David “Honeyboy” Edwards Memorial Service 9/1/11

When I arrived at the Funeral Home on 75th Street at about 5 p.m., I immediately ran in to Michael Frank who introduced me to Honeyboy’s daughter, Betty, and his stepdaughter, T Baby.

Honeyboy lay in a casket at the front of a small chapel, with a slide show of his life above him, set to his music. I felt uncomfortable approaching the casket at first, so I sat in the pews and observed from a distance. When I finally convinced myself to see him and say goodbye to one of my biggest blues influences, Honeyboy took me aback one last time.

He had on the COOLEST suit, shirt and tie to go with the black fedora on his head! “Wow, Honeyboy,” I said, “NICE suit!”

I touched his shoulder, thanked him and turned and walked away, out of the chapel into the front foyer, where I met a woman who had flown in from Vancouver BC. We talked awhile, when her eyes suddenly got big, looking over my shoulder at the front door.

“Oh my God…it’s Buddy Guy!” she said. I turned around as Buddy walked in. As I shook his hand he said to me “Somebody told me the wrong time…they said it started at 7 but it started at 2.” “it’s ok,” I said. “you’re not late!” Buddy entered the sanctuary, paid his respects and left.

While in that front foyer I noticed there was a different slide show going on there and I stood and watched it when suddenly up came that great photo that Lynn Orman took of me talking to the audience and Honeyboy smiling broadly at me.

Several people suddenly wheeled around and said “is that you?” and I said, yes. Now I was posing for pictures with different people in front of a giant Honeyboy poster. I went back inside the chapel and Michael took to the lectern next to Honeyboy and made a heartfelt speech about his friend of nearly 40 years.

Many family members, friends and fellow musicians came to the lectern over the next hour or two. And then I did.

I thanked the family and spoke about how I connected with Honeyboy. Then I read something I had transcribed from the filmed Q&A he did with the audience at a house party in Los Angeles last September, about timing that begins: “Sometimes when you get the blues and settle down….a musician can overspeed yourself…”

There were big smiles everywhere -- I think because they were HIS words, and everyone was picturing him speaking. I confessed that I had given up being a serious blues musician for 20 years, and as I slowly began coming back I was racked with doubt about starting over in my fifties…until I met Honeyboy, who was in his nineties and still doing it!
I ended by saying that Honeyboy will remain my inspiration for the rest of my life. I sat down, to some nods and words of appreciation. When the service was over, many more people came up to me and thanked me for my words.

When I arrived later that night at Lee’s Unleaded Blues on 74th and South Chicago the place was already PACKED with people looking to celebrate Honeyboy’s legacy.

Johnny Drummer was leading a band of superb Chicago blues musicians and he had a list a mile long of people to call up to sit in. I didn’t bother to add my name. I had a little business to attend to there with Kendra and Yvonne about my upcoming CD release party there with Jeff Stone on October 29th. And before long, I was having further conversations with people who had been at the service. T Baby even hugged and kissed me and thanked me! After a while I noticed that Johnny was scouring the crowd for more players, so I approached the bandstand and said I’d like to play a number.

Since I didn’t bring a guitar I asked the woman who had just finished singing if I could borrow hers. Not only did she agree, she told me that it was once one of Honeyboy’s! After a little technical difficulty, I told the band the key and stomped into Honeyboy’s “Ride With Me Tonight,” which I’m pretty sure was the first song anyone had played that was actually associated with Honeyboy.

The band was blues aces! It felt and sounded good. When we finished I thanked the crowd and started to take the guitar off when a guy approached the stage and said “wait a minute man! You got to do one more! Play the blues! And then he jumped up on the stage and replaced Johnny on the drums.

I said “follow me” and launched into Long Gone Miles “Feel All Right,” and had great fun with that one too. I watched a few more performers and the evening ended.

The next day was the funeral service. After the pastor finished his sermon, they asked the attendees to file past Honeyboy’s casket one final time. That was hard. I hate goodbyes, especially these kind. The whole place was sobbing. Honeyboy had touched so many people from all walks of life because he was so genuine. He had no pretense. Even though he was a legendary figure, an original Delta bluesman with a photographic memory…a man who could make history come alive to anyone who’d listen…he would say “I’m just a blues player, that’s all I’m is!”

If he liked you, he made you feel like you’d been his friend forever. I told Michael as I left “Honeyboy will always be proud of you” and he said “he was proud of you too, you know.”

I feel so grateful that there was this man known as “Honeyboy” who accomplished so much in his 96 years and took the time to welcome me into his life for all those fleeting moments that I will treasure until the end of my days.

Jeff Dale