Two months ago, Brent Porter passed away. I had met Brent just once, briefly. He had become a fan of my music through the stage play, "Amber Waves." He was a journeyman millwright who had married an actress, and they lived on Lake Lemon in south-central Indiana. He was 50 years old when he died. His wife, Marcia, had contacted me in the early Spring, asking if I would play at his memorial. Well, Brent hung on for several more months until September... At the service, Marcia told a story of a recent trip they'd taken-- a cruise she took him on while he was in remission. On the ship of course there was "entertainment", which included, one night, a "talent show". Brent, to the surprise of his wife signed up, and when it came his turn, he took a moment to thank "the farmers" and launched into "Amber Waves." He had written down the words, and Marcia said, knew most of the tune. She had never known him to get up in front of a group before and do anything like that. I thought of that song being sung by that man in the middle of the ocean, and I was grateful that I had been able in some small way to touch his life. "...I will give you all that I know-- there are some things in our blood and in our bones... And we will walk, where there are no streets-- where the sky and the valley meet-- these Amber Waves... oh, oh these Amber Waves."