It was 1998, and Charles Neville and I were walking through the French Quarter on a steamy hot Orleans afternoon. Out of nowhere, a small man in a raggedy woolen overcoat approached Charles. Unhesitatingly, Charles embraced him, exclaiming, “Waterman Willie! When did you get out, brother?” “Last month.” “Well, here …
Read More »Charles Neville: Remembering the Neville Brothers' Sax-Playing Mystic
