You may have never heard much about her before, but Odetta was one of the best known voices of the 1950s and 60s. I remember being moved as I listened to her sing a mix of folk, blues and spirituals in a soaring, classically trained voice -- nuanced, deep and expressive.

And she made a difference: Rosa Parks, who started the boycott of segregated buses in Montgomery, when asked which songs meant the most to her replied, “All of the songs Odetta sings.” The Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. referred to Odetta as "The Queen of American Folk Music."

Bob Dylan said in a 1978 interview, “The first thing that turned me on to folk singing was Odetta.” And when she appeared at a Carnegie Hall tribute to Bruce Springsteen in 2007 and turned his  “57 Channels,” into a chanted poem, he called  it “the greatest version” he had ever heard.

Odetta sang at the 1963 March on Washington, where Reverend King gave his “I have a dream” speech. She lived to see Obama win the election and it was reported that she hoped to sing at his inaugural. But she didn’t quite make it; she died on Tuesday, at 77.

Like the great South African singer Miriam Makeba,who died a few weeks ago, Odetta was a singer who inspired the world.(Listen for yourself  at  spiralfrog.com. Or go over to nytimes.com and listen to their 20-minute video compilation. And see their touching editorial comment on her in the 12/4 edition.)

Odetta's great fame ended in the 60s. When the Beatles came along and after Dr. King was assassinated, Vietnam became the focus, and the civil-rights inspired folk scene died out. Rock, disco, reggae –onward and forward. We moved along, faster, louder, electrified, less idealistic, more narcissistic.

I didn’t hear anything much about Odetta for years. She seemed to have become a bird caught in the honeyed amber of an earlier age. But she continued without fanfare, recording albums, and singing at music festivals around the world. And she still entranced the crowds who often came to hear others.

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A couple of years ago I took a magical journey in the Blue Ridge Mountains of  southern Virginia along a scenic byway called The Crooked Road, which is the home of bluegrass music. I visited the Carter family compound where Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash used to live. I watched luthiers, instrument makers  who make exceptional guitars for musicians like Eric Clapton. I attended toe-tapping radio shows featuring blue-grass banjo groups and close-harmony quartets.

The highlight of my trip was a concert in Bristol, considered the cradle of country music. And, surprise, among the performers was Odetta!

She was slimmer now, and had to sit when she sang. But she was more beautiful than ever in her caftan and head wrap. Her comments between songs were insightful, warm and wise. And her songs! Her phrasing and sensibility were complex and shaded. And her voice was still stirring. She brought tears to my eyes, both for the past and the present.

The next day I was sitting in  a shuttle van waiting to go to the airport, and Odetta and her manager entered the van. He was young and considerate. She was exquisite. I wanted to tell her how her music was a part of my youth, but I didn’t want to disturb her.  

She immediately started asking me questions:  Was I at the concert? Do I like bluegrass? Where  was I from? Did I have children?

By the time we got to the airport we had already discussed many of the joys and woes of single life, and getting older. “Men are like peas,” she smiled and winked. “I’ve had enough peas.”

She explained in a soft voice that she had been married three times and enjoyed many relationships, and was living peacefully single for many years. She based herself in New York, but loved traveling and meeting people around the world.

I wanted to interview her further for my Website, as a terrific role model of a talented, exceptional single woman. But life got in the way. I got sick not long after that and spent a year recuperating. I thought of meeting with her a couple of  times since, but knew we both traveled and I never followed-up. I just kept putting it off.

When I heard of her passing I thought of her gorgeous smile and found a photo of us connecting woman to woman.  

I was privileged to have heard Odetta’s legendary, transcendent voice on stage after so many years. And even more, I am grateful for experiencing her inner beauty, which I will never forget. 

Odetta Holmes, December 31, 1930 - December 2, 2008