We pounded shots in between riding the river. By the time the sun set we were hammered. I told Mark about the Deer Creek tickets I had, and he wanted to go. So, I offered him a ticket if he would drive. He agreed, and we headed home early enough to sleep off the drunken state we had found ourselves in.
The sun rose and Mark was there bright and early to pick me up. We hit the road and smoked some bowls along the way. We made good time getting to Indianapolis. When we arrived in Deer Creek, we tried to find some place where we could camp out. I only had tickets to the second show. We arrived on the first night, and that is when the mayhem took place. Some fans went over the wall while The Dead was playing Fire on the Mountain. The wall crashed down, and the cops came. The police let their dogs loose on the crowd. They also used tear gas, and beat the mostly peaceful crowd. I admit; the people who crashed the wall, they suck. But the cops used a few troublemakers as their excuse to wreak havoc on an otherwise peaceful crowd. It felt like a war zone out there.
Mark and I split. We found a church parking lot to chill for the night. We got drunk and smoked up with the other people who were parked there for the night. All the camping grounds were filled up, so we just slept in our car.
In the morning, the radio announced that The Dead were cancelling the second show. I was pissed. The car next to us, rolled down their window and we shared a doobie. I found out that they had a ticket to the next show in St. Louis. They didnt want to go, and they traded me the ticket for my ticket to the second show at Deer Creek. I guess they wanted it for a memoir. Mark was pissed because they didnt have two tickets. Mark said he still wanted to go to St. Louis, so we sat there and formulated our next move.
I had a check from my job that I could pick up if we went back to Chicago first. We had a day and a half until we had to be in St. Louis. So we headed back to Chicago. We were really sad and depressed. The car was silent except for the music. When we got home, I picked up my paycheck and cashed it. Mark and I decided to buy some Sammy Smith English Ale with the money. I bought a case of the stuff. It cost me a eighty dollars. Each bottle is like $3.00 a piece. But it is damn good ale. We figured we would sell them for $5 bucks a piece and use the money for the trip home. We headed out for St. Louis that same day.
We arrived in St. Louis very late that night. We had gotten a flyer for a place called The Farm, which was about 25 miles outside of St. Louis. It is where a lot of the Heads stayed whenever The Dead was playing in St. Louis. It had started raining early in the evening, and by the time we arrived at The Farm it was pouring so bad it was hard to see the road. The Farm took our money at the front gate and we pulled around to find some place to park for the night. The Farm was gigantic, it had a lake and there were Deadheads everywhere. We parked by the lake and walked around in the rain for a while. About two hours before we got there, the rain had forced people to find cover on the balcony and under the balcony of the lodge that was in the center of the complex. All the weight from those on the balcony caused it to collapse on those below. I think about three people had broken necks. It was bad. There were people everywhere panhandling to collect some money because most Heads didnt have medical insurance. Mark and I couldnt believe what had been happening. I mean Deer Creek and the riots, and now St. Louis and the farm, what else could go wrong?
We felt bad for everyone and the weather was really bad. Instead of us trying to sell our beer, we ended up just drinking it and sharing it. By the time the sun rose, we had drank all the beer, and made no money. We hung out the morning of the show. Mark couldnt find a ticket for the show, and I needed to find a ride to St. Louis. I made up a sign on a piece of cardboard. As the sun was setting and those who were going to the show, started heading out, some dude stopped and picked me up. We had about a half hour to drive to St. Louis, so we bullshitted the whole way. He asked me if I was selling anything. I told him about the beer idea that went bad. So he offered me four hits of some L.S.D. for the show. I was happy to get some free acid for the show. I didnt hesitate to drop them in my mouth. He gave me six-grilled cheese for trading, or eating, or selling. I had sixth row for the St. Louis show, and I was pumped. The guy I was with headed out to sell some more acid before the show. I headed into the Pavilion. As I was going in I grabbed a flyer that The Dead wanted distributed to their fans. It was a memo that said The Dead was not going to play any more amphitheatres after this tour.
