In a land called Hanna-lee

Mary Travers is dead. I'm listening to old recordings of Peter, Paul and Mary and it just makes me well up inside. We had this old PBS special of their taped on a Beta tape - you remember Beta, don't you? Before VHS was everywhere? - and I played that tape over and over again, learning every word to Puff the Magic Dragon and In Right Field, and I swear that I practiced my whistling (much to the consternation of my parents) along with Peter and Paul. Summers in college, driving somewhere listening to Lemon Tree. When John Denver died, and everyone was playing "Leaving on a Jet Plane," it just twisted up my insides and made me hurt. Those beautifully simple voices that reach out to us and put their hands on our hearts. As singers, we should aspire to such honesty and artistry.

Keep singing, Mary. The seraphim will take a break for you.