Lightning and thunder couldn’t have been timed more appropriately for Maynard Silva’s memorial service at the agricultural hall in West Tisbury on Saturday afternoon. But the gathering of hundreds of friends, fans and anyone else began and ended with sunshine.

Maynard Silva, 57, died July 16 at the Martha’s Vineyard Hospital after a three-year struggle with cancer.

During the program, many came to speak passionately about the blues musician, the sign painter, the father, the Vineyarder.

Dark clouds rolled in. An unexpected cool breeze, blowing through the hall, caused an impromptu announcement by dozens of Mr. Silva’s friends. They called out at different ends of the room: “He is here.”

There wasn’t a dry eye in the place.

The large barn door was fully open behind the speakers. Many saw the bolts of lightning reach out through the distant dark sky as people spoke.

Laura Redington Whitaker, a radio announcer for WMVY and a longtime friend of the musician, started the stories. Relatives and friends followed with their tales.

Jim Thomas and his choir performed two spirituals. Mr. Thomas spoke of the value of the musician to his singing group and the history of blues going back to spirituals.

Tristan Israel, a songwriter and Tisbury selectman, sang a song written for Maynard. The lyricist in the song wondered about how the man struggled with his affliction, and his ability to rise above it.

Clarence A. (Trip) Barnes 3rd announced that the 10 moving trucks and one tour bus parked in a long line in the agricultural field nearby was done to make a point. They were all painted by Mr. Silva, Mr. Barnes said.

Mr. Barnes said he wanted all to know not just about his friendship with the painter but the work the artist put into all those vehicles. The signs on the truck weren’t just signs, they were art, he said.

“We talked about shortening my name to Trip,” Mr. Barnes said, and the audience roared with laughter.

Many Vineyarders spoke a moment, some well-prepared, some not so well-prepared, but all from the heart, about what made the songster so beloved.

Susan Klein, a nationally recognized storyteller, spoke of childhood memories of mischievous Maynard going back to the days when he was called Mike.

Mr. Silva’s two cousins Tom Anzer and Glenn Andrews each took a turn at the microphone to share about the fun of youth, of Maynard as a man full of life and music, well before he was a man.

A few spoke about the musician’s high-top red sneakers. Joe Keenan, a songwriter and performer, spoke of hearing about the red top sneakers blues singer in his own travels across Texas.

Maynard’s son, musician Milo Silva sat quietly with his friends, listening to the tributes.

The red sneakers sat on a chair, right next to the blues musician’s National guitar. The guitar stood up, a blue ribbon wrapped around the neck, the singer’s black hat keenly placed atop.

Flowers decorated a common table, with candles burning. The flames from the candles often danced with every breeze in the hall. In no time, due to the arrival of flowers, the table top took on the character of an altar. A small statue of Buddha sat amid the floral display.

As the skies cleared, the sun came out, and the community attention shifted to a huge potluck meal with ingredients from all the ends of the Vineyard. After the rain, the camaraderie of the afternoon shifted from the fellowship with a departed friend to the fellowship people could share with each other for a longtime friend.

With the sun hanging low in the west, and live stomping blues music stopping for a moment, the observance shifted to some fun.

Basia Jaworska Silva, the blues singer’s wife, was joined by Mrs. Whitaker for a root beer toast to the singer/painter/friend/husband/father/Buddhist/Islander. All hands were raised in the toast.