I went into the Pavilion and found my seat in the sixth row. It was one of the best seats I ever had. I practically could touch Jerry, he was that close. After about two songs, I was tripping hard. I couldnt concentrate on the band anymore because it was so crowded in the seating section. I made my way to lawn where there was room to breath. The acid turned out to be phenomenal. I sat there in the lawn and watched the stars. It was a clear night, and I saw so many shooting stars. I still dont know if they were real or if it was just the acid. The show ended and I felt great.
I was so happy I made it to St. Louis. I knew there were two more shows on the tour at Soldier Field. That was always my favorite place to see The Dead play. The parking lot was always rocking, and the atmosphere inside the stadium was even better. I never missed a Soldier Field show since I started touring with The Dead in 93. I had seen my first show there, and my last. I hitched a ride back to The Farm. I found Mark dancing around a fire listening to The Dead on someones radio. He looked drunk and happy. He tried to explain to me about his night, but my mind was wandering because of the acid. I tried to explain to him the show, but I kept getting stuck on the shooting star story. We crashed out for the night, and in the morning we packed up. We heard that people were getting sick from swimming in the lake, so that was our cue to hit the road. We were hung over, stoned, and probably smelled like last months laundry, but we were smiling.
We made it home to Chicago and had two days until the Soldier Field shows. We hooked up with our friends and passed the days away drinking. We made plans with Erik and some other people to take the Metra downtown. We all met up at the train station and headed out. The train was filled with Heads. It was sunny out, and I still can remember those two days in July like they were yesterday. Eriks little sister Courtney started talking to me. We ended up hanging out all day in the parking lot. She kept buying me beers and Nitrous balloons. We ended up separating from everyone. We hung out on the rocks next to Lake Michigan. We started making out and having so much fun, it still makes me smile thinking about it. We finally got really hot and jumped into the lake. We swam for a while, even though swimming is illegal off the rocks. We didnt care because we were in our own little world. It started getting late, so we walked around the parking lot looking for the rest of our friends. We didnt find them, but I did find someone who had some really good liquid L.S.D. I bought two drops and licked it off my palm. We headed into the stadium for the show. My seats were up in the stadium. Courtney had two tickets on the field. So she gave me one of hers, and I miracled someone on the way in. A miracle on The Dead lots was when a person gave a free ticket to someone who didnt have any money. I love that way of life.
We found our seats on the field. Erik was there with a few other people. We danced and tripped the night away to The Dead. We tried to stay together after the show, but didnt. Courtney and I were alone on the train ride home. We bumped into one of her girlfriends and when we arrived in Roselle we got a ride back to Courtney's part of town from her. I crashed in a tent behind Marks house.
The next day was the same. I got wasted and spent the day with my friends back on the lot at Soldier Field. Our friend Bob was finally going to his first Dead show, so we were all happy to show him how great the experience was. Bob was always a selfish person. He liked to con, steal, and get high on the heavy stuff like coke. We figured if he could go to a Dead show, then maybe he would change to a more peaceful lifestyle. Our other friend Joe had his ticket. So we helped Bob try to find Joe all day. We never did. It turns out Joe sold Bobs ticket for a t-shirt. I still think Bobs life would have changed for the better if he had been able to go inside and see the show. The Dead changed my life and my way of thinking.
The show was great, and Courtney joined me again after the show. She ended up with me in the tent behind Marks house that night. Everyone was looking for her, including her brother Erik. Erik was a really good friend of mine, but the attraction I had to his sister was too strong. Finally about three in the morning, our friend Chief stopped by the tent. He didnt know that Courtney was lying next to me naked. We bullshitted for a while, and then I told him I hadnt seen Courtney. He left, and Courtney got dressed and ran home. I fell asleep with a grin from ear to ear. I didnt know what the future held, but I was content with the present.
The Summer Tour was over, and it was time for me to find a job. I had to save up for the Spring Tour of 96. I found a delivery job at Lee Auto Parts. It was cool, and July flew by. On the morning of August 9th, exactly one month from the last show, I awoke to Patty Hayes announcing the death of Jerry Garcia on WCKG 105.9. I jumped up and couldnt believe it. I started calling everyone. Nobody believed me. Finally, I found out that it was true. I had to be to work in the afternoon. I called up my buddy Brendan, and asked him if we could have a party for Jerry. His parents were out of town, and he had a broken leg, so he wasnt working. I found a ride over to his house and started pounding some Moosehead. By the time I was supposed to be to work, I was smashed. I couldnt walk, let alone deliver auto parts.
