Guest Contributions: On The Bus!
Hey You! Yes, I mean you! Share a story, a memory, an experience, a trippy drippy show, a review, etc. Share a pic!
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Chris O’Leary, founder of Art Is Dead, Facegroup group, and artist extraordinaire, shares his thoughts on August 9 1995, and the loss of Jerry:
August 9, 1995 I was a young man, well, a younger man anyway, and that day I was working as a traffic officer, standing in the middle of an intersection directing heavy traffic. I remember it as a hot day, but they all are when you're in the middle of the road. The heat coming off the engines all around, the endless choking exhaust, the waves of heat like a mirage rising from the blacktop, there is never any shade in an intersection and the Sun was blazing down. I saw more than a few people cross the street intently discussing a front page story in the local paper but I didn't think much of it.
Suddenly my friend Mark Scirocco rode up fast on his motorcycle right out into the center of the intersection. I said "Hey. What's up?"
He looked to be clearly upset, with an expression of what I read as anger and frustration, and said "You didn't hear?"
I said "Jerry is dead?" He nodded.
I don't know how I knew, but I did. It's not like it was on my mind, in fact I think my girlfriend had already sent for mail order tickets for the fall tour, where we all assumed he would've cleaned up again like he always seemed to have the capacity and luck to do.
But the worry of Jerry dying was always in the back of your mind. I heard people commenting on his health as early as 1982, wondering how long the band, and Jerry, would be around. Which I found pretty laughable, he had a head full of black hair and was thinner than Phil at the time. But as 84 and 85 rolled along it became a serious question, and "your friends are getting most concerned," as they say.
I was there at the RFK '86 shows in the 100 degree heat, they were turning fire hoses on the crowd to prevent heat stroke, and it was very, very nearly the last Grateful Dead concert. Jerry lapsed into a diabetic coma the next day, and it did not look good. We were beyond concerned, we were distraught. Some had faith he'd recover, some didn't, and some decided it was a good time to give faith a try.
I'm not big on throwing the word 'miracle' around lightly, but even those who thought he'd return to the stage never dreamed he would come back greater than ever before, it was some serious Obi Wan Kenobi shit. We knew we were lucky to be there to witness it, his playing was on another level, beyond another level, his playing and singing was perfect, for lack of a better word. And the next six years was The Renaissance of the Grateful Dead, the whole band knew they were lucky too, and they played it for life.
Another coma in '92, but a spectacular return with 1993 which I feel may be some of the greatest shows they ever played. So when he sank again in '94 -'95, I thought he'd just do it again somehow. I was very worried though, something terribly wrong with his hand, he seemed unable to play much of anything. There was no internet, no way to know what was going on. The last show for me was the Knickerbocker Arena, the structure I'd watched them build from my apartment window years before. We blasted out Dead music and smoke and knew if they built it, they would come, and they did.
It wasn't a great show, except in retrospect, at the time I thought it was just another ebb to the tide, but it was a swift undertow. Like the magician he was, I thought he had one more ace up his sleeve, one more lucky rabbit he could pull out of his hat. One more miracle in that black shirtsleeve pocket next to his guitar pick.
It was one of those very few days where you know your life is going to be different going forward than it was before. I never met Jerry. He selected my artwork when I became an illustrator for Grateful Dead Comix in 1994, he had approval over the artists, which meant more to me than just meeting him, but who am I kidding, I'd have loved to have met him. I thought I would someday. But I think that if he could see the legacy he has left, if he could hear the incredible music that his bandmates have gone on to create in his wake, if he could see the new bands and fans that have made the Dead bigger than they ever were before, and if he knew how much all of us still carry him in our hearts as we carry on, I think he might say that this is the miracle.
An older one from Chris O’Leary.. .Aug 9. Jerry Garcia’s passing
Jerry Garcia’s memorial- Polo Fields, San Fran, 1995. Photo: Bob Minkin
“I didn't cry until August 13, 1995. I guess I was in shock and busy with networking with friends and family all over the country. News got around fast that BGP was scrambling to get the GD PA system and a stage assembled in the Polo Fields at Golden Gate Park by Sunday. Permits needed to be obtained and rescheduling of sporting events that day needed to be taken care of. San Francisco worked with BGP and the folks at GD with grace and compassion.
I had an apartment to clean. Several friends were flying into SFO and I needed the floor space to accommodate them. It was like the New Years run was happening. BUSY! I was glad I was so busy actually. I needed to keep my heart inside my chest for a few days.
Upon exiting the tunnel at the Polo Fields I saw the huge banner of Jerry. It became so real. It felt like thousands of family members and friends died all in one swoop. I dropped to my knees and let out a moan which I never heard exit my body before that day. I have never heard that sound since. I finally cried. The release was big.
I marveled at the lifts holding up the PA midway through the crowd. I marveled at the size of the crowd. It was as if a show was going to happen. People were facing the stage. There were the rail riders, the sitters and the spinners. Everyone was in their usual spots doing what they usually did. Except the stage was void of a band. There was a giant banner of Jerry looking down at us and a podium for people to speak from. It was there for them to say their goodbyes to Jerry and us.
We danced all day. We then went home to find our way.”
Photo: Steve Wall, Flickr
Guest Submission: 8/10/19: Bonnie Vogues Popick shares her poignant recollections about the Summer of ‘67:
Bonnie and hubby Art, Shoreline Shakedown 2019.
I was 11 when my brother was drafted.
I freaked out and started going to protests in Central Park NY. The summer of 67 my brother was stationed in Monterey. In January we went to SF.
I was a very late in life baby so my parents were kind of over the parenting thing. They went to see Carol Doda and told me to go to the park with their friend’s kids. Well I did, and I stumbled on the Dead at a Be-In in Golden Gate Park. That summer I stayed at my brothers. He was an officer, married, and lived off base. My father thought it would be good for me to spend the summer here in CA. (Guess he thought I’d embrace the war somehow. Went the opposite way.)
I rode my bike and discovered Monterey Pop and all its magic. I started hanging out with the Hippies. I acquired some hippy clothes, hiding my clothes when I came home. I also spent a lot of time at the base getting to know soldiers— only to have them shipped out to Vietnam and returned in body bags. So I was really looking for something, some peace.
And then I heard the Dead. They weren’t an anti war group. They didn’t sing activists songs. But during a time when we,as a generation were facing Vietnam, civil rights, JFK, MLK, Robert Kennedy, women’s rights, Ohio etc. The Dead offered us a break from it. It was all still happening, but The Dead made us feel better.
There was no turning back; I was a Deadhead now. I had to go back to N.Y. but I was now a full blown activist or "The Man’s" term, Hippie. I saw the Dead everywhere I could in N.Y. We stayed in SF for awhile the following summer , and then I discovered the Haight and all the wonderful people there. Woodstock solidified it and I ran away and returned to S.F. as soon as I could.
I had met my husband at 14. He, too, was a Deadhead so we ran away to California. Made friends with some deadheads. Got a job with Ken Kesey for awhile. Traveled to every state to see them tour. Lived in a van. After the scene in SF deteriorated we went to live on a commune with some band members from a Dead warm-up group. Lived there for many years. Still go up there to visit and help out. Took a break from the Dead after Jerry died but have been refueled the last few years seeing every form of the Dead I can.
I’m not a very good story teller but it’s my best shot at a summary. There are lots of stories in-between but unless I see pictures, I get a bit fuzzy on the detail. :)
