From 8/14:
Years ago, when John Lennon died, the press gathered outside Paul McCartney's gate and cornered him into a regrettable statement regarding his friend's death — "it's a drag." — then proceeded to lambaste the songwriter for being glib. This week when ABC News anchor, Peter Jennings died, amid the hundreds of heartfelt tributes, the same press gathered near a heli-pad to ask our vacationing President for a statement concerning Peter Jennings. He paused and stumbled his way through a series of sound bites. Speaking, without the aid of writers nor teleprompter, Bush came off like the boy delivering a book report having never read the book. "Peter Jennings was a newsman." Pause. "He reported a lot of stories." Pause. Need I go on? Now I know death sucks. We all feel very inadequate when it comes to finding the right thing to say, but somehow I can't help feeling that Peter Jennings would have preferred glib.
The same week, we lost another great man. Not as well known, but certainly shared with Peter Jennings, an impact on his chosen profession. Milton Campbell, better known as "Little Milton" died in Memphis, after suffering a brain aneurysm. He was 71. "Little Milton was a blues guitar player." Pause "He sang a lot of songs." Pause. No, Mr. President, he was much more than that. In his fifty-six-year career, Miton was a link between the legendary Delta blues musicians — starting off in a club owned by B.B. King's mother-in-law and hanging out with the KFFA's King Biscuit Boys — to today's musicians who carry on the Delta blues tradition — the Grammy nominated album "Welcome to Little Milton." It was Ike Turner who brought Milton to the attention of Sam Phillips at Sun Records, where he recorded in a studio opposite another first-timer, Elvis Presley. Hit songs like "Grits Ain't Groceries", "Who's Cheating Who?" , and the Number One "We're Gonna Make It", were just a few of the songs recorded for Sun, Chess, Stax, and finally Malaco Records.
Was it all of this that made him a great man? In a way, yes. It was all this that made him who he was — and he was a great man. Is that what we should remember about Milton? While all the great songs will always provide a memory, no, remember Milton because he was a great man. All the years, all the people he's played with, all the success never changed him. He was always approachable. It was never lost on him, what he was given to do with his life. I heard him say once, when he was surrounded by what would best be described as a mob, that it was okay, because "This is what I do." Those who had the pleasure to see him live know what I mean. And those who had the privilege to know him know what I mean. "I feel so bad, feel like a ballgame on a rainy day." Chuck Willis wrote it, MIlton sang it, but McCartney said it best - it's a drag.