Music Art. Song Stories.

Music Art. Song Stories.

Dan Berger Editor. Curator. Deadhead.

All profits to support independent artists and musicians.

Dan Berger

Music Art. Song Stories.

A Tribute to the Grateful Dead: Artwork and Stories from Around the World Photography: Leigh Aschof and Barrett VonGentz Design: Randle Design

www.thegratefulproject.org

Special thanks to my wife Shelley and our sons Jesse and Willie for their love and support, to The Grateful Dead for the inspiration that moved me brightly, and to all Deadheads everywhere.

“If it wasn’t for the Dead, I wouldn’t believe in anything.

As it is, I believe in everything.”

Starle

A Band Beyond Description Much has been written about The Grateful Dead, yet words alone cannot convey the impact the band’s music has had on so many people’s lives. Nothing can capture the energy of their live shows or explain the collective consciousness, the life-changing moments, the transportation and the transformation, and of course, the sheer joy of the experience.

Foreward

A few writers, while still falling short, have tried brilliantly. After his irst show, eminent mythologist Joseph Campbell said, “The Deadheads are doing the dance of life and this I would say, is the answer to the atomic bomb.” Campbell then went on to describe the sight of 8,000 Deadheads dancing, twirling, singing and shouting as follows: This is more than music…. This is a wonderful fervent loss of self in the larger self of a homogeneous community. This is what it is all about… It doesn’t matter what the name of God is, or whether it’s a rock group or a clergy.

It’s somehow hitting that chord of realization of the unity of God in you all, that’s just a terriic thing and it just blows the rest away.”

Christopher Chase, PhD and Professor at Seinan Gakuin University in Japan remembers: Now, as I get older, I ind that The Grateful Dead continue to inspire me…I still listen to them while a lot of other music no longer maintains my interest. Above all, I hold memories of Dead shows as unique and profound experiences. Looking back, it seems as if something bordering on the magical happened there.

I can conirm something magical happened to me there. It was during “Bird Song” at the Oakland Coliseum on February 20, 1991. I closed my eyes and left my body (no drugs involved). I felt that I was no longer listening to the music but that I had become the music. In

researching this project, I came across many people who described similar moments as follows; “I inally got it,” “I’ve never been the same since,” and “It was life-changing.”

Hallucinogens are only a part of the story.

Plenty of people “got it” without getting high.

The Greatest Story Ever Told Grateful Dead songs tell stories. As Bob Weir says in the video Move Me Brightly: We’re storytellers. We do it with our ingers.

We do it with our voices. But we are all story tellers. And that story is the face of the song.

Once that story is being told, once those bells are being rung – we’re making history with every note. And that’s what a musician does.

That’s was a musician lives for.

As with most things Dead, the relationship between storyteller and listener isn’t hard wired. Sometimes the songs that we sing are just songs of our own. Those song stories – they resonate in our lives. They can rise to a mythical level. We adopt them, adapt them, and mold them to make them our own, giving them personal meaning. Then we tell those stories to others; we always tell them to others.

An oral and aural history.

Over the years, it has been song stories from other Deadheads that inspired The Grateful Project and helped to create this book. My brother-in-law’s account of the impact Black Peter had on him after his father’s near fatal stroke was the genesis. I selected the other stories and quotes in this book when I felt similarly moved. In the process, brand new stories emerged from the generosity of the artists and contributors such as Alyssa Krane who surprised me with her painting “Candyman” free of charge. And Guy Messenger who donated his late mother’s original pen and ink drawing for “They Love Each Other.”

Grateful Dead stories have atomic power – they create energy, emotions, kindness, generosity, and synchronicity. That’s what this book is all about. To the stories, we’ve added a visual component –interpretive artwork.

Whether the artwork was inspired directly by the song or whether the creation of the art relects the song so brilliantly, you can’t help but feel the power.

Art has always been important to the members of the band and from the start, it has been an instrumental part of the Grateful dead experience.

Jerry Garcia studied at the San Francisco Art Institute. Painting and drawing continued to be his passion throughout his life. He once said he liked creating art more than creating music.

Phil Lesh sees a spiritual connection: Painting and drawing, music, poetry, drama, literature, dance – all have the capability of awakening the higher faculties of the soul. To hear great music or see great art is a wonderful thing, but to create it can truly transform and heal. (1997) Creativity really is the essence of The Grateful Dead. Artistic expressions of all types were born from the improvisational music. Imagery was always a big part of the mix. Psychedelic art such as the works of Stanley Mouse, Alton Kelley and others. Album covers, concert photos, independent artists in the parking lot before, during, and after shows, highly decorated mail-order ticket request envelopes, even the hard tickets themselves. Multicolor magic woke up the night, whether during LSD trips, the band’s lighting and graphic shows, or the tie-dyed, decked out Deadheads themselves.

