I once wrote Leonard Cohen a letter. I didn’t get a reply so I’ll never know if he read it, but I can only hope he did. He meant so much to me, and to so many of us.
In 2009, my dad and I went to see Leonard Cohen at Hanging Rock, and it was one of the most meaningful performances I’d ever seen. I would see Leonard again, but that one was special. Two weeks later, Black Saturday gutted a nearby region of Victoria. Many houses and lives were lost. My parents’ country house was destroyed.
Leonard donated the money from that Australian tour to the victims of Black Saturday. He’d said that he loved the region and he wanted to offer help, so he donated money he probably needed himself. I often think of his act of generosity and compassion when I listen to his music, or when I return to the house that we rebuilt. I wrote him a letter because I wanted him to know how much that meant to me, and to my dad.
What a beautiful man. I’m so sad that he’s gone. We still have his voice, and what he meant to us. At least we have that.