You Don't Have a Local Music Scene Without People Like This...

Written for RAYGUN by Des Moines' Kathryn Dickel:

How is a legend born? First, they do something other humans don’t normally do. That something makes a broad and important impact across a community of people, and a legend holds an almost superhuman devotion to that thing. They are rarely recognized for this devotion while they are doing it, and more often than not, we don’t realize them as a legend until they are gone.

Wendy Hull is a legend.

She passed from this community unexpectedly, shockingly June 12th. For those who might not know, Wendy Hull is widely regarded as THE Des Moines music super fan.

She went to A LOT of live shows, an increasing rarity in this world.

She came to those shows with an open heart, a devotion to the craft of music, and those who create it. I don’t think I have ever seen this kind of devotion from another in our community.

She made everyone, musician or not, feel like a rock star. When Wendy was talking to you there simply wasn’t anyone else in the room for her. Once she connected, you were her friend. That was a true gift because Wendy didn’t play at being your friend, she committed herself to it. She would comment on your posts, and send a DM if you lost someone or were going through a tough patch.

She would attend your party or patronize your business. She was keenly observant.

I was always touched at how she referenced a dish I had made or a hike I had been on during my vacation. Not just that I’d been on a hike, but she recalled the details and why it was important to me.

I think anyone who knew Wendy and benefitted from her love would say the same thing– she made you feel important. She usually requested to take a picture with you, even if she already had numerous ones.

This was part of her legendary love, and I believe one of the key ways in which she bestowed that love. I remember before I met Wendy in person I would see her posts on FB with picture after picture of people she had connected with.

When we finally met for reals at a gig she came right up to me and we started talking. The whole time I was secretly hoping she would ask me to take a picture with her. When she did, I don’t think she knew how honored I was to be asked. Her humble nature made it all the more special.

Many people have talked about Wendy’s beautiful light and unwavering devotion of friendship, but I also want to call attention to the fact that Wendy was a consummate music industry professional.

She was a writer, a promoter, a marketing titan, and had the most extensive knowledge base of the Des Moines scene I have seen in over 20 years in the industry. She was the human version of Google in this regard, with the added dimension of a multitude of relationships behind this knowledge. When you got in the weeds with her on this, her depth was breathtaking and it will likely not be replicated.

For a decade she produced a weekly comprehensive gig listing and music blog, “Wednesday’s Notes” that built a fan base for musicians, beer sales for venues and a community she took care of.

Wendy died on the first day of her new job, but it wasn’t a job in the industry she loved and supported with unpaid labor for over a decade. This is especially crushing for me because Wendy and I talked several times over the last months about how to make her passion her livelihood, providing her the financial security she needed through the thing that made her a legend.

When I wrote down my own goals for the Music Collective DSM earlier this year “Getting Wendy paid” was on it. Not because she asked for that or required it, but because she in fact needed it and she deserved it. When we would dreamscape about it I could see there was no better dream for Wendy.

I want to use my sadness, and frankly frustration, at Wendy’s passing to double down on building an industry that is at its highest vibrance, valued in our community and supportive of those contributing to it.

It is the best way I know how to honor her and that is what I'm going to do.

Farewell Wendy, watch over us there, as you did here. 😢💔