A Gentle Spirit Remembered: How Todd Snider’s Quiet Kindness Left a Lasting Mark on Green Bay
Long before headlines spoke of loss, Todd Snider was already something rare in modern music — a gentle spirit who showed up not just with songs, but with sincerity. In Green Bay, Wisconsin, his name is spoken with a particular warmth, tied to memories that go far beyond the stage lights.
Carl Laes, a local music lover and longtime booker at the historic Riverside Ballroom, remembers the first time he tried to bring Todd Snider to town in 2003. It was supposed to be a simple booking. Instead, Snider fell ill with the flu and turned back toward Nashville. Laes found out only an hour or two before the doors were set to open that the show wouldn’t happen.
What followed became pure Todd Snider.
A month later, Snider returned, played three hours straight, and charged half of his original fee. It wasn’t a publicity move. It was instinct. Over the next 13 years, Laes would bring Snider back again and again, building a relationship rooted in trust, humor, and mutual respect.
Snider’s touring schedule often took him between Minneapolis and Chicago, but he rarely passed up the chance to stop in Green Bay. The Riverside Ballroom, with its intimate feel and lack of pretension, suited him perfectly. It was a space where storytelling could breathe — and where there were no “shushers” to stifle laughter or connection.
Laes believes Snider had a soft spot for underdogs. Not just audiences, but people. Independent bookers. Local musicians. Anyone trying to make something honest with limited resources. That empathy showed clearly in 2015, when Snider invited local artists to bring their instruments and join him for an informal song circle in the Riverside parking lot. He called it Occupy Main Street, and more than 100 people showed up. When he heard Green Bay band The Chocolateers play, he loved it so much he asked for a copy of their debut album to take back on the bus.
When news of Snider’s death broke on Nov. 15, Laes’ phone lit up with dozens of messages within hours. Musicians and friends all shared the same sentiment: Todd Snider was a musician’s musician.
He poured everything into his performances. Not with perfection, but with presence. He was known to stop mid-song, forget where he was, and launch into a story or joke — not as a gimmick, but as a way to reconnect with himself and the room. Sometimes, those moments led to laughter. Other times, they led somewhere deeper.
Snider struggled with stage fright, and at times his vulnerability was visible. But those were often the nights audiences remembered most — when his soul seemed to spill out through the cracks. He had the rare ability to make people laugh at the beginning of a song and cry by the end.
Green Bay saw him many times — likely 15 or more — including opening for his friend John Prine in 2002 and again in 2019. His final appearance in the area came in 2022, closing a long chapter of shared history.
After his passing, Laes couldn’t shake a simple question: who would honor Todd Snider the way he had honored others? The answer became a tribute concert at the Riverside Ballroom, featuring local artists donating their time, with proceeds benefiting Paul’s Pantry. No one would be turned away for lack of funds.
Because, as Laes said quietly, that’s what Todd would have done.
In the end, Todd Snider didn’t just leave behind songs. He left behind kindness, humor, and a trail of human moments that still echo — softly, but unmistakably — in places like Green Bay.