It's strange when you hear about someone who was here, but is no longer here. Whom you knew, but didn't really know. Who has long since been reduced to a character in one of your stories.

You don't know how you're supposed to react.

You don't even cry.

You don't really know which part of him is gone from your life – maybe no part, since what you shared was already over a long, long time ago. It was a terrific story you told for ten years. When you came across a guitar freak. On a car trip when one of his songs was on the radio. Whenever you remembered.

But now you know three things for certain.

It was real.

He was real.

And the only way to remember that is by telling the story.

Who do you remember?