Before the music started at an RFK stadium show in the late 1980’s, a Deadhead staked out a land claim about 75 feet in front of the stage, sat down, and laid out a large sketch pad. This

was prime real estate at a Dead concert but instinctively, a group of female fans circled the artist, protecting him from the rest of the crowd, providing him with the space to create his art as inspired by the music.

That is what I have tried to do with this book – create a protected space for artwork inspired by the songs and stories. Some pieces were commissioned for a speciic song, others were existing treasures that happened to it perfectly from another time’s forgotten space. One of those is a Jerry Garcia original. A few others are from names you may or may not recognize.

All of the rest are by independent artists. Earlier, I mentioned that I was surprised by the acts of kindness from the contributing artists. But why should I have been surprised? It was the kindness that sprang from The Grateful Dead’s impact on their lives and further deepened my commitment to bring this project to life.

The Grateful Dead did not set out to lead a spiritual revolution or change the world. I recall that Ram Dass once called Jerry Garcia a bodhisattva. Jerry’s reaction? “Ram Dass is very kind.” Yet, Jerry also said, “There’s no way to put that idea ‘save the world’ into music, you can only be that idea. (Jerry Garcia, Rolling Stone, 1995, p58). Thank God, the Grateful Dead will forever be that idea.

So into this wonder world we go. I hope you ind that this book adds a new dimension to your understanding and appreciation of The Grateful Dead. Music Art. Song Stories. Not a new medium. Just a very old one looked at in a diferent way. The storyteller’s job is “to shed light and not to master.”

“One more day I ind myself alive tomorrow maybe go beneath the ground.”

Black Peter

The music of the Grateful Dead holds a very special place in the hearts of Deadheads. We all love the instrumental aspects of the long, improvised jams, but the lyrics often hold deep meaning as well. At shows, certain lines in songs always result in loud roars of approval from the crowd. These catch-phrase lines seem to have universal appeal.

But sometimes Dead songs resonate with Deadheads on a much more personal level.

When I was in high school, my father had a massive stroke that all but killed him. I was 17 years old at the time and wasn’t always getting along with my father, which isn’t all that unusual for a kid that age. I was immediately forced to see things diferently and mature more rapidly.

My dad’s road to recovery was long and hard, but he eventually improved to the point that he could walk again and communicate with us.

My father was very career-oriented, to a fault.

He was a senior partner in a highly successful law irm, and that was his identity. The stroke ended all of that. He never practiced law again.

During his lengthy hospitalization and rehab, I was at the height of my Grateful Dead touring and overall obsession with the band’s music.

My father’s health rightfully became a priority at that time, and I saw fewer shows for a while— but the Dead’s music always remained the soundtrack to my life.

While watching my father conined to a hospital bed, the music and lyrics to the song “Black Peter” took on very personal meaning. The song struck a chord with me because each day I would witness my father experience the same things as the character in Garcia’s soulful song.

The fact that my father’s irst name was Peter just drove the signiicance home even more.

As a prominent attorney, my father was highly regarded in our town and had many friends.

My family and I practically lived at the hospital during the early days of his illness, so we were there to see numerous friends ile in while my dad was going through his personal Hell. We were taking things one day at a time, and we really didn’t know what the future held for him —or what to tell his visitors about his recovery (One more day I ind myself alive, tomorrow maybe go beneath the ground).

Some of his visitors were truly longtime, dear friends with genuine concern. We always welcomed those people and appreciated their support. Their presence would elicit a glimpse of recognition in my dad’s eyes and a licker of a smile (Just wanna have a little peace to die, and a friend or two I love at hand). But other visitors were hangnail acquaintances at best, and we hadn’t really spent time with them…or even seen or heard from them in years. “Get well” cards arrived with increasing regularity, including several from people on holiday vacations. My father’s law partner was of sailing around the world, and we would hear from him when he was in port and sent mail (Say the weather down here so ine).

My dad was in the hospital for weeks, and then was bedridden for months at a rehabilitation facility. A monotonous routine emerged as he struggled for survival and went through the humiliation of being incapacitated in front of people he had known professionally throughout his career (Sun going up and then the sun going down, shine through my window, and my friends they come around).

