Throughout my time as a commissioning editor, they would arrive like clockwork. On average, every two-weeks or so, one would be waiting in the mailroom in its rumpled brown envelope, and another would be lurking in my e-mail in-basket in the form of an attachment with a “please confirm you have received this” request.

Their titles varied but the subject matter was invariably the same: how a walk across Spain was a life-changing experience for the author. These were (and continue to be) one of the most frequently proposed book projects in all of religious publishing. In a matter of decades the Camino has become its own category, a soul-focused walking literary phenomenon that shows no signs of blisters or of wearing out its metaphorical soles.

Late in spring of 2006, I had a conversation with a photographer based at Queen’s University who wanted to talk to me about a possible book project. He, too, had walked the Camino, carrying a large-format camera with him. His photographs were remarkable, intense, haunting.

No less striking was detail that he had walked this famous pilgrimage route with Oliver Schroer, one of Canada’s foremost musicians. It happened that I had just heard a preview version of Oliver Schroer’s forthcoming CD.

This was during another meeting about a different book with the Toronto-based stained-glass artist, Sarah Hall, a friend of Oliver’s. As we talked about her forthcoming book, (Windows on our Souls, Novalis, 2007) Oliver’s insinuating violin echoed through Sarah Hall’s high-ceilinged studio. The music, like incense, wafted all around us and lingered above us as we talked. During our conversation she told me that was music from a soon-to-be released CD of pieces that Oliver Schroer had recorded in various locations as he walked the Camino. He also included the sounds of passing goats, curious locals, and on one track, some perfectly timed church bells.

Now, here was Peter Coffman with photographs taken during that same journey. As we talked about the photographs we began to sketch out the (inevitably very expensive) project that I would need to take to my next editorial board meeting before it could be considered a “go.”  I envisioned a book where the story would be told primarily by the images, with minimal, journal based text and commentary. What could “fill-in” the details could be an accompanying audio CD of Oliver’s music, perhaps of some pieces that had been recorded along the Camino but which had not been included in the commercial CD. An intriguing project began to take shape.

In the tough world of commercial publishing I knew this would be a hard sell all round because of the sense that the Camino might be a saturated topic and perhaps, even more limiting, the knowledge that the production expenses that such a publishing venture would incur. There was no point in reproducing Peter Coffman’s fine-art photographs as tiny thumbnails on cheap, image-blurring paper. Then there was the technical issue of where and how to package a CD inside a conventional book. But before we could deal with these production issues, there was Oliver Schroer to consider. Would he agree?

Summer would soon be upon us and, as usual, I would be in Winnipeg, where Oliver happened to be performing at the annual folk festival.  That’s where he and I arranged to meet.

On a wonderful summer’s day of dry-bone prairie heat, Birds’ Hill Park was crowded and performances were underway on all the festival stages. The Wailing Jennies singing “The Parting Glass” here and Ferron singing “Ain’t Life a Brook” over there. Oliver had just finished backing up some friends and was on the performer’s side of a flimsy wooden fence.

We had a decidedly atypical publishing conversation in blistering heat, surrounded by music fans, and to the accompaniment of the next act in the line-up. The outcome was “yes” this was a neat idea, “yes” there were unused tracks form the commercial CD that we could use, “yes” he had some personal journal material that we might use, and “yes” he knew that everything depended on getting the project approved. He left to get back on stage and I started to work on the details of a proposal and the kind of contracts it would require.

Many months went by – which in glacial publishing time is the equivalent in the mere seconds. I still had not got the project approved, though I had a contract ready for him should that time come. Then Peter Coffman phoned me with news about Oliver’s leukemia. He had just completed a new CD, Hymns and Hers, but his illness was unrelenting. In June, 2008, Oliver planned to give what he knew would be his final public performance. Days after that sold-out concert in Toronto and while he was still receiving treatment in hospital, Diane Flacks interviewed him for the Toronto Star and asked him for his thoughts on the event:

“It was perfect,” Schroer says with a sigh. “There was nothing I could have wished for differently. For the audience, it felt spiritual and very emotional.”

After all, it was goodbye.

One of the best by-products of the evening, he says, was people's connection with each other and their willingness to not shy away from his dance with death. He clearly doesn't.

"I could desperately fight death, but it's not going to change anything. I have a strong sense of acceptance – in the sense of not cursing God or scouring the Internet for an herbal solution – and, at the same time, trying for more time.”

But there was no more time to try for. Oliver Schroer died on July 3, 2008, four weeks after that final concert. 

I filed away an unsent and unsigned contract for an almost-book and although the book project never happened, Peter Coffman and others who knew Oliver well have created a website about Oliver and his music. There, you can read extracts from Oliver’s Camino journal. He signs off one of the early entries this way: “In parting, the pilgrim’s toast: ULTREIA It means something like, you can go on, you can go farther… you can make it. And this is what I will now attempt to do.”

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LINKS:

http://www.oliverschroer.com/

For Peter Coffman’s haunting photographs of the Camino:

http://petercoffman.com/?albumid=1

For a performance clip from the Stormy Night’s Productions’ video of Oliver’s final concert:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H-_sjz6Iazo

For  the full Diane Flacks article “Gracefully Taking Leave of Life” in The Toronto Star click here:

http://www.thestar.com/life/2008/07/05/oliver_schroer_gracefully_taking_leave_of_life.html

And for the CBC Music’s item on Oliver Schroer’s Camino experience, with video:

http://music.cbc.ca/#/blogs/2012/5/Oliver-Schroers-Musical-Pilgrimage-on-the-Camino