Hello,

I've just finished reading a SIXTH obituary on Dick. It brings both a smile and a tear to my face simultaneously.

A smile, because it made me think of all the times he made me laugh and marvel at what a unique and truly wonderful human being (Not just a legendary musician) he REALLY was. A tear, because I longed to see his star rise once again (especially here in the U.S.) BEFORE his demise.

I first met him in 2000, shortly after his release of "Blues & Beyond". I met him at his cramped (but ever so cozy) apartment, where we were introduced by his manager Pete Grant. He was already clearly showing the strain of his illness (complaints ranging from abdominal discomfort, chronic constipation, shortness of breathe when he blew his sax for longer than a half-hour at a time, etc.) yet I can honestly say that when I later saw him ONSTAGE at NO time did he fail to radiate SHEER JOY at doing what he loved best: creating music. Not simply PLAYING music, but rather CREATING it. Never before or since had I seen a musician who looked more relaxed...no, NATURAL onstage! He fondly called that spotlight "The safest place in the world", a feeling I've NEVER heard ANY musician express before (or since) I met Dick! Though by that time he was no longer able to do his trademark dual sax blow, he somehow made that single sax sound like TWO; I swear it!

On my last trip to England (in December 2002) I again met up with "Uncle Dick" (my "pet" name for him, which I called him on ANY occasion just to watch that GRIN of his). Sadly, I found out his pain had gotten WORSE since I'd last seen him. Dick being Dick, he was still pushing forward, with plans for a NEW bio (to be co-written with his manager Pete Grant) and always onward with overseas tour plans (especially in Germany, where his work with The Hamburg Blues Band kept his star ever bright in that corner of the world). The two things I remember the most about that last meeting? Simple. They were:1. his "overspending" while on tour in Germany and 2. an unforgettable meal we shared in a downtown pseudo "hip" eatery just outside of London.

What I remember about his overspending was just how ANGRY it made me....that is, until I saw how it made DICK feel! In a nutshell, Dick had agreed to wire his manager (whom I was on holiday with in Scotland at the time) a certain sum of money from the advances he was receiving on his tour dates. His manager and I had REALLY been counting on that money to see us through the latter half of our rather extensive (spelled E-X-P-E-N-S-I-V-E) holiday there. When (after TOO MANY inquiries on our part) the money was clearly NOT coming our way, Dick and his manager shared a very private "business call" (or as private as one can get while standing in the middle of a VERY busy shopping district in downtown Inverness, LOL). This was preceded by his manager instructing me thusly: "You'd better take 'a little walk' down the promenade....NOW! I have BUSINESS to talk to your Uncle Dick about that you AREN'T gonna want to hear!" As a result, I never was completely privy to what the two of them said, suffice to say it resulted in costing ME an extra $1,000.00 I'd had NO plans on spending that holiday!

But I ask you, HOW can you stay angry at someone who is TOO DAMN CHARMING, as Uncle Dick was! I'll never forget every subsequent call he made to us on the remainder of that tour: he'd ask for Pete (Grant) to put me online, asking me (with the funniest mix of schoolboy shame and debonair charm to his voice) "SHIRLEY, my girl! How ARE you, sweetheart?!" He'd then share brief highlights from his latest adventure on the road...being sure to WATCH THE CLOCK to keep the damn bills down...NOW. With each time we spoke, you could just hear the need for genuine reassurance he craved from me: the need to know I STILL loved my "Uncle Dick". Hell, you could FEEL it: coursing right through that phone wire! After I returned home, he e-mailed me the funniest, dearest e-card-in support of an upcoming court trial I was about to face-urging me on with "GO GET 'EM, SHIRLEY!" accompanied by a picture of Dick blowing one MEAN MUTHA-F***ER of a sax (as only Dick could)! Poor Uncle Dick. I always meant to tell him "F**K the money, Dick!" Sadly, I'll never have that opportunity now.

What made that meal memorable wasn't the wine, dine or time we spend there that evening. Rather, it was watching (in utter AWE) just HOW Dick could drape...no, make that SQUEEZE himself into an almost TWO SIZES too small black leather jacket, yet STILL somehow manage to stride...no, make that SAUNTER into that restaurant with me and his manager, looking simply TOO COOL for words! I know the old saying "The clothes make the man" but Uncle Dick took it one step BETTER that night: he proved that the RIGHT man makes the clothes!

Since returning to the U.S., I've been working HARD, trying to interest two different independent film production companies (Pickle Productions in the U.K. and Same Chick/Different Dog in New York) to do a documentary on Dick. Dick (probably more than any other musician I've met) was a born storyteller. His memory for detail was truly astonishing, and his enthusiasm was never curbed. ALWAYS eager for new/different challenges (both musical and personal). Now that he is no longer with us, though I still want to see this documentary come to life, I'm finding it hard to have the SAME level of excitement I once had. It still might enthrall & inform viewers of the musical giant he surely was. But for the life of me, WITHOUT Dick here now to tell his tale HIMSELF in HIS OWN words, I haven't a clue as to how to adequately describe the kind of MAN he was. Like trying to explain to a stranger how YOU feel to be in love: too wonderful, uniquely personal and irreplaceable to define with words. You FELT him. What can I say, the man was A LOT like his music.

Best Regards,

Shirley Pena

Girlhowdy233@yahoo.com

Picture from the inner sleeve of This That.

A fan's discography