When Brendan Mullen came to Portland last year for a book event at Powell's, Nancy Rommelmann threw a party and introduced him around. She remembers her friend, who passed away Monday, in a nice post at Native Intelligence:

Brendan had both driven the LA punk era of the 70s and 80s and documented it, its epiphanies and deaths, its rattiness and joys. But he never seemed, to me, nostalgic for it; he seemed circumspect, and concerned with getting things right. And happy, I told Hector; that the longer I knew Brendan, and I had known him twenty years, the more joyful he became. I told Hector, also, of Brendan's generosity; how after my first big story for the Weekly, he was the first person to phone and congratulate me. It was a call that made me feel validated, as I imagine his giving venue to so many at the Masque did, the way his oral histories did, by giving people voice.

"That's how he was," said Hector, wiping at a tear with a crumpled piece of paper towel.

Read the whole thing.

Previously on LA Observed:
Brendan Mullen, punk promoter was 60