I have been thinking of Vic Heyman this week. Vic passed away earlier this week, leaving his astounding wife and best friend of decades, Reba, and their children.
Vic was more than a friend to me, and more than a friend to dozens (hundreds) of independent musicians, mostly from the folk world. He was a benevolent patriarch I suppose, since an entire musical subculture from coast-to-coast saw him as the kindest of father figures in our own little way.
He was a genuine patron to those of us who created art in his preferred medium. He supported talent and grit and perserverance and good people. Needed help to fix your car to get to a gig? Cover your touring costs? Get a laptop to do business? Vic supported dozens of us, if not more, through our leanest times. I'd bet he and Reba's names are thanked more times in the liner notes of more indie artist CDs than just about any other names in the world.
My parents aside, Vic was my first benefactor. We met at the Kerrville Folk Festival in 1995, my virgin trip to Texas. We kept in touch, because he and Reba have always been fine correspondents that way.
A few years later, having relocated to Austin to become good at this thing I do, Vic heard fear in my voice; he heard the same fear he’s heard from hundreds of us – that there was no money to support our habit for music. And he sent me a check which I happily cashed—but not without first making a copy of it and framing it.
In the years since, Vic provided contacts for me, booked me actual real-live gigs back east, got me on back on stage at Kerrville in 2004, and housed and fed me when I traveled their way. And I was not alone. We had dinner just about every year when he and Reba came to Austin. Dinner was always at Roy’s downtown. I think it’s Reba’s favorite.
We musicians have these lists of fans (some casual, some rabid), but I’d venture to guess that the most memorable of all is Our First True Fan—that first person who believes in us and what we do with sheer force of will before anyone else ever does. Vic was that guy.
I’m thinking a lot about Reba this week, too. About the depth of their love, illustrated by generosity towards each other and the world, made more challenging by the Parkinson’s that consumed Vic’s body a bit more each year. I’m imagining what it’s like to lose your dearest friend, your partner of so many years, your constant companion. So I’m thinking of Reba, thinking of my mother, too, and thinking how much I love my husband.
But mostly, I’m thinking of Vic, and raising my glass to a truly one-in-a-million soul.