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A few days before he passed, I texted my wonderful friend Neil King Jr. the following:

Last Thursday morning I think, I was startled awake by an image of you walking in a field on a bright sunny day. You had your cap on and a smile on your face, completely at one with the world. Later that morning much to my surprise, I found myself walking through this field, kind of the same thing but in my dream the field was full of yellow straw, something probably inspired by  your paperback book cover. Still, I did what you would have done. I stood there for a long time and let the rapture sweep over me.

For days I had been experiencing tugs on my collar, fleeting glimpses of something in my peripheral vision, a feeling of dread, and now this image. It was as if Neil was the cloud in the upper left.

He texted me back:

Jeff that is so powerful and touches me deeply. I hope to walk that field with you.

In April of 2023, one year after his walk from D.C. to New York, we did a manic two-day driving trip along the same roads in Pennsylvania that Neil meandered along. He was worried that his publisher would screw up the cover of his book and wanted to offer suggestions of his own. While I thought we came up with a better cover than the one the publisher went with, the hundreds of miles he put on his car did result in several photos that he used in the promotion of the book, so it wasn’t a complete bust. Plus two days sharing ideas, ambitions, hopes and dreams along with listening to Neil's running commentary on the mysteries of life was priceless.

In December of that year, we did a gig together at the Avalon Theater in Easton. Per usual, he packed the house. While setting up, I noticed he was struggling to get his hands to work properly, and then just before we began, he confided that something was fundamentally wrong and that he needed to get it checked out ASAP. Neil described his remission in American Ramble as, “I like to say that I am in a clearing. Not in the clear, but just in a wide clearing with the forest too far away to see. I may be out of the woods, but I never know for how long.” Two days later, he went into emergency surgery to have a tumor removed from his brain. He must have realized as we walked on stage that evening that his years in the clear had come to an end, yet he carried on that evening with the clarity, equanimity, and grace that characterized his remarkable life, teaching us the importance of always living in the present.

Over the past few days, obituaries have appeared in the media around the country, including fitting tributes in the New York Times and the Washington Post both of which deserve a read.

And whether or not you have read American Ramble, please watch this video of that evening at the Avalon.

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