as you remember our meeting was during a period of recuperation for you as it was only a few months earlier that you had a serious heart episode which ended up with you being hospitalized. I remember the hospital room but the exact facility escapes me and my primary choice is Beverly Hospital. Bonnie was sitting with you and excused herself, after a hug, when I showed up, and it did not take long for me to discover why. You had a porta potty chair next to the bed and just used it and the absence of an air freshener nearly killed me, never mentioned it but it was true friendship that kept me sitting there. I remember you saying “what are you doing here’ and I in my own bust your chops way said that Bonnie was one of a kind and if you were going to croak I was going to be first in line to make sure no one else got the opportunity to court her but of course I would not move in too quickly. That’s when I discovered that you were listening to me. She has truly been your gift from the Lord.

No getting back to the story. We had pretty much gotten all of the info we needed and were heading back to the North Station can traversing City Hall Plaza when you tripped and banged you head on one of the steps, there was no obvious serious injury other than a small bump and with you saying that you were ok we decided to have a beer at a small brewery near the station to make sure you were ok before you headed back to Beverly. Well as fate would have it the lump got much bigger so I asked for a bag with some ice and towel to get the swelling down. It took the swelling a bit longer to go down and what did Walter and I do in the meantime but have a few beers. You said you were ok and not without some guilt we put you on the train to head home but not without a note with your name and station stop on a post it on your pocket which you, I am sure removed as soon as you got on the train, for Bonnie never mentioned the note. I must admit that I pushed my sense of humor a bit too far that day and as you know apologized on more than one occasion.

Well that is it for now, miss you, and look forward to catching up with you one of these days.

DanO

Dear Bud,

It has been the typical Florida July but the heat really got to me and I had to call out on Tuesday and book out early on Thursday. Was hoping to speak with you this week but it did not just come about. I was looking at your Facebook page and it reminded me of a few small stories of when you had family come for a visit and you brought them to Boston for one of the infamous Doyle tours on my lunch hour when I worked for the Sectary of The Commonwealth in the Corporations Division.

Your Brother Art was in town and due to our conflicting schedules’ I was unable to visit with him at your house and in your own special was wanted him to meet your gumba, ya I had to look up the word to get the correct spelling. We made arrangements and the two of you made the train trip in. I always thought that it was my expert tour narration talents which inspired you to bring your family in never realizing that they probably knew more about Boston than I and it was your friendship with me which you wanted to share.

When Art visited we were able to view “The Charles” from the conference room at One Ashburton Place, for as luck would have it there was no meeting going on. We roamed Beacon Hill for an hour and when my time expired it was back to my desk and you guys back to Beverly. I remember asking you why Art had all of the height and I think that I teased you about being aged and that you had shrunk over the years. If you remember I stopped that teasing after I got into my 60s. There was one outstanding trait other than a welcoming personality and it was that capricious look which you both shared, the Burke Glow which I have called it for many years.

The other visitor was a sister, Carole, whom you had told me about who lived in California who had been a school teacher her entire life and was doing so in Monterey. You had mentioned that she was the totally independent one of the family and a free spirit as I interpreted from your stories. She reminded me somewhat of my daughter whose intelligence level exceeded most and definitely not inherited from me but her mother. Knowing before actually meeting her brings me onto a tangent and am hoping that I do not go too far with this one that I forget where I was originally heading.

I put this one under the Doyle’s Small World Category. I was visiting my cousin Tom out in Moraga, a town east of San Francisco and a unique community which I loved to visit, he was off for that morning with a friend who became his wife. He had given me the keys to one of his seven cars, ya remember he was the rich cousin, and rather than driving to Orinda for a scone and strong coffee I decided to visit another bakery not too far away in a strip shopping center. The unique thing about this place is how each weekend people would line up cars they had for sale along the front of the parking lot which boarded the road heading to Lafayette. Tom had introduced me to this place with a few outside tables where one could read the daily and enjoy the beautiful early morning weather. When I arrived, there was a lady reading the paper and after I got my super scone and coffee I headed to one of the tables and she was still there. In my relentless pursuit for conversation she finally relented and spoke with more than the yes, no she was sharing. She seemed very bitter and I discovered that she had had it with men who used and I totally agreed with her and did not blame her for her feelings after a story she had shared. Putting that aside I discovered that she had been a teacher abroad, Iran to be exact, and was told that the regime had used her photo in propaganda material there considering her as an infidel from the states. This prior to the government taking many into custody during the Carter administration as you well remember for your sister was a teacher there before all hell broke loose. I mentioned your sister’s name and she knew her, sometimes a good memory comes in handy when meeting people. Later that day when Tom and Jeannie were back they asked me what I had done and I told them the story and mentioned that the lady’s last name was Rideout. Jeannie looked at me, with surprise, and told me that I had had coffee with her lawyer who represented her with a divorce. Damn two for one that day.

