Koko Taylor

She died a little while ago. I can't claim to have been a lifelong or even a particularly ardent fan, and I sure never knew her, but when I ran across the news I was sad. Here's why.

A decade or more ago, I can't recall exactly when, a group of us were working a trade show in Chicago. The work was tense and tiring, and for many reasons, both personal and professional, I was particularly stressed. I was also exhausted and frequently feeling more than a little sorry for myself.

One night after our work at the trade show was over, we went to the blues club Taylor was then running, Koko Taylor's Chicago Blue. (The club, like her, is now gone.) [CORRECTION IN PLACE: Elizabeth pointed out to me that I had misremembered and that we saw Koko at Buddy Guy's Legends Blues Club. I believe she is right, and I was wrong. Sorry.] We had the privilege of seeing her perform there, in her own place. I'd guess she was in her late sixties at the time, and a lot of her years had not been easy; she was orphaned young and grew up poor and hardworking. When she strutted up to perform, however, energy radiated from her. When she started singing, I was blown away by the power and the soul in her voice. She had it, and you knew you damn well better pay attention to her.

Her songs transported me to a better place that evening. They also reminded me that I'd seen a lot worse than being a well-paid executive at a fancy computer trade show, and that many others, including her, had seen a great deal worse than I had, so I should be grateful for what I had. For both the escape and the reminder, I was thankful, though other than by applauding I don't think I ever gave any sign of that gratitude. Still, I've always remembered her and that night and that show.

Clouds are gathering here for a storm that's been in our forecast for a while. Despite that sensible explanation, tonight when the wind blows, I'm going to pretend it's Koko Taylor's ghost singing so strongly that even the clouds can't resist her power, and I'm going to remember how very lucky I am.

Thanks, Koko Taylor.