Hey, I cant come into work today. I slurred out into the phone receiver.
What? My boss replied.
A really good friend of mine died this morning. I just cant come in. I said.
I hung up the phone and mingled with all the people that showed up for the party we were having in Jerrys honor. I sat there for a while, then an idea popped into my head that would change my life forever.
I told my buddy Mark I needed a ride back to my house. I went to my house and picked up a bedsheet. We headed back to Brendans house. I asked for a sewing kit, and headed for the basement. I explained my plan to Mark.
I have heard that there is going to be a vigil being planned for Jerry in Golden Gate Park in San Francisco in two days. I am going to get people to sign this sheet and then I am going to take it to his grave. I explained.
Mark didnt believe me, as a matter of fact, I dont think anyone believed me. Mark did agree to help me set up the sheet. I stitched the word, GRATEFUL in the top of the sheet, and Mark drew, DEAD on the bottom. I started having everyone at the party sign the bedsheet. They didnt believe I was going to make it to San Francisco in two days, but I was determined. People signed that sheet for two days. There were so many messages of goodbyes that it still gives me Goosebumps thinking about it.
It started getting dark out, and the radio said there was a vigil being held at Cricket Hill, which is on the north side of downtown. Brendan had been seeing this girl who lived in Spearfish, South Dakota. She had gone home a few days earlier, and he missed her a lot. After hearing me rant and rave about San Fran all day, he decided he would drive me to Spearfish, to help me on my way. There were so many life-changing decisions being made that day. The kicker was Bob telling me he wanted to go since he felt like he was jipped out of seeing the last show. I told Bob he could come. He went out and made some money, the only way he knew how, and came back and told me he had $900 bucks. He was paying for gas, and would make sure we made it financially. All of sudden, getting to San Fran in two days was actually looking possible. Brendan decided he was moving to South Dakota, so he packed up his things. Bob had a pack, and I had my trusty mountain pack. We loaded up Brendans GMC pickup and headed downtown to Cricket Hill before we hit the road.
Bob and I started telling everyone at Cricket Hill about our plans. Nobody believed us, but they all signed the sheet. People gave us trinkets, flowers, and old ticket stubs. We stood on the hill handing out magic markers for hours. It was finally around midnight when the cops started kicking people out of the vigil. Brendan, Erik, Bob, and me started driving for the highway. Erik had given Bob and me two hand carved walking sticks. Bob and I wrote the dates and the event on the sticks for later reference. I have no idea whatever happened to those sticks. Bob and I were sitting in lawn chairs in the back of the pickup while Brendan drove through Downtown Chicago. Bob spotted a few of our friends who were walking towards Union Station. Bob and I jumped out and had them sign the sheet. Erik jumped out and gave Bob and me a hug. He said he wished he could go, but he couldnt. I think that is why he gave us the walking sticks, so he could be there in spirit. Bob and I piled into the cab with Brendan, and hit the highway northbound.
Bob had brought some coke with him. We were doing lines and eating Mini-thins like they were candy. Mini-thins are the little ephedrine pills that gas stations used to sell. It was like taking legal speed. Bob didnt have his license, so Brendan and I was going to be doing the driving.
Early the next morning before the sun came up, we were driving through Minnesota, and there were two girls hitchhiking on the side of the highway. Brendan stopped and picked them up. That was the cue for us to switch drivers. I took over and we welcomed Freedom and Patience into our family. They were two girls who traveled around with the Rainbow Gatherings. Rainbow Gatherings were a family of traveling hippies. That is a spectacular events. We told them what our mission was, and they were thankful to get a ride. I drove with Freedom in the bitch seat, and Bob in the passenger side. Brendan jumped in the back with Patience and went to sleep. Bob busted out some lines to help keep me awake. I also popped some more Mini-thins. Freedom decided to give me a hair wrap while I drove. By the time the sun came up we were in South Dakota. I drove all the way to Mount Rushmore. Freedom and Patience jumped on the back of two Harleys and disappeared down the mountain. The three of us enjoyed the sight of Mount Rushmore, and then Brendan took the wheel and headed for Spearfish. Bob and I had to be in San Francisco by the next day. So we were really pushing our limits. We arrived at Beckies house and blew some bongs. Brendan and Beckie decided that they wanted to go to San Francisco too. Bob and I were grateful for that. It would have been tough to hitchhike in the short amount of time we had left. I crashed out in the back for a while. Brendan woke me up later that evening and told me to drive.