As you might be able to detect from my writing, I was at a pretty cynical age back then, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that some of these visitors were there for the wrong reasons. I saw them as merely keeping up with the town gossip so they could tell their friends they had

paid a visit to “poor Pete” and saw for themselves what a horrible state he was in. (Take a look at poor Peter, he’s lying in pain, now let’s go run and see). Was my opinion and judgment of these “friends” overly harsh? Perhaps, but I deinitely didn’t think so at the time.

I’ve always considered the overall tone of Grateful Dead music as being somewhat cynical or even jaded, but ultimately remaining optimistic that the human spirit will persevere and ultimately prevail. The silver lining to my family’s tragedy was that my father did live. In fact, he lived for nearly three more decades, and we grew to love him more than ever. Although he was conined to a wheelchair during his inal few years, he did learn to walk again.

The fact that he was able to accomplish this is remarkable in itself, because one of his legs was almost completely paralyzed. A leg brace allowed him to gain the support he needed to walk, albeit with a pronounced limp. A less determined person would have given up, but my dad was a ighter. He looked death in the eye but had a strong will to survive and live—much like the Garcia/Hunter character in “Black Peter.”

My family got to see another side of my father after his stroke. He had a gentle, funny side that emerged more than it ever had during his stressful life as a lawyer. Of course he had his bad days, but I grew to know and admire him on a whole new level. The crazy game of life had dealt him a new hand, and he did the best he could under the circumstances.

The lyrics to “Black Peter” took on an entirely new meaning to me during those uncertain, dark days. I always loved the song, and I continue to love it to this day. But since my father’s stroke, I’ve never been able to listen to it the same way.

Phillip Samuelson

“There’s some satisfaction in the San Francisco rain.

No matter what comes down the Mission always looks the same.”

Mission in the Rain

“Mission is one of the most poignant expressions of the deep sadness and acceptance (and enduring what-it-is-ness) that we all had to make peace with as the great wave of the Big Dreams receded back across the cobblestones into the sea. The mid-seventies weren’t quite what we imagined them to be a decade earlier... and Mission in the Rain does indeed, as noted above, take us right onto those streets, lets us all walk alone, look around, feel the rain, and ponder how this is what it came to be. So rich, so nourishing, so airming in a way, in accepting the loss.”

Canoncito

“I decided during El Paso to see where it would take me.

A long strange trip indeed... and it continues...” dr mikie 12/31/71 Winterland

“Music would play and Felina would whirl.”

El Paso

It’s tight, complicated, communicative, and it builds up a kind of tension as it starts cycling through the little waltz-time section that is almost unbearable until Weir explodes in these fat chords, with Jerry laying iligrees around him, and Brent as inspired as he ever was -- and it’s all done in a couple of minutes, bam. What do the Grateful Dead “do”?

Here it is, in ive minutes. 10/14/1980 Steve Silberman

“No one’s noticed, but the band’s all packed and gone. Was it ever here at all?”

The Music Never Stopped

“Where have all the people gone, my honey?

Where have all the people gone today?”

Morning Dew

“I think is was ’81… Morning Dew, Dark Star. I died there Spin Dancer

“Bufalo War Memorial 9/26/81… Morning Dew…in tears, couldn’t stop.”

Cschimmel

“… a stellar Morning Dew at The Spectrum the day before Easter.. where, totally straight, my soul literally lew overhead and danced and my God was there.”

Lady-Like-a-Dove

“It was later than I thought when I irst believed you.”

Ship of Fools

I was pressed elbow to elbow and thought I was sufocating from the heat. I closed my eyes and heard, very distinctly, “come on up here where it’s cool!”

Suddenly I was OBE in a sort of 3 dimensional darkness, surrounded (I felt) by many loving, happy, laughing people. I knew inside that at that moment I could ask anything at all and get an answer. Did I ask about life, universe, and everything? Well, sort of. I asked a wholly nonsensical question that made perfect sense to me at the time and wise heads pondered. I got my answer ... And suddenly I realized I’d squandered my opportunity!

Instantly I was back in Cape Cod and the band was playing Ship of Fools, and oh my did I ever feel the fool!

I spent a lot of time trying to ind that magical space again until I realized I’d never left it. But something happened to me that night, something special, and it took a long time to piece it together.

I realized that on that night in Cape Cod did I become a member of the tribe, and had always been since that night. It was me who forgot in those fallow years after 1995; but I was then and am still as dead as I can be. And loving it!

That Treb Guy

“Who can stop what must arrive now? Something new is waiting to be born....

This one line, and Crazy Fingers in general, helped keep me one step ahead of despair many a lonely night while I waited, seemingly endlessly, for that something new to be born.”

Lydia2667

“Midnight on a carousel ride reaching for the gold ring down inside. Never could reach. It just slips away but I try.”

Crazy Fingers

These are the horns of the dilemma What truth this proof against all lies?

The Victim or the Crime

I went to 28 shows between 1981 and 1991 or so – probably the strangest experience I had was at Cal Expo around 1987. I was with my bandmate from a punk rock band called “The Potato Heads” (he was the bass player, I was the guitar player). An plane lew over the gig with an advertising banner reading something like “Victim? Crime? Call 1-801-blah blah”. Weird enough sure, since I think they did Victim or the Crime.....but anyway at one point a giant inlatable Potato Head came out of the sky and landed in the crowd. I have no idea how that happened but I received independent veriication. Tons of other weird experiences but that one sticks out. icirider

“Show me all that you know. I’ll show you, snow and rain.”

Santana was opening for the Dead. Two concerts in the middle of the blazing hot Las Vegas summer, held at the UNLV football stadium, during which time a wind storm blew dust all over everyone - making the lives of those who wore contact lenses a living hell!

We were up near the front towards the left of center - right where both Carlos Santana and Jerry played - we were close enough to watch their ingers working the strings. Towards the end of the irst set a young lady next to me passed out and collapsed on the ground. She wasn’t breathing. Her boyfriend was horribly scared. Fortunately there was a dude standing right there who was a veterinarian, he turned her on her side and hit her back and got her to breathe. But she was still unconscious and her face was a bright blue - totally freaky! I pulled my poncho vest of and held it above her to give her shade while several people crouched down around her to swathe her face in t-shirts dipped in cold water. The vet ran to get help.

As we were waiting for the medics to show up, Garcia came to the front of the stage and announced that their old friend Carlos Santana was going to come onstage and play with them. And so he did. They started playing “Bird Song”. Jerry came over and looked down on us - we were very visible to him. He played his guitar and sang into the mic and looked right directly at the unconscious girl’s boyfriend and me holding my poncho above her. He sang: “Don’t cry now, don’t you cry, don’t you cry any more...

“Sleep in the stars, don’t you cry, dry your eyes on the wind...

“La la la laaaaaaa....”

And man, that is exactly what I started to do!

I started to just cry my frikkin eyes out! Jerry was being soooo compassionate and soooo concerned about what was happening there to us. I could feel the warmth coming from him as he sang to us to be cool, relax, wait, and it’ll all be okay...

A few minutes later the medics showed up, pushing their way through the crowd with a stretcher. They got the girl on it and she and her boyfriend disappeared forever from my life (I never knew their names or who they were). At that point the song ended, and so did the irst set. I sat down and looked at the little puddle of white puke, and I told my friends that I had to go spend some alone-time by myself. I arranged to meet up with them later.

I ended up way up in the bleachers of the stadium - where it wasn’t so crowded. I came across a group of about a dozen girls all dressed in hippie clothing and sitting in a circle chanting a beautiful chant together. I knew this was where I needed to be. So I sat near them, tucked my head into my knees and let it all come out. I cried very hard for about 3 or 4 minutes, just letting go of all that tension.

Then the Dead came back out for the second set, and started tuning up their instruments.

The girls quit chanting. I wiped of my face and stood up. And then, one by one, those chanting girls came over to me and each one gave me a huge and beautiful hug - no words - no trips. They each just hugged me and gave me good sweet beautiful juice energy. And then went back to dance for the second set.

And I said to myself: “This is why I come to these shows...”

Saukkomies

“All I know she sang a little while and then lew on” Birdsong

“Just don’t tell them that you know me.”

Sugaree

31 years ago today was my 19th birthday and we had tickets to the Springifeld show. I had been listening to the Dead for several years and had seen a couple ‘76 shows which I thoroughly enjoyed but this show was truly life changing. It was a general admission show so we checked into a hotel at noon and decided to go stand in line at 2:00 to get close to the stage. Torrential downpour all afternoon. The people in line were drenched. I was standing there questioning my sanity thinking I was becoming a total loser wasting my life away. They inally opened the doors around 6:30 and we were able to sit on the loor about 10 feet from the stage. Everyone down front was soaked.

The lights went out and the band came on, everyone stood and after a minute or two of tuning, they broke into Sugaree. Jerry was laughing, smiling and dancing around. Everyone around me forgot they were drenched and just starting dancing, smiling and singing with Jerry. Then Jerry looked right at me and broke into this huge grin and sang: “You know in spite of all you gained you