On the eve of the Bonnaroo Music Festival as well as a year since the passing of Superfly co-founder Jonathan Mayers, it seems fitting to share these brief sentiments. My thoughts still return not only to things he said to me but also the way he conducted himself, particularly in the live music business where ego can often contaminate intent…

Sometimes people move in and out of your life. They’re directly in front of you for a short while and then they drift off to the periphery where you can still sense their presence with the knowledge that you can reconnect at the proper moment. Jonathan Mayers was one of those people for me.

I first met Jon in the late ‘90s at a post-Jazz Fest event in New Orleans that he promoted with the Superfly folks. Then, starting in 2002, when we launched the Bonnaroo Beacon daily newspaper, I’d often exchange pleasantries when I dropped off a few copies in the admin trailer.

Subsequently, when I was working on an article about the concert industry, I would occasionally email him a question and he would typically share some insight, off the record. When he did so, he’d sign off as Mark Felt, who was better known as “Deep Throat,” the Watergate source for Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein. I’m neither Woodward nor Bernstein but I appreciated the gag, as well as his kindness by elevating me into such august company.

I also recall another occasion that demonstrates his character. It took place around 2:00 a.m. just outside Bonnaroo’s That Tent in 2013. I was walking over to grab some late-night Beacon photos when I saw Jon approaching the entry point that led backstage. I was about 100 yards away, so I couldn’t hear his conversation with the person in charge of security—someone in his early 20s who was shaking his head to communicate an emphatic “No!” I then watched Jon reach to his neck, at which point he realized that he didn’t have his Infinity Pass, which would have granted him access to any location at the festival. I imagine he had jettisoned it for some reason having to do with the lateness of the hour.

In such a situation, I know plenty of folks who would respond to the person working security with some variant of, “Do you know who I am?” (That’s never a winning question, by the way.) Others would ratchet up their sense of outrage and browbeat the 20-something who was just doing his job.

Instead, Jon sort of dropped his head in frustration with himself, owned his mistake and walked away.

I know this is a small thing, but that’s exactly the point. Life is about such small things, which say so much about us. 

Jonathan Mayers was someone who could speak silently with eloquence, humor and grace.