I took over in Wyoming. I had to drive us through the Colorado Rockies on a two-lane road. It was late, and I needed some food, because the Mini-thins were making me hallucinate. I pulled over on the top of one of the mountains, and cooked up some grilled cheese. I woke everyone up, made them eat, and then let them go back to sleep. I looked out over the mountain tops of the Rockies. The snow covered them and it was really cold. But it was such a magnificent sight. Unbelievable really, I hope someday I can get back there. I would have had trouble staying awake, but every radio station was playing some sort of dedication show to Jerry. I had the Grateful Dead playing all the way through the mountains. Brendan took over when the sun came up. Bob and I crashed again in the back. When we woke up, Brendan was pulling into Golden Gate Park.
The sun was shining, and it was a little after 11 A.M. We grabbed our packs and all the stuff we had collected from everyone in Chicago. We laid the sheet out on the ground in the park. There were a lot Heads that showed up for the vigil. People asked us about the sheet with all the signatures. It is such a great story to tell. Bob and I scored some acid. It was a pyramid with one eyeball in the center, and wings were coming out of the pyramid. Each picture took up four hits. It was the best acid I have ever taken. The day went on with a really good vibe. Bob and I decided it was time to give the sheet to Jerrys wife. The band and Jerrys family were accepting gifts from the crowd all day. They stood on the bleachers in Golden Gate Park and collected so much stuff from the crowd.
Bob and I made our way up to the bleachers. We had carried this sheet and all the trinkets this far, so we might as well finish what we set out to do.
You ready for this, bro? Bob asked me.
Bob, I have seen a lot of shows, and experienced a lot of good things. You got screwed out of seeing The Dead play. You take this up there, I am just going to stand here and watch. I replied.
We should do it together? Bob questioned.
No, man! You need to do this. I replied.
Bob shook his head in agreement and walked up to Jerrys wife. I stepped back into the crowd and watched. Bob gave her the sheet that was filled with all the trinkets we had collected. She took it from him and looked at some of the signatures and goodbyes. She pulled it close to her chest and thanked him. I dont know what was said, but when Bob turned around to look for me, he couldnt see me. I am glad, because I was crying like a little schoolgirl. It was the most emotional experience I ever had. I am sure the acid didnt help, but I will never forget how I felt that day. Bob had experienced what we all wanted him too. He missed his chance at Soldier Field, but this was his redemption. I disappeared into the crowd for a couple of hours. When I returned, Bob, Brendan, and Beckie had all wondered what happened to me. I told them I needed to wander around a little bit.
Bob told me what happened and how he felt. I was happy that I came up with this whole plan. Brendan and Beckie were going to head back to South Dakota. Bob had a $100 bucks left. He gave them $50, and he kept $50. Near the end of the vigil, the band gathered in the center of the field with their bongo drums. The crowd all grabbed their drums, and we all sang Buddy Hollys Not Fade Away in unison. It was great. No security, just the band and their fans.
The cops came in around sunset. They started getting mean and forcing people to move on. It was a repeat of how the last tour was. Bob and I went back to the truck with Brendan and Beckie. We grabbed our packs and walking sticks. We hugged them goodbye, and watched them drive off. Bob and I walked back through the park.
So, what do you feel like doing? Bob asked.
I dont know, lets get out of this park before the cops start busting heads. I said.
Bob and I walked through the field as the cops rode in on horseback with bullhorns. Bob and I started looking for a ride. We had no idea where we were going, but we knew we had to leave Golden Gate. Everyone had signs on their buses, or cars with their destination. Most of them were headed north. So we walked out of the park and into San Francisco. We wandered through the park for awhile, and we had no idea where were headed. The acid had made us very direction deficient.
