Tribute To Cynthia Ayala Every

August 6, 2021

I first met Cynthia in the late eighties. Back then I was driving tour buses to supplement my fledgling music career, and a few days before accepting a trip up to Camp Mather outside of Yosemite for the first time, I got a call from the owner of the bus company saying, “I’ve got the perfect trip for you and your buddy – an all-expenses-paid four-days-of-fun in the mountains.” At the time I was sharing a house in Marin with a good friend of mine who also drove buses part-time. Since we only worked occasionally, we were skeptical about being offered a trip like this, because full-time drivers would have all had to pass on it for it to get way down to us. As it turned out, the client was the San Francisco Park and Rec Department, and the job was driving seniors up to the camp for a twice-annual stay in the woods. Savvy bus drivers looked at this and decided that there would be little tip money involved, and that they would be stuck in the mountains with little to do and worse, possibly no TV access. Hence, the reason why the trip was offered to us.

At the time, I was just 33-years-old and open to adventure. While the description of the trip sounded too good to be true, my friend and I decided to take a chance on it. And soon, as a result, a 33-year friendship began.

On June 13, 1988, the two of us guys went to the bus yard, got our vehicles, and then drove out to the Sunset District to pick up about 75 campers with sleeping bags, backpacks and hiking gear, which we loaded onto the buses. The Rec rep on my bus was a senior named Rita, and she said that we would be stopping for lunch at a park in the town of Oakdale, about halfway to camp. We when arrived at the park two hours later, the leader of the entire trip – this beautiful, dark-haired, energetic Latina woman with long pigtails and bangs bounded up onto the bus to greet the passengers while announcing that she was looking forward to seeing everyone up at camp, and she then turned to me with those big brown eyes and smile and said, “Hi! My name is Cynthia.”

She had a daunting task ahead of her. While she had been on the trip before as an assistant, over the previous winter Al Levy, the lovable longtime leader of the expedition, had passed away, and now this young 30-something woman was taking over. The old folks were skeptical at first, but if anyone was up to the task, it was Cynthia, who, with the sweetest disposition and endless energy, won over the doubting dotards by the second day.The trip turned out to be just fabulous. Camp Mather is spectacular, we got to drive out to the Hetch Hetchy Dam one day, and into Yosemite on another. And the highlight of the week was the Al Levy Talent Show on the last night, which was hosted by Cynthia and featured skits and performances by the seniors, as well as songs sung and played by bus drivers. From that day forward – in homage to the great Jimmy Rodgers, The Singing Brakeman – I became known as “Larry the Singing Bus Driver.”

In late August the trip took place again, and this time there were more people and buses. Some full-time drivers were involved, and they soon saw how great the trip was. As luck would have it, the following year some of the regular drivers wanted to go up to camp in place of us, but Cynthia specifically requested me and my housemate, so we got to go back in June of 1989. For the trip in August of that year, however, the owner of the company decided that he didn’t need us anymore, so he did not offer us the trip. We were really disappointed, but there was nothing that we could do.

However…One day after that August trip was over with, I got a call from an incensed Cynthia, as she was not a happy camper with the drivers that had been sent in our place. She then asked me, “What other bus companies do you work for? I will see about taking the contract elsewhere.”

Anyone in this room today probably already knows where this is headed. The following spring, Cynthia called me to say that Marin Airporter would henceforth be handling the senior trips, and that one of the stipulations for them getting the contract was that “Larry must be one of the drivers for the seniors.”

I was ecstatic to return to the camp in June of 1990 with this other company, and I had a marvelous time up there then and in August. I took perverse pleasure in sending a postcard of Camp Mather to the previous bus company owner, simply writing these eight words: Having a fine time, wish you were here!

While a year or two later Cynthia left Park and Rec to start producing shows on her own, I continued driving the seniors to camp twice each summer until 2006, when Marin Airporter lost the contract. But I had a great run, having gone up there for 18 years. Ironically, I am now old enough to ride on that bus!

But the story doesn’t end here. Cynthia and I stayed in touch, and over the years I performed a series of shows at her events with various bands. I remember doing a USO show somewhere in Oakland and more than a few other performances in downtown Petaluma for River Festivals. I always knew that when I got a call from her to play a show that it would be first-rate and a lot of fun, and she never let me down.

Over the more recent years we stayed in touch via Facebook and by exchanging old-fashioned Christmas cards over the holidays. While we hadn’t seen each other in many years, it was good to know that the longtime friendship had endured. But this past Christmas season I did not receive a card from her. At the time I did not think much of it, as sometimes mail gets lost, or folks get too busy to send cards. But then on July 8th, while I was traveling back east, I was shocked and saddened to my inner core to receive an email from Robert with the subject “Cynthia Maria Every Passing.” I had no idea that she had been battling brain cancer for the past year. Not only this, but glioblastoma, something that not only took away Senator John McCain and President Biden’s son Beau, but also one of my older brothers six years ago. So, I have an idea what she had experienced the past year, and my heart still aches just thinking about what she had to go through.

While her life was cut way too short – she was only a year older than me – it was a life well-lived, and, judging by the amount of people here today, she touched many and was loved by all. She had a profound effect on me from our first meeting in 1988, and my life has been fuller from our shared friendship. She will be forever missed, and always in our hearts.

And, I have no doubt, that she is already arranging shows and festivals with the angels up there in Heaven…