Mr. Max Brown passed away Friday, January 14, 2005 at the age of 82. For all of us who knew Max by his music, his humor or his kindness, he will be missed. Certainly Max was one of the finest musicians most of us had ever had the privilege of playing with or listening to. He didn’t, however, take himself or anything else, too seriously. Always quick with a smile, story, joke or kind word to us lesser musicians, he rapidly became one of us. He gave many of us a sense of hope that we would be able to live as he did at his age, continuing to share gifts with others; maintaining sharp wit; having fun.

Many times Max gave me the honor of calling me his friend. The last time he was able to stop by, driven here by his wife Ella, he quietly and privately told me that he loved us here. I understood the simple nature of that statement easily because we loved him too. We knew him only a short portion of his 82 years, but for what he brought here and shared with all, he was loved.

We’ll miss that grin. The Christmas Carols in July, or May. The jokes and wry comments between songs. We’ll miss yelling at him to slow down, because no one could keep up with his tempo. I’ll miss the “handshooks” he’d give me when he thought we played a song well. I’ll especially miss playing “The Old Rugged Cross” with him.

Max fought hard the last few months and things were tough. He always called and he always told me that just as soon as he was able, he’d be back so we could play some music. While we won’t play together again, none of us will forget what he did or how he sounded. Or who he became to us.