In two weeks we’ll be having an event in honor of Peter, called “Peter Manchester: Remembering the Thinker and the Teacher,” here at Stony Brook University. I’ve driven past your place any number of times, never stopped. PBM had somehow discovered it, and liberated it for use in recording the rest of us. The 15-ips Sony used a cam that *he* had cut the condensor mike belonged to the University, for no plausible reason. A gentle, gracious, curious man, who understood technology in a way that the rest of us were simply blind to. □ Peter B was a wonder in his own time, and remains one unto this day. He told me that he still had some live tapes of The Missionmen, and even reminded me of the role my 12-string played in “Embryonic Journey.” We’d been in contact over the years bcz I’d sent him a couple of students–whose excellence he’d always marvelled at!!, to which I’d responded that I’d always been a better philosophy prof than a musician, a notion which I’m sure you can heartily second. Jorma, five years ago I called Peter and we set up a meet at his place (my wife is from Long Island), but it snowed the next morning and we couldn’t move. Peter was one of us… we were friends when our earth was new. I guess it’s just another example of life on the backside of the mountain. The answer will not change… this book is closed. What more could I have done? At this point it really doesn’t matter. The sadness of course is all for those of us left behind. Yeah… death comes in its own time… unbidden and patient. What makes you grow old is replacing hope with regret God moved in that moment and the angels all criedĪnd they gave you a memory that you have till you dieĪnd the lessons you learn and you don’t forget The look in his eyes and the way the light played There are those moments and they just never fade Life is a funny old dog and replacing hope with regret is a poor choice… We broke bread, shared old times… caught up on the not so old times and promised each other we would get together again. His health was failing, and his age was circling him like a morning mist. He came to visit me in Ohio five or six years ago and stayed at the Fur Peace Ranch. He wound up teaching philosophy at SUNY Stonybrook… and I… well I just continued to follow my path. Time went on as time does and we lost track of each other. He and his wife at the time Susan and I and my ex Margareta (may she rest in peace) were pals in those halcyon years. Many of the tapes that are floating around today from that period were made by him.Īfter college, he was in grad school and I was in Jefferson Airplane… another kind of grad school. He had a machine that was hot rodded to record at 15 ips and he also had some fancy condenser mike. Peter was my room mate and friend, back when I was in Santa Clara… trying to keep my grades up while playing out as much as possible, Peter was a taper before the tapers knew what taping was. Charlie was in Barcelona and he wrote to tell me that my old University Of Santa Clara room mate, Peter Byrne Manchester had just passed away yesterday morning. Yesterday just as Jack and I were getting ready to go onstage at the Crossroads here in Honolulu, I got an email from one of my old buddies… Charlie.
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