I always enjoyed the time I spent chatting with Ed Sprankle on the
phone about A-rolls. I looked forward to buying A-rolls from him as
well, both as recuts on his "Echoes" reissues and on his eagerly
anticipated auctions (when rolls were still "affordable!").  Often,
Ed would give me rolls for free, as "gifts."  All they needed was
a little TLC and some patching up.

Ed even recorded a cassette of his Seeburg E for me, gratis, because
I told him how much I enjoyed his story about how he restored it. He
was extremely proud of his newly rebuilt Seeburg E with violin pipes.
I was just speaking with him by email the other day (he was cursing
the fact he was still not "savvy" as far as emailing JPEG attachments
go!).

And now Ed is gone, and the machine that he loved is silenced.
Ed lived for his music and made his music everyone's.

The blues have certainly got me.  This is a very big, very genuine loss
for everyone in this hobby.  Ed was still sending me his "Reward" list
for any of those elusive Capitol blues rolls he didn't have (not that
I'd ever locate any!).  Sadly, he never got to finish his quest.

He probably never could in several lifetimes.  But that pursuit,
and the true love and appreciation of music *and music rolls* kept
him going.  And now a musical legacy is gone with him.

Mechanical music by its very nature ephemeral: drop a nickel in,
hear a tune, and "poof!" -- it's gone.

Mechanical music collectors themselves are an esoteric lot, comprising
just a tiny sliver of the collector universe.  The Ed Sprankles of the
world never make it to "The History Channel" or "American Heritage" or
"Ken Burns' Jazz" or "Smithsonian" Magazine or NPR.  They should.

I only hope that, where Ed is now, Seeburgs and Coinolas are always
playing, beer is still a nickel, Jimmy Blythe sits recording, and --
upon a loading dock on North Kedzie Avenue in Chicago -- fresh, newly
perforated Capitol music rolls await shipment, stacked as high as the
eye can see!

Mark Forer