Folk artist — and Local 30-73 Life Member — Bill Hinkley died on May 25 at the Minneapolis Veterans Medical Center of complications stemming from myelodysplastic syndrome. Although it has been weeks since, nurses and patients are still talking of the huge numbers of fellow musicians and friends who came to visit during his last days.
I knew Bill from my first days on the West Bank. It was the fall of 1972, and Bill and his inseparable other half, Judy Larson, were playing a gig at the old Riverside Café on Cedar Avenue.
I had just hit town completely unknown, and had been recently introduced to them by Local 30-73 member Pop Wagner, who met Bill Hinkley in 1970 while Pop was still in college up in Ashland, Wisconsin.
So I’m standing in the back of the packed house at the Riverside, and Bill looked up and spotted me, and he nudged Judy. "Say Judy! That looks like Charlie Maguire!" "Sure is, Bill!" Judy said in an over-the-top voice, as if Woody Guthrie had just walked into the room. Back to Bill: "Do you think he’d come up and do just one little song?" Then to the audience: "You’d love to hear Charlie Maguire sing wouldn’t you? Sure you would! Hey, Chas! Come on up here!" Instant front set.
Another time, I ran into Bill again. He said, "Chas, glad to see you! Say, Judy and I are going over to this guy’s house in Saint Paul. He’s thinking of starting a weekly radio show. Why don’t you come along and sing him a few of your songs?" That "guy" was Garrison Keillor, and thanks to Bill, I was signed on to the show as a frequent guest for the next nine years.
Friends remembering Bill in the weeks since his passing told of his amazing powers of recall and memory, not to mention of course his casual genius on mandolin and fiddle.
Pop Wagner remembers: "Bill was a fount of inspiration and a friend who never ceased to amaze me with his vast, yet accessible knowledge, wit, and charm."
Even when Bill was lying in hospice, he would open his eye just a little and instantly recognize every visitor in the room, calling each by name.
Pop sums it up: "I can speak for Bill’s many and far-reaching friends: We will miss him dearly."
