"I, like alot of others, found out about Bo through Lucinda. Down to Bastrop. I saw the CD laying on her floor and said, This looks cool, who is it? She gave it to me and I played it ten times in a row. A few months later, a buddy of mine was coming over to my house for dinner and said he had a friend in from out of town, could he bring him too? As fate would have it, Bo Ramsey from Iowa came over the night corn on the cob was on the menu. I was telling them about the train whistle that sometimes blows late at night from the tracks near my house. On cue, thru the open window, that lonesome sound wafted in, punctuating my sentence. It did it because Bo was there. Things always seem a little more aligned when he's in the vicinity. If you're ever broke down at night on a deserted stretch of blacktop, you'd do worse than to have Bo's truck pull up, ciggy's spilling out of the ashtray, roadmaps coffee-glued to the floorboard. Jump in, take a ride. You may never want to get out . . ."

     --  Jim Herrington