The year was 1993.  I arrived in a small Central Michigan Town after driving two days in the rain.  I had caught a cold and was feeling quite sick.  After a long wait in line, I made it through the check-in process at the Michigan’s Women’s Music Festival.   This was my first Mich Fest experience.  A kindly soul hauled my gear and helped me set up my tent.  Fever and sniffles aside, I feel into a deep and seemingly dreamless sleep.  My mission to go to Michigan for the festival was clear.  There were black women drumming there and I wanted to meet them.

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