RIP Maurice Williams

This is the post that I've known for some years that I would have to write, no matter how much I haven't wanted to.

For many years, I've been a fan and friend of Maurice Williams. I knew his songs long before I met him in person. I first photographed him in 2001, when I snuck into a taping of Carolina Calling at the McGlohon Theater. The Observer published my pic of Maurice and Arthur Smith sharing a laugh. Years later, when visiting Maurice at his home, I noticed that he had that photo taped to his wall.

There were so many adventures with Maurice. The night he joined Jackson Browne onstage at the McGlohon Theater to sing "Stay". Tours with a who's who of fellow artists. Hanging at recording sessions at Studio East. Stories of everyone from Otis Redding to Bo Diddley, and much more.

In 2017, Maurice called me and said, "I've always wanted to tell my story," and proceeded to gave me a number of cassette tapes of Maurice telling his life story. In 2020, with the world shut down, I finally put his book together. Maurice would have good days and bad, but he would always tell me that we would finish his book. When he was ready, he would say.

Over the last few years, I would call him to check in, but also tell him about things I had learned. That the Beatles had covered "Stay" in their show for a couple of years. That the Cyrkle played "Stay" to close their 1966 set, right before the Beatles went on stage. About Jackson Browne, Bruce Springsteen and Tom Petty covering "Stay"onstage in 1979. When the Avett Brothers covered "Stay" at their New Year's show in 2022, I called Maurice to tell him, and he told me, "Tell them I said Thank You!" Which I promptly did. I'm so glad that I did all of that.

Someday Maurice, I promise you, your story will be told. None of us live forever, but your music will. I sit here empty at the thought of losing you, unable to call or see you again. That said, I am glad that you are no longer in pain, and you can again move from behind the piano (as Otis Redding told you to do), and can dance and sing again up front for your audience in the sky. In the sky, Lord, in the sky.

My love goes out to Emily, and all of Maurice's friends. We have all lost something, and someone special.

Sometimes, Maurice would smile and say, "You're too much, man." So were you, good sir. So were you.

Save me a spot close to the stage. Until I photograph you again, someday.

Good night, Maurice.

-Daniel

August 7, 2024