I was stunned and deeply saddened,  after doing much facebook searching,  following one dead end lead to another, to learn that reason why Chris' Facebook page was suddenly gone was because he was also gone, without warning or notice!  Funny, but l wish he.had said goodbye, and wish I had had a chance to say farewell and thank you.

I thoroughly enjoyed Chris'  research skills and what they yielded and miss his daily contributions very much.  I especially appreciated the value he offered in terms of politics and *The Urantia Book*.  And, a few of my facebook friends were also grateful for having met him and benefited from conversations. 

I knew Chris, briefly, back in the *Midnight Traveler* days.  My friend lived in the house he shared on Cedar Street in Wellesley.  That was one great band, back in the day, 1980+. 

I ran into Chris in some facebook thread a couple of years ago, had to remind him who I was, and we picked up from there.  

I'm so sad that his facebook page is gone because there is no longer a way to review his posts, nor see his photos, nor remember him on his Birthday (which I've always remembered is Sept. 17th), or his day of departure.  Wherever he is, whatever he's up to today, I hope he's well, and want to thank him for his friendship. 

Dear Liz, 

don and I are so sorry for your sudden loss of chris. He was a truly independent thinker and a really exceptional musician. we hope that knowing he is at peace helps at this time.

Hugs, Linda & Don

Some memories of time spent with Chris…

A friend of Liz’s since college, I had the privilege of being a bridesmaid at Chris and Liz’s wedding. After they moved to Maine, I visited them up there a lot, sometimes with my eventual husband Peter in tow.

I remember we visited the camp they built off the grid shortly after it was finished. Chris was so proud, showing us around. Peter noticed a pretty sweet truck rack laying on the ground. Chris explained how it had been essential in hauling all the building materials into the site but now that the work was completed, he didn’t need it anymore. So he and Peter struck a deal, Chris helped Peter secure the rack on Peter's truck, and that rack has been in our lives ever since; I’m looking at it out the window now. I learned later that it had been made in Falmouth, Massachusetts, on Cape Cod, where we had a family home for years. We see similar racks on almost all of the trucks down there, so I’m not sure exactly how that one made its way up to the camp Maine, but it’s been back home to Falmouth many, many time. We never see that type of truck rack out here in central New York. So thanks, Chris, for the sweet truck rack.

One time we brought our kayaks (on the truck rack) up to Maine, and Chris and Liz took turns paddling around the island with us. There were a bunch of musician friends also staying there, and I remember Peter and I manned the barbeque while everyone else was jamming; we had to fight to get everyone’s attention away from the music in order to eat. Seemed that music was more than enough food for their souls.

When Peter and I got married, Chris and Liz played the music in the chapel for our wedding. We were thrilled to have such good friends and talented musicians personalize our special day that way. And at the rehearsal dinner the night before, they spontaneously jammed with our musician—and wedding photographer—friend Tim who also played (and brought) a fiddle. Seems those musician types don’t go anywhere without their instruments. What a treat that was.

And when we moved out to central New York, Chris and Liz were the first friends to visit us here; they were on a road trip out to Arizona to visit Erica. We had barely gotten furniture into the house and they slept on a futon couch in the living room, and then we visited Peter’s dad’s farm nearby, and Chris admired all the work Peter had been doing out there. Before they went on their way, Peter gave Chris some kind of weird mandolin-guitar hybrid thingy he’d come across at an auction; not being a musician he had no idea what to do with it. But Chris knew exactly what it was, and was thrilled to have it.

And now, up in heaven, I’m sure Chris is ecstatic to be jamming with all the musical legends he’s admired over the years. Happy, upbeat, joyful, enthusiastic, same as he ever was. Keep making your music, music man. We’ll be looking forward to hearing it when our time comes.