Three years ago today, we were playing the second of a two-night stand at Minneapolis’s 400 Bar. We coaxed our old friend Mark Freeman on stage to play “I Wanna Be Your Lover” with us (Dylan’s, as opposed to the other geographically appropriate song of that name we could have picked), and then retired to our tour bus, where we awaited our driver and the early morning trip to Chicago. To quote Snoopy, suddenly a shot rang out!, and before we knew it we found ourselves police-taped into a crime scene. From our windowless bunks, we had no idea what happened, and wondered if our equipment was safe, though no one was exactly anxious to leave the bus to check.