Bill Ector's perfect moment arrived on April 15, 2005.

That's the day he climbed on stage at the Wanee Festival in Live Oak, Fla., strapped on a bass guitar and joined his heroes, the Allman Brothers Band, on "One Way Out."

Courtesy of Nancy Putnam (ENLARGE)

Bill Ector (left) would set up a booth to sell his magazine, Hittin' the Notes, at music festivals, such as this one held November 2006 in Quincy, Fla.

It was an out-of-body moment for the die-hard Allman Brothers fan. But he was such a skilled musician that when the regular bass player invited him to sit in on a song, he didn't miss a beat.

"At first, the drummer looked at Bill like, 'Who the hell are you?' " said his friend Ron Currens of Atlanta. "But then he realized Bill could really play, and it was OK."

"He told me after the show that he was the happiest person on the planet," Mr. Currens said.

The memorial service for William Howard Ector III will be 3 p.m. Saturday in the Marietta Middle School auditorium. Mr. Ector, 56, died of a brain tumor July 9 at his Marietta residence. Mayes Ward-Dobbins Funeral Home is in charge of arrangements.

Mr. Ector graduated from Marietta High School, attended Georgia Southern University for a while and worked a series of jobs — construction, project management, banking, engineering — through the years.

But none of them were as defining as his love of music.

Swept up in Beatlemania, he taught himself to play guitar, bass and keyboards. When he discovered the Allman Brothers, it was like a cosmic explosion.

"Music was his passion, and he thought the Allman Brothers were extremely talented musicians, especially Duane," said his sister Betsy Ector Goss of Atlanta.

Mr. Ector played slide guitar using an empty Coracidin bottle on his finger, just as the late Duane Allman did. He laid down bluesy riffs on a Hammond B-3 organ, wrote songs that he played for family and friends, and carried his guitar everywhere.

Once, when he was on stage playing backup, he "ripped into a blues solo that just blew my mind," Mr. Currens said.

In 2003, Mr. Ector landed his perfect job. He became the publisher of Hittin' the Note, a magazine dedicated to the Allman Brothers' music and legacy.

He interviewed musicians and wrote first-person columns, including one that described his "pilgrimage" to Macon to visit historically significant Allman Brothers sites.

He rambled across the country, setting up a Hittin' the Note booth at festivals and selling subscriptions to fans.

And he became a fixture at every Allman Brothers show, where he befriended the band and became well loved by their followers.

"He was the perfect ambassador for the magazine," Mr. Currens said. "Bill was the master of the five-minute meeting. He remembered people's names and made each person he spoke to the center of the universe for that moment."

It wasn't just that Mr. Ector knew everything about the band.

He shared what he knew with a laid-back generosity that reflected the band's 1960s roots.

When news spread of his failing health, Allman fans drove from as far away as Chicago to visit. Others posted tributes online.

"People adored Bill — from his growing-up years in Marietta, all the way up to the day he died," his sister said. "He was the most upbeat person, with this magnetism that made everyone shine in his presence."

His service will include a performance of "Little Martha," a gentle guitar instrumental that Duane Allman wrote.

"There is this incredible, huge family of Allman Brothers fans that Bill was a part of," his sister said. "And believe me, they loved him."

Other survivors include a son, Ben Ector, of Marietta; a daughter, Hannah Ector, of Athens; and another sister, Sara Ector Vagliano, of Stonington, Conn.