My fondest memory of Stan was during a concert in the early 1980s, outside at the Astrolabe in Ottawa, right at the edge of the water. He, Garnet and the band were winding up the final verse of a really rocking rendition of “The Mary Ellen Carter” when it happened. Just as Stan inhaled for that last basso profundo belt of “like the Mary Ellen Carter, rise agaaaiiinn”—he inhaled a moth! Yessiree, ma’am. A big white flappin’ moth. We could see it from the “cheap seats” in the back row. He sputtered, he choked, he gasped, he doubled over and turned rosy red in the face. The rest of the band was first transfixed in shock, then dissolved in paroxysms of laughter. A stage hand ran over with a glass of water and Stan regained his cool (and his colour). Then he paused, looked meaningfully at the band and said, “One! Two! Three!” and picked up that memorable last line without missing a note. ’Twas magnificent, and they got a standing ovation.

—Shelley Rabinovitch, Nepean, ON