To the editor:
We are so fortunate to live in a community of artists and musicians of every kind. Beauty surrounds us everywhere, and occasionally, a superior talent graces our days.
Our beloved Brown County bard, John Franz, has passed, leaving behind a sort of “aching joy” in my heart.
My first encounter with John was when I was working in a second-story shop in town, and he appeared magically in the courtyard below. A few lovely chords from an acoustic guitar drifted up into the windows that day, mixing with the scents of coffee and candles.
Then, his clear, sure voice rose, dancing in behind. Deep, perfect notes linked together into happy tunes — familiar songs that immediately commanded attention.
I ran to the window to find the source, and there stood a kind of Santa, lightly swaying in song. He had a fluffy beard and twinkling eyes that pinched into a squint as he sang.
The music he played was so completely captivating, all who passed by would pause to listen. No one was immune!
As I got to know him, I came to realize that music was everything to him. John showed me what it meant to live a simple, focused life. The freedom of being a street musician was something to be envied. He stood in all kinds of weather, never asking for anything and always gifting us with his everything.
He shared his joy, and how lucky we were to receive it.
Laura Bulla, Crooked Creek Road
P.S. His voice lives on in the album “The Liar’s Bench” — worth a listen.
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