Remembering Jerry: Part Two
First Appeared in The Music Box, October 1995, Volume 2, #9
Dear Music Box:
I got your latest issue through Ken Hays at Terrapin Tapes. I think it's an excellent little newsletter. Anyway, I too have been having a tough time dealing with Jerry's death. He meant more to me than anybody else I have ever known, and I never even got the chance to meet him in person!
It's amazing how powerful that man was through his music. Just the slightest move, grin, knee-bend, or wave of his hand on the stage would give me chills. He just made me feel SO good!
We as Deadheads are so lucky to have tapes of his music to keep the energy alive. However, nothing can be compared to some of the live concert experiences that we all witnessed. There was some kind of indescribable magic about "being there" at a show where anything could happen. Garcia could settle for a routine Don't Ease Me In to close the first set, or he could reach into his bag of goodies and belt out a Big Railroad Blues like he did for me this summer in Michigan at the last show I saw. (Since becoming a Deadhead, I had always wanted to hear that tune.)
Listening to shows on tape can still be absolutely wonderful and beautiful experiences, but you already know what they are going to play next — it takes away from the "anything can happen" feeling that I got at every show I went to.
Anyway, there is really a good passage written by the Rainbow Family about him. It totally struck home with how I felt about him and what he meant to me. You should try to get a copy of this and publish it in your next issue.
Editor's Note: Well said, Jim. I miss everything you mentioned and more. I also miss all those wonderful people I may never have the opportunity to meet at a show. The Grateful Dead always broke down those barriers and allowed the vision of "strangers stopping strangers just to shake their hand" to become a reality.
Copyright © 1995 The Music Box