If I had a hammer . . .

Mary Travers is dead. Such a sweet, soaring, nasal nightingale. One of the voices of my youth.

My late husband (before he was my husband) did lights and sound for most of the shows (traveling as well as local) at Eastern Kentucky University. Peter, Paul, and Mary were in Richmond to perform at the new (then) Alumni Coliseum. . . probably before an election . . . they were quite political. The Little Theatre at Eastern provided volunteers for stagework. One of David's friends, Johnny, came huffing and puffing up to David asking to borrow his car keys to run an errand. David tossed him the keys and Johnny took off. Only later did David find out that Johnny had taken Mary Travers to the Colonel's to get something to eat. David was ticked at Johnny, of course, but he did manage to tell folks, as often as possible, that Mary Travers' rear end had been right there, RIGHT THERE, in the passenger seat of his little VW convertible.