No one in the Lu camp could have known that five short months ago would be the last time we’d share a stage with friend and legend, John Prine. We landed in the Dominican Republic and promptly found ourselves among a sea of familiar faces - all ready and excited for John’s

inaugural festival, All the Best Fest. Everything was laid out perfectly - every “i” dotted, every “t” crossed. What we didn’t know then, was that each wave that lapped upon the shores of Punta Cana, every strum of his guitar, each familial quip between songs, every laugh,

every hug - was worth more than gold.

Time is as illusory as it is precious. It’s a confounding thing and we tend to forget about its passing all together until we’re stung by the absence of someone we love. That sting gives way to an ache and ultimately a vacuum, but John

touched so many with his work that at the very least, we can take comfort in knowing that we are not alone in our grief. That pit in each of our stomachs, the tears that stream down our cheeks - are all just evidence of heaven getting a lot more interesting.

We hope that vodka and gingerale is as cold as ice, John. Keep the band warmed up for us.