Irish poet-singer-songwriter Glen Hansard died last week, tragically and far too young at age 56, leaving behind a wife and three-year-old son. As evidenced by the viral outpouring of grief on social media, he also left behind more fans worldwide than he could have possibly known he had — including me.
My son first introduced me to Hansard’s indie-folk music 20 years ago, and my daughter and I had a truly masterpiece evening together at one of his concerts last October, as shared in this column from my archives…
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Sometimes, rare wonderful times, when everything seems to be going wrong it somehow all turns out wonderfully. Such was the case the other evening when a young child cried and technology pouted and traffic threw a tantrum – and serendipity just kept smiling over and again, and once more.
Ever since she was a toddler my daughter and I have gone on “Daddy Dates,” as she called them then, and still does, because to my great fortune she has not outgrown these special outings, just the two of us, even though she is now well into her thirties.
In one of my favorite photographs, Dallas, maybe 5 years old, wears a sunflower dress and holds a bouquet to match, and I am in a “tuxedo” which is what she called the sport coat she requested I wear. I, in turn, requested that when she was older if a boy did not open car doors and pull out her chair, she not give him another date.
Naturally, when she and I went to a concert in San Francisco’s Masonic Auditorium recently I opened doors and helped her into her seat because I do not want to be unworthy of future Daddy Dates.
This date almost ended before it even began because a tearful two-year-old did not want her mommy to leave. A delay that would surely make us late should have been frustrating, but instead it was actually a joy to watch my daughter soothe her own daughter with love and patience.
Heavy traffic, followed by a serpentine security line, then a brief snafu with our online tickets all conspired to make us miss the opening song. And yet, somehow, we made it to our seats literally five seconds before the house lights went down and the music rose up. It was as if serendipity winked and asked The Swell Season to wait specifically for us.
As for our seats, a birthday gift from my son, they were terrific: floor level, slightly left of the stage, and so close we could see Markéta Irglová’s fingers dancing – gently sometimes, other times frenetically and mesmerizingly, always seemingly perfectly – on the piano keys.
Similarly, the skill and passion of Glen Hansard strumming his acoustic guitar with speed and fury was a thrill to behold and explains the comet-shaped gash worn through its face just below the sound hole.
The Swell Season sang familiar old hits from the movie “Once” and new gems from their 2025 album “Forward,” but the highlight was the final encore, an acoustic rendition, sans microphones, with the ginger-and-grey-bearded Hansard magnetically leading 4,000 patrons in a goose-bumps beautiful sing-along of the classic American folk song “Passing Through” popularized long ago by Pete Seeger.
Joining in I was 11 again, transported back to elementary school when my beloved fifth-grade teacher Mr. Hawkins played guitar for sing-alongs.
Walking the city aimlessly after the concert, Dallas and I happened upon 608 Bush Street and serendipity smiled once more with a California Historical Society commemorative plaque noting that Robert Louis Stevenson, the great Scottish writer who penned “Treasure Island” and “Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” briefly lived and wrote here in 1879 and 1880.
Our Jekyll-and-Hyde evening continued on the drive home with freeway traffic wheezing along as congested as lungs with pneumonia. Yet this, too, proved to be a silver lining because it wonderfully extended our time together.
Naturally, I walked my date to her front door – but there was no need to apologize to her father for missing curfew.
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Essay copyrights Woody Woodburn
Woody’s new novel “The Butterfly Tree” is now available in paperback and eBook at Amazon (click here), other online bookstores, and is orderable at all bookshops.
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Woody writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @woodywoodburn.