Guest Contributor:Terri Ann on The Eleven
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Guest contributor Terri Ann
“You know that moment, when you’re swinging on a swing, and you feel like you’ve escaped gravity for a split second? That’s what the 1-2 at the end of an 11/8 time signature is like. It whips you around. If you allow yourself, your mind will wander as you wonder, “Do I continue off into space or return for a repeat?” The Eleven, named for its time signature, uses this rhythmic allusion and looping lyrics to create full pendulum swings. Save for one rogue performance in 1975, The Eleven was dropped from the Dead’s repertoire in 1970, before I was born, and nearly 2 decades before I would see my first show. Loving this song in the ‘80s and ‘90s was considered “quaint” and treated with a silent, “Bless her heart.” I knew I would never see the Dead perform it, but didn't give up that wide-eyed hope.
St. Stephen transitions from 4/4 to 11/8 of The Eleven as it segues into The William Tell Bridge. It’s odd, it’s difficult, and it’s completely unmistakable. Jerry declared it unnecessarily complicated; Bobby and Phil were rumored to have called it constricting. Wanting to hear it played live was just an unpopular curiosity. But it was my curiosity and good curiosity never dies.
Fast forward to Citifield 2018, which was the first show I enjoyed with my whole family: my husband Chris, then 15-year-old Ian, 13-year-old Pierce, and 5-year-old Finn. Chris had been to a few shows by then, and this was Finn’s second. Floor tickets with two teens and a 5-year-old at Citi? I clearly love a good recipe for disaster.
Chris, Terri and the boys: 2018 Citifield Show6/16/2018 at the breakout of The Eleven
Shortly into the second set, Finn fell asleep in my arms as I danced and rocked him to the music. The band launched into St.Stephen, and I suddenly had a premonition that the band might actually break out the elusive Eleven. I felt it almost more than I heard it as the first notes of The William Tell Bridge began. My teen’s faces were lit by the glow of the stage lights and (dare I say) they were swaying, transfixed by the music and unphased by my squealing enthusiasm. Finn woke, since I must have been nearly squeezing him senseless, but luckily he was born a music lover and Deadhead, and was clearly in his happy place.
Photo by Mindunn Rose: Terri and Finn, 2018 Citifield
Finn in his daddy’s arms: Blissful. Citifield 2018
Although my arms were on fire from carrying Finn for so many songs, I just couldn’t let go, because I didn’t want any of it to end. As we walked across the bridge back to Flushing, I kept repeating in disbelief, “The Eleven. I got my Eleven. We all got it. We were together for this.”
Jewels polished and gleaming… and that is the test of the boomerang tossed in the night of redeeming.”
Many thanks to Terri Ann for sharing those beautiful memories!
For more on the history and interpretation of The Eleven, read this.
