Richard

Ted Schinbein, 2005

Written by Ted Schinbein.

"I grew up in Mitchell ,12 miles from Stratford, playing in a local band, The Swingin' Impalas, at the same time as Kenny Kalmusky, Richard, John Till, and Jimmy Winkler with various other local guys played in the Rocking Revols. There were just a few small local bands back in the late 50's early 60's, so we all knew each other and tried to stay in touch over the years. Beak was at my place with Kenny, the afternoon of the Stratford reunion in '85 and I felt in the presence of two very rare and special people, unaffected that afternoon by fame or any other bullshit! We just laughed a lot and talked about old memories, and all the old friends in common, long lost track of... the concerts were great too. Not a long time later, I was sitting, quietly weeping, after hearing on the news of Richards passing... And these words, became a song, from my heart, through my guitar to the paper, just as they flowed..."
--Ted

He was a friend of mine, although I hardly knew him,
We grew up playin' rock and roll, in awe I'd listen to him,
His fingers flew across the keys, on chords I'd never find,
Like Sticks and Stones will break my bones,
And Georgia On My Mind.

With Ray Charles as a guiding light, he left to tour the land,
With Levon, Robbie, Rick and Garth, his dream became the band.
From "Big Pink," to the "Last Waltz," I loved his blues the best,
Now I just heard on the radio, they've laid him down to rest.

Well I don't know what made him go, nor care to look for blame,
I always thought he had it all, his music, friends and fame,
The man is gone, but not, the music memories left behind,
Although I hardly knew him, he was a friend of mine,
Although I hardly knew him, he was a friend of mine.