According to an article in the entertainment section (of all places) on nola.com, my source for all things New Orleanian, the owner of Snug Harbor, George Brumat has died. He was a young 63, and died of an apparent heart attack.
Brumat also was one of the former owners of perennial favorite beer joint Port of Call. I never had occasion to visit Port of Call, to my knowledge anyway, but I did get a chance last August to finally hit Snug Harbor. After years of wandering down Frenchman Street looking for interesting things to do outside of the French Quarter and looking in its windows my husband and I decided to finally take the plunge.
We ended up using the bathroom and then leaving after speaking with some very nice hostesses about the standing room only in the small performance area. I was pregnant at the time and not much for standing--or smoking, which is still allowed--so we ended up at The Spotted Cat, where the Jazz Vipers rocked (er, jazzed) my socks off.
Snug Harbor was a nice establishment, though, and hearing of Mr. Brumat's death makes me all the more wish I'd stayed that night to see what was what. Names like Charmaine Neville and various Maraslises always grazed the roster for the month, but never once did I give in to my curiosity and attend what is considered by some to be THE place to see jazz acts in New Orleans.
Mr. Brumat's passing only goes to show that you should just do whatever it is now or forget about it. Like the way things were before the Big K, that time will pass and it will be too late.
Mr. Brumat seemed to have made jazz appreciation--especially modern jazz--his life's work. The man had quite a few tricks up his sleeve to accomplish his goals, too. He made it possible for music students to get in for free so they could observe professionals in an appropriate setting for learning purposes. He reopened Snug Harbor as soon as he was able after Hurricane Katrina and took an economic loss just to give musicians a place to play and locals a place to go where they could forget about the chaos.
To me, that is more than dedication. It is the way of life for many folks in the Crescent City. You just don't find people like that anymore, and you generally don't find them outside of places like Nola.
Thus, Nola has lost another of her champions. As the comments on the article note, Mr. Brumat will be mourned and he will be missed. I hope his legacy--of kindness and care for building the culture and the morale around town--lives on through some other willing participant who will take over duties at Snug Harbor and keep it safe and sound until I get myself back down to New Orleans.
Any takers out there?
