The Pitchforks stayed at our house on the way to Chicago to sing the national anthem at a Bull's game. On the morning they left, Ben sat down at our piano and for two hours, playing from memory, enthralled us. He talked as he played, took requests, remembered stories from his youth and was, as always, the most gentle gentleman imaginable. He was ever one of the best things about get togethers with the Pitchforks. We will miss him. I wish we could have known him a lot longer.