A man with whose name I grew up, Jerry Wexler, has died.
(And, since my link doesn't appear to be working, here's the link to the Chicago Tribune story:
His name seemed to pop up on the back of every second or third record album I had; as a teen I hadn't the slightest idea of what role he played in bringing the music to me, but I knew, simply from context, that he was important. And he's gone now. What he wrought is still around, a reality of which I suspect he approved.