Thanks so much for Jeff Jacoby’s column about Vaughn Meader (“When the joke was on JFK,” Op-ed, Nov 20). I remembered listening to “The First Family” album with my family in the early 1960s, and Jacoby is right: It clearly was different political comedy than what we have today. While Meader’s national fame evaporated in 1963 after the assassination of President Kennedy, Meader lived on.
Imagine my surprise when, in the 1990s, I met Abbott (as he was known to us) Meader in Hallowell, Maine, where he lived the last years of his life. He became an institution here. His comedy continued, but he was known to us also as a talented singer, songwriter, and musician. He inspired many young musicians in town, and brought guest artists to us from all over the country who came to visit him and and play in our clubs. Even when his health was failing, he never stopped playing for us.
Nearly a decade after his death, in every club in town, if you mention Abbott’s name, a smile will spread across the faces of many in the room who had the good fortune to call him our friend.
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