Hey, lets go to Tijuana for a shot an a beer. I said.
How we going to get there? Bob asked.
Lets find the nearest highway south, and hitchhike. I said.
Bob agreed. We started walking down 19th street, I think. We made it to the overpass by Cow Palace and set our packs down. Cow Palace; remember that Bob. Cow Palace...It still makes me laugh. We had been tripping all day, and our feet were hurting from all the walking. The sun was setting, and a truck pulled up with a chicken coup on the back. The driver was a Head.
Where you guys going? He asked.
South, as far as possible. I replied.
Jump in the back. We are going to San Jose. He replied.
Bob and I jumped in the back and headed as far as they would take us. The crazy thing is; they had to lock us into this metal cage in the back. Bob and I laughed because for all we knew we were going to Pig's Feed by the end of the night. We jumped out and walked some more. We were tired and didnt feel like hitching anymore that night, so we climbed into the drainage ditch next to highway and relaxed. The cars raced by our heads all night. I watched the moon go from one end of the sky to the other. The visuals were spectacular. I finally fell asleep. Traffic got pretty heavy in the morning, and the semi-trucks woke me up. I looked at Bob still sleeping, and then realized there were a mound of ants crawling all over my pack. I woke up Bob, and emptied my pack. The ants had found the butter we had. They were everywhere. I emptied my whole pack on the side of the highway. I finally got all the ants out of the pack, while Bob tried to grab us another ride.
We made it as far as Santa Monica. Bob was getting tired of traveling like we were, so he decided to find us a hotel. I knew we didnt have any money for a hotel, but Bob said he would take care of it. We ended up at the Holiday Inn.
Bob had some checkbook he had gotten before he left Chicago. He wrote out a check for the room. Then he ordered pizza, and a limousine. I kept telling him he was crazy, but he already knew that. We went to the pier in Santa Monica that night. When we got back to the hotel, the limo driver didnt want to accept a check from Bob. I dont blame him one bit.
We crashed out, and the phone rang early the next morning. It was the front desk. The girl liked Bob, I guess, because she tipped him off about the limo driver calling the hotel asking for Bob's room. All the checks had bounced. Bob told me what was going on, and I couldnt believe he was using checks that were not his. I guess The Dead experience didnt change him at all. We packed up and got a ride from the hotels van to the San Jose Airport. When we pulled up at the airport, a bunch of cop cars chased us, and surrounded the van. The cops shuffled us out. They started searching our stuff. The limo driver was there. It was chaos. Plus, I still had ten hits of L.S.D. in my pack. If the cops would have found that, I was screwed. Bob talked his way out of it, how? I still dont know. He promised the limo driver he would send him the money after we got home to Chicago. Bob was good with his tongue. The cops let us go, and we ended up at the Grey hound station.
I called home and had my mom wired me some money. We bought two tickets for Chicago. I figured it was time to get out of Cali. We ended up going back through San Francisco to pick up more passengers. A lot Heads got on there. There were two guys from Cincinnati who told us about what happened the past two days. The Haight and Ashbury District had become real shady. We had fun all the way home to Chicago. We exchanged numbers with our newfound friends. One of the guys names was Donovan. I cant remember the other guys name. Bob and I never made it to Tijuana, but we did make it to Jerrys vigil.
I dont know what Bob and Erik are up to now. Mark lives in Portland. I think Brendan lives in Phoenix. I dont know about Beckie. I bumped into Freedom at a Phish show in Champaign-Urbana a year later. She was still traveling the country. We did go to Cincinnati on our way to Spring Break the following year, and hooked up with our new friends. We pounded some brews and cleared some bongs, and I haven't seen them since. The last I heard one of them had gotten married and had a kid. Doing the life thing I guess; something I should have done a long time ago.
I still have a copy of the set lists from The Deads last tour. Fans signed the papers. We gave the originals to Jerrys wife with the other trinkets. I am going to give them to you to see, just how amazing the whole thing was. I still say that a lot of love left the world when Jerry died. R.I.P. Jerry, I love you man.
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