Hello friends. Hope you are doing well as we kill time until
Phish's glorious return to Merriweather Post Pavilion next weekend.
I'm here to write, without a doubt, one of the saddest posts I will
ever write. So without further ado, allow me to begin “It Was 20
Years Ago Today : The Day the Music Died, August 9
th,
1995.”
The summer of 1995 was going pretty good and the fall was
looking
really good.
All of my shows were over by the time July rolled around. The Dead
had finished up their chaotic Summer Tour and had issued an open
letter to the fans about their behavior. They threatened to stop
touring if we didn't clean up our act. I can't remember my reaction
to it because I wasn't gate crashing and swinging drugs on the Lot.
But I did have a Fall Tour to look forward to. They were doing a
3-night run at the Spectrum in Philly in September, and I had scored
tickets for all three nights. They were doing a multiple night run in
Boston at the original Garden and it was the last event to be held
there. My friend, who is a huge Red Sox/Celtics fan, had tickets for
all of the shows. On each ticket they printed a word at the bottom,
so if you had the whole run it spelled out “Would tear this old
building down;” a line from Samson and Delilah.
And then it happened. I can't really explain how bad I felt
about it. I hadn't lost a parent yet, so this was probably the
biggest loss I had suffered yet. I was working at Keystone Machine in
Littlestown, running the #078 horizontal mill. We had a shitty little
radio that was tuned to a country station out of Baltimore. It was
noon and the announcer said “ Reports out of Marin County in
California” and I knew Jerry was dead. What other news would come
out Marin County? My fellow co worker saw how ashen I was and asked
if I was alright. I said, “yes” and since it was lunch time, I
went out to the parking lot to compose myself. I spent the rest of
the day in a daze. Adrian stopped by and we chatted for a few
minutes. He was just as stunned as I was.
I left work and then had to go to my second job, two nights a
week at Weis Markets. Not sure why I even went in. I was there less
than an hour before I told my boss I was leaving. He didn't exactly
understand but left me go. I went over to Nad's and we went out in
the fields by his house and puffed out of his piece pipe. It was
really ornamental with bull horns on the front. He made it himself
and it was the perfect device for such a sad and solemn occasion.
During the weekend following Jerry's death, Custom Blends,
aka Planet RYO, held a memorial service up in York or Lancaster. It
was well attended and really had a community vibe. Remember, this was
before the Internet. There also was a huge event in Golden Gate Park
in SF with the band, a truly healing and grieving moment. And Robert
Hunter rose to the occasion and wrote this little gem:
An Elegy for Jerry
by Robert Hunter
Jerry, my friend,
you've done it again,
even in your
silence
the familiar pressure
comes to bear, demanding
I
pull words from the air
with only this morning
and part of the
afternoon
to compose an ode worthy
of one so particular
about
every turn of phrase,
demanding it hit home
in a thousand
ways
before making it his own,
and this I can't do alone.
Now
that the singer is gone,
where shall I go for the song?
Without your melody and taste
to lend an attitude of grace
a
lyric is an orphan thing,
a hive with neither honey's taste
nor
power to truly sting.
What choice have I but to dare and
call your muse who thought
to rest
out of the thin blue air
that out of the field of
shared time,
a line or two might chance to shine --
As ever when we called,
in hope if not in words,
the muse
descends.
How should she desert us now?
Scars of battle on her
brow,
bedraggled feathers on her wings,
and yet she sings, she
sings!
May she bear thee to thy rest,
the ancient bower of
flowers
beyond the solitude of days,
the tyranny of hours--
the
wreath of shining laurel lie
upon your shaggy head
bestowing
power to play the lyre
to legions of the dead
If some part of that music
is heard in deepest dream,
or on
some breeze of Summer
a snatch of golden theme,
we'll know you
live inside us
with love that never parts
our good old Jack
O'Diamonds
become the King of Hearts.
I feel your silent laughter
at sentiments so bold
that dare
to step across the line
to tell what must be told,
so I'll just
say I love you,
which I never said before
and let it go at that
old friend
the rest you may ignore.
About 2 weeks after this, Phish announced a lengthy Fall
Tour, which ran from the end of September until mid-December with a
week off after Halloween. Little did they know they would be under
the spotlight like never before but would rise and fly light years
beyond any expectations as they vaulted to the top of the live music
scene. I hit 4 shows and it was exactly what I needed to show me the
road does continue on. But there will always a little hole in my
heart and soul. I feel extremely blessed and fortunate to have seen
the Grateful Dead, and I look back in amazement at the adventures I
had all before I turned 23.
Dave Kemp
BA American Studies
PhD Rock and Roll
