Jenny Q

Back in my college days, during the summer of 1982, I worked at Crater Lake National Park, in the lodge. While I worked there, I met a young woman named Jenny Quickel, from New Jersey, who was also working there for the summer. We became friends while we were there and began writing letters back and forth after we had each returned to our homes for the school year. (That was back in the days before email and the internet). The letters continued on for a year or so and then we eventually lost touch. About 15 years later, I was going through some old boxes in my basement and I came upon some of those letters. Memories came flooding back, and I wrote a song about it to perform with my band, Mahatma Candy. Jenny was a guitar player, too, so just in case she ever sees this, note that it is played in "open D" tuning.

We were born under a moonlit sky
Fully half a mile above God's Creation;
You were with that boy from Illinois
And I was sleeping from station to station;
But we smiled and we caught each other's eye
Both of us denied the conflagration;
At the summer's end we went back to our far-flung homes
Hoping our good-byes were of short duration;

Oh, but I could still see your soft, dark bangs
Hanging just above your eyes,
And that flash of white every time you smiled
In the light of that Crater Lake sunrise;

As the months went by the page was platform to our souls
Opening our lives to interpretation;
Our dreams and fears were spelled out on those plain white sheets
With no concern for defamation;
Between us lay three thousand miles of continent
Allowing us our easy proclamations;
And we built a world based on honesty and faith,
Without the fear of consecration;

Oh, and we dreamed of future days
Standing on Wizard's Isle,
In the soft-lit night by the water's edge
Making gifts of lover's smiles;

Now fifteen years have come and gone
Since we lost that open line;
But I hope your life has gone alright, Jenny,
And I know you wish the same for mine;