RIP Butch

 Posted by at 5:45 am  Life Offline  2 Responses »
Jul 232007
 

The funeral was a beautiful community moment. The crowd was a wonderful mix of people, all ages and every ethnicity, guys in ties and girls with tattoos and folks who’d probably slept the night before in what they were wearing. And when I say “crowd” I mean:

Mr. Butch’s Funeral Parade

What can I say? The man was loved.

The service was lovely. The ICC literally crammed people into every space they could, and there were still a few folks outside listening through the windows. Butch’s sister and brothers were there, and a few people shared some memories. There was a lot of laughter. I suspect Butch would have liked that.

Jul 212007
 

Yeah, this is bothering me more than I’d ever thought it would. Plus, everyone is still talking about him.

For those who care, the memorial got moved to tomorrow night at 7:00. A New Orleans-style funeral parade from the corner of Harvard and Comm. Ave. that will pause at the place where he died before going on to the ICC church for a service.

In the meanwhile, I’ve found a bunch of videos of him on YouTube. Here’s my playlist.

More of Mr. Butch

 Posted by at 10:48 am  Life Offline  2 Responses »
Jul 152007
 

Folks over at the Noise have been talking about Mr. Butch since his passing was just a rumor on Thursday morning. There are some lovely stories in this thread. I especially love the tales of Butch giving money to other people when he thought they needed more than he did. He was such a sweetheart.

Also, there are a couple of video clips of the man himself on The Mr. Butch Show.

There’s a memorial tomorrow night.

Jul 132007
 

It was the summer of 1986, between my junior and senior years of college. A weekday morning, around 6:30 am. I got off the subway, on my way to the breakfast shift at my summer job. Traffic was light, by Kenmore Square standards anyway, and the sidewalks were almost eerily deserted. Just a few poor slobs like me whose workday started too early for real humans. It was going to be hot. It was already sticky. And I didn’t want to be there. I trudged past the Rathskeller with my head down, so I didn’t have to see the too-bright sky.

“Good morning!”

I cast about for the source of the voice, and stopped dead in my tracks when I located it. A lanky black man with long dreads was standing outside the club, wearing most of what had once been a pretty nice suit. And, yeah, he was talking to me.

“Morning,” I mumbled back, trying to be polite, just wanting to get on with my day. Then he smiled at me as broadly as any carefree ten-year-old and I couldn’t help smiling back.

That was the day I met Mr. Butch. Musician. Poet. Folk icon. I made that gods-awful early trek through Kenmore for the rest of that summer, and if he was there (as he often was), he always had a smile for me. It never failed to make my morning.

More than 20 years later, I still consider it one of the highlights of my college days. I imagine there are hundreds, maybe thousands of people out there with similar memories. Because Mr. Butch was a fixture in Kenmore Square for years before all the new construction in the 90s changed the character of the neighborhood. Before the BU police harassed him and the rest of the area’s homeless population into exile. He made his home in Allston after that.

Yesterday, Boston lost a little part of its soul. Yesterday, Boston lost Mr. Butch. He leaves behind a lot of friends.