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The one thing that I miss most about traveling the country in search of that certain night of Grateful Dead music is the sense of adventure getting from venue to venue on a tour. One of the last true excursions for me into that great unknown was Summer Tour 1990. That summer I found myself unemployed, hungry for the Grateful Dead, and with some money to burn. What better way to "find yourself" then smack-dab in the middle of Grateful Dead Land?
I left for Kansas right before the fourth of July and, like always, I had a handful of tickets except for the final night in Tinley Park. Let's skip now to RFK...
During the afternoon I stopped at the Smithsonian Museum to do a bit of sightseeing. As I walked through the hallowed halls of that fine institution and out to the street I gazed upon an odd looking fellow from a distance. Overweight, smoking a cigarette, and walking with a wonderful-looking blonde beauty. I will admit I didn't realize it was Garcia himself--I was more interested in the curvy blonde walking next to him. When I got closer, sure enough it snapped...could it be? Is it really? Yes, it was Jerry Garcia, the same guy who played those sharp guitars I always dreamed of owning.
I had shaken Garcia's hand before a Legion of Mary concert some 15 years before in Berkeley, but couldn't muster a sentence out of myself that evening. This would have to change that afternoon.
Nobody recognized him in the place; folks were walking by as if it was just another cat on the street, which in a sense, he was that afternoon. I introduced myself and came right out with, "Jerry, we shook hands at the Keystone some time ago and I always regretted not blurting out a compliment or some kind of statement." He said he remembered (he was obviously embellishing for my enjoyment). He asked where I was from and I said, "Chicago now, but strangely enough I don't have a ticket for the final show this tour and I probably wouldn't go unless I found one." He laughed and said "Hey man, now we just got to convince the other 30,000 without tickets to do the same!" He reassured me not to worry and that he would take care of it if I gave him my name. Luckily I had a few business cards, which were not much use to me seeing that I was now unemployed. I slipped him one, made sure to say thanks for all the good times and to have a good show. Not quite what I had in mind to say to the king of the electric guitar, but it would suffice for the next 15 years.
Skip to later on in the tour...
I returned home from Deer Creek, which I quickly proclaimed to my neighbors was my favorite outdoor venue next to the Greek. Later that evening, the night before the first Tinley gig, I went to the store for some cigarettes and something came over me to buy a few scratch-off lottery tickets. I got back into my car and scratched the first one off to find that I had just won a $1000!!!! I couldn't believe it. I thought I would buy a few overpriced tickets from a scalper for the final show and treat a few of my family. I was in my glory-- I spoke with Garcia and won a grand within the same week!
I got home and I swear, 15 minutes after winning the money I listened to my answering machine and heard yet more good news. The voice was from a secretary at a hotel downtown. She explained that a Mr. Garcia had 4 first row tickets and 4 passes for some kind of event (as she put it) at the will call at the venue for me for the 23rd. I almost started crying because of my newly found luck.
Sure enough, I went to the show the following night, inquired about the tickets and they were there! I could only round up two friends on such short notice, but made a new one when I handed the extra ticket and pass to a kid in the lot.
Backstage, I saw Garcia from a distance and he waved. I couldn't get close enough to him to thank him but I think he knew how I felt by the look of excitement and gratitude in my eyes. I felt as if I had just won the Super Bowl, and if someone would have asked where I was going now that I won, I would have said, "I'm going on Dead Tour!!"
Editor: Mike Morrow is a freelance editor and writer living just north of Chicago. Although his background is in educational and small-time literary publishing, his true love is for the music and the art exemplified by contemporary improv/jam bands.
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