Well anyway back to her visit which we started at the usual place, the empty conference room. You had told me that she could be somewhat aloof but I figured that my charming personality could conquer all, joke. I did my utmost best to get a reaction to a few little-known facts which I had learned about some of the residences but only got an occasional “really” and at that point I will not forget the look on your face when I asked her if I should stop for she appeared to be bored and I did not want to ruin her day. Ya a risky comment but truthful and feel that she appreciated it an allowed me to continue with an improved level of interest from her.

Till the next time brother keep those banjo strings moving along with your friend Dave Murphy and his washtub base.

Love you my Buddy.

Dear Bud

As I sit here on this typical hot Florida summer day a memory comes to this old mind of a trip which you, Bonnie, and I took to a Bluegrass festival in New York state.  Now you must forgive me if I am not exact on the dates but as always you will take a shot at how old I am getting and catching up with you.

Up to the point of our adventure you, in your own capricious way, had been making valiant attempts to introduce me to the string instrument world which had started some years earlier with the Mandolin on a few afternoons when you were living in Beverly.  Your patience with me was unfailing but I was a hopeless case but as always you never gave up on me.

It is now over twenty years ago that you asked if I would like to join you all for a weekend at the now called Grey Fox festival. I had no idea what to expect but knew that being with Bonnie and yourself was something I always looked forward to for you guys adopted me into your family with open arms. I was a bit bothered at the fact that I would have to call in sick at work to get some time for the remnants of a Roman Catholic conscience brought on a sense of guilt but knowing that I was going to be in the good hands of a devout Methodist quelled my concerns.

I was living in Lowell which I knew was out of the way but you said that I would be a passenger and would pick me up on what was a beautiful blue skied summer day without a cloud to be seen.  I was a horrendous house keeper and nearly died when Bonnie asked to use the bath room. A feeling of horror ran through my body as I said yes but as always when she came to the car she did not make even the slightest comment other this saying “let’s do this”.  We were, for economic reasons, going to share a room in a Pine Plains B&B.  The beginnings were somewhat mundane as we too 495 to the Mass Pike and headed to a town made famous by Norman Rockwell, Stockbridge.  A place I had never been nor probably never would have but for you both. As we drove through Great Barrington we past a large estate surrounded by a tall granite walls with the name Searles etched into a large stone block near the entrance gate. It mimicked an estate by the same name in Methuen, MA and sure enough built by the same person. Typical bit of a tangent my friend but then again this does not surprise you for I can see your tolerant smile as I relay this story.

It was not long after that me crossed into the fine state of New York passing by the road track in Lime Rock whose most notable driver personality was Paul Newman. I made a mental note that it would be a trip for another time but at this stage in my life it is only a fleeting thought of the time.

I had no idea what our temporary home away from home would be like and was totally taken by surprise as we drove up the driveway toward a beautiful wooded mansion with it guest portico to protect guests from foul weather.  As we were greeted and given a brief tour of the first floor my eyes were wide with amazement for it was similar to a film in which Christopher Reeves stepped into the past. Everything represented a time long gone, Bonnie had chosen a time capsule, a unique experience in the present hustle and bustle time. Then again why am I rambling on for you also saw the burled walnut furniture, the horsehair stuffed furniture, and the side room with its built-in glass doored legal library. Remember the owner telling us that the original owner was a lawyer for the Rail Road, must have been the biggest house in town. Then the story of how the hose was haunted, damn that’s all we needed, scary sounds in the night.
The hostess must have liked us for she set me up in a small room which overlooked the portico at no extra charge, I think that it was originally a nursery for it adjoined your room through a small passage way. As Bonnie settled in you and I, as usual, did a little exploring. There was the huge tree which was a natural umbrella when we found a small breach in the foliage and upon entering found ourselves in a quiet space and the old cemetery.

We piled into the car to head for the reason for this sojourn, off to Grey Fox.  I had no idea as to why you were bringing the banjo but then again, I was dealing with my neophyte mind.  The grounds were pretty much camouflaged with its non-descript entrance and then there was a burst of people and energy in front of us. This thing was huge and all you did was smile at my amazement and knew that your grin was of satisfaction and a mentor teaching a rookie. Do you mind if I reach out and give you a hug my friend? There were tons of people sampling and groups getting together playing music everywhere. Know I know why you brought your stringed instrument for you were going to start jamming then there was the whooshing sound when the car door opened and you sped toward the nearest group with your always present positive attitude and desire to join in.

Do you remember when Bonnie and yourself wanted to roam and I volunteered to host the banjo and sat on a tarp next to the workshop area?  Man, that case was a chick magnet and I thought to myself, back to the Mandolin lessons, for this could lead to something big. LOL.  When you guys returned I was sitting with a guy whom I shared some family stories and introduced you guys to him as Jerry Douglas. At that point, he said that he had a few things to do and made his apologies before leaving. You shook your head for my naiveté was overwhelming I was conversing with the greatest Dobro player in the world and talked nothing about music.

I could go on and on with this one story alone from the use of script to make purchases to the incredible assortment of artists.
My brother, my mentor I love you.