Steve Weber, who recently moved back to Eau Claire after a three decade absence emailed in to share a memory of recently deceased music icon Lou Reed. Steve was living in New York City when this happened ...

4:00 in the morning, mid-eighties. Club Danceteria in NYC. There's a big commotion – a buzz going through all four floors simultaneously – Lou Reed has arrived. He's on the first floor where the live band is playing.  The talk is that he'll sit in with the band.  But this is New York – the clubs are always full of famous/infamous people – who cares? No one really.  But this is Lou Reed.  I hear it being said all around me … "No shit, Lou Reed!?"

I'm on the third floor (the "DJ Floor"), dancing with friends, and everybody heads for the stairs … three floors of high drunk Danceterian's all vying for a spot in front of the stage on the first floor.  "Lou Reed ... is it really Lou Reed?" And then, there he is on the side of the stage – and the place goes apeshit.

He picks up a guitar and joins the cute punkie chic at center mic, mid-song.  I am no longer at Danceteria – now, for just a moment, I am at the coolest place on earth.  We all know it, we all feel it, it is our shared quintessential New York moment.

4 AM  … Danceteria … Lou Reed ...

He drives the awestruck, spike-haired punkies through three or four nameless songs, not his, but no one cares – it's Lou Reed.

And then he's gone.

I stumble back up to the third floor where we dance until  8 AM  to Sweet Jane, Heroin, and Walk On The Wild Side. Not exactly dance tunes, but we love the DJ for keeping our moment alive.

– Steve Weber