Vicki Fraser Obituary, Death Cause – Vicki Fraser was the only person in the world who, whenever you walked into a room, generated more excitement than she did. Her entire face would light up, and she would yell “BAAHHHH!” like a character from a Saturday morning cartoon. After that, she would proceed to announce—loudly and unavoidably—to the rest of the room who you were, how she met you, and all the reasons why you are amazing. She would do this like a Saturday morning cartoon character.
It’s been more than 25 years, but she did that to me within weeks of getting to know her at the Tranzac, and she did it again not too long ago there. In the middle of the 1990s, she moved from her birthplace of Ottawa to the nearby city of Guelph like a hurricane. It was instantly apparent that she lived for music: to sing it, to play it, to talk about it, to constructively criticise it, and to scream exuberant delight at anyone who dared to do it. She even lived for music.
The most essential part is that she loved to do all of those things with other people. Even when she was performing as a solo artist, she would surround herself with anybody and everyone that she loved, she would nod them over to a microphone so that they could sing harmony, and she would insist that everyone on stage take a solo. Vicki Fraser was the very definition of the word generous.
Almost immediately, she started hanging out with my band, Black Cabbage. Crow’s Feet is the name of the trio that she formed with our violin player, Sheila Gruner, and Tannis Slimmon, a major force in the local community. She appeared as a performer on open stages rather frequently. At any home party where people were breaking out acoustic guitars, you can bet your bottom dollar that Vicki was the one who was leading the hootenanny.