(For Dana) T.S. Eliot wrote that April is the “cruellest month.” Not for me. I find it’s barren February, with its unkind cold, and in which month I have known too many men of character who have died recently, and long past. At 6’7” with a perpetual mustache, bright blue eyes, and a voice like a thunderclap, Boyd Salsbury cut an imposing profile. His demeanor was gruff, his words carefully … [Read more...]