I wish to thank Peter McElhinney for his wonderful tribute to John Bradshaw (“Remembrance,” News & Features, Dec. 31). Although the news of his death brings 2009 in on a sad note, it also brings a smile for the happiness John brought to me in my youth.
In the late 1960s, the Crossroads Coffeehouse served up some of the best music I have heard of any kind in any venue. John, my older brother Duck Baker, and a number of other young talents usually packed the small St. James's Church catacombs on weekend nights. I was a young squirt who would often sneak out of the house to hear them jam. Instead of telling me to go home, they welcomed me and took a genuine interest in my adolescent foibles. I guess they figured it was better to have me there listening than doing other worse things. I drove my brother nuts at times, but John was always, always, kind and funny.
Richmond has lost an unusually fine musician and showman. It has lost a better man. Thanks, John, for befriending a kid who never forgot you.