Wade was diagnosed with a brain tumor maybe two years ago and fought it for 18 months but fell last spring, at 49. Left two daughters, one of whom you know of, Jenny (now Danielle, very cool chick, traveled with her into the Congo in 04), and a very young Samantha (I hope that's her name, will advise), maybe 7 or 8. His wife had huge medical issues of her own, and Wade had to deal with that for years, almost twilight zonish, while arranging and producing music shows for the Caribbean cruise ships. He never really committed to his own music, much to his own disgust and despair, and ended up battling a variety of authorities over taxes and profits -- last time I saw him was in LA in the Spring of 2007, frail but fighting on all fronts, and we talked about just dropping everything and following the tune, but it was wistful and wishful on his part, as he always was so quick to admit, and he died with a lot of promises left on the floor. He would be laughing to read this, I guarantee you. It's amazing, though, how often he remembered to say "I love you, man" at the end of every conversation with everybody, and that's probably the most impact I can attach to his effect on all of us. Wish I could tell you to ask him if I got this all right, I am sure I have, but there is always the truth, that vivid third version.
-- from a note to Lisa D., fellow GDS alum, written in 2009; Wade died March 8, 2008