We did go to Jerusalem Ridge last year and to Hartford, but we skipped the cemetery. This year, we stopped at the cemetery and made the drive up to Jerusalem Ridge. A childhood friend of Monroe’s was there as a volunteer to take us through the house. It gave us a chance to hear more colorful stories about Rosine.
Such is the hospitality of Rosine. We met more people who were as friendly and helpful as Ramey.
The General Store has a regular Friday Night fish dinner special – fried catfish, French fries, cole slaw, and two hush puppies. People advised us to get into the barn by 5:30 in order to get good seats. So, this year we headed to the General Store for dinner at 4:45. Half the tables were filled with folks eating and visiting. There was one fellow playing a guitar and singing at a back table.
We finished dinner and got to the barn in plenty of time to get seats in the second row. By 6:00, the seats were filled and musicians gathered on the stage. We kept our eye open for Ramey, but didn’t see him. It wasn’t until later in the program that we learned he had died suddenly on the previous weekend. This Friday’s program was the first one that Ramey wasn’t there to organize.
There were apologies all night long about the disorganization and uncertainty of who was going to play. We didn’t think there was much of a problem. We did get a clue when the first group played for nearly two hours. No group played that long last year. They apparently played long enough to give other musicians time to practice together outside. When the second group arrived, they explained that not everyone knew each other, but they were happy to play for the audience and would do their best. Their performance was a tribute to their talent. It was clearly a night of outstanding improvisation.
Early in the program, the woman who took the role as organizer, mentioned how much everyone would miss Ramey. It was then that we understood the cloud we had felt all evening. I had mentioned Ramey to several people earlier, but no one mentioned his recent unexpected death.