Legendary folk singer Odetta passed away this week.

While not a household word, the singer was a major influence on such singers as Bob Dylan, Joan Baez and even Janis Joplin. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr referred to her as the "The Queen of American Folk Music" and other singers honored her with the title of "The Voice of the Civil Rights Movement." Her album, Odetta Sings Folk Songs was one of the best selling recordings of 1963 for which she received one of three Grammy nominations. She was a fixture on concert tours in the 1960's and especially on college campuses. She loved the activist young people she met and influenced along the way. I was one of them.

Her death brought back deep personal memories.

In mid-1960's, I met her after a concert at Arizona State University. Because I had been organizing Hispanic garbage workers in a strike for better wages, I was led backstage after the amazing concert for a personal visit. She was my favorite singer and I was totally starstruck that I was to finally meet her. This majestic sizable figure emerged dressed in African garb, walked right toward me sporting a dazzling smile and said, "This is the one isn't it? This is the one that is helping those poor workers. I can tell from his face." With that, she hugged me and whispered, almost lyrically, in my ear, "We all love you for them and so many others. Don't stop with them, honey. There are so many others. You organize them and I will sing for them." She pulled back, smiled and asked if I would like to hear a verse or two. Several of us set around her like pupils as she strummed and sang "Oh Freedom". I was in heaven.

She entered my life once again in 1970 in Washington, DC. The Vietnam Moratorium, which I was CoChair, was having an event against the Vietnam War at the All Souls Unitarian Church . All Souls was literally hollowed ground. The congregation had been militant abolitionists in the fight against slavery. One of its assistant pastors, Reverend James Reeb, was killed during the Selma Marches in 1965. It was to be a nondenominational spiritual service with prominent religious leaders and Senator Eugene McCarthy reciting poetry.

Desperate to once again hear my favorite singer in person, I contacted Odetta's management and they made arrangements for her to perform at the evening candlelight service. On that April night the massive sanctuary was packed. Some of Washington's most powerful jammed the front pews eager for their opposition to the war to be noted. The religious leaders inspired with their remarks and McCarthy amazed with his quiet voice filling the church with his poetry. Then Odetta stood up and, gently strumming her own guitar, smiled and simply said, "We are in this together ,aren't we?" Her strong, powerful, deep and even masculine voice boomed out against injustice, war and hate. With her first notes, both powerful and common people were caught in her spiritual web. At the end she started singing "Let Us Break Bread Together" and the audience stood and senators held hands with organizers, swaying and singing to her music.

Afterwards, I went up to her and her manager said, "This is the young man that insisted you sing this evening." To my amazement, she said, " Oh, I met him before when he was organizing garbage workers. " Unable to control to myself I said, "You couldn't remember that!" She smiled, hugged me again and pulled back with one of her hands on each of my shoulders and looked me in the eye and said, " I told you. You organize them and I will sing. Here we are again, David." One more hug and she said, " I am tired and must go, but thank you for allowing me to serve."

With that she personally left my life but her music has always played in my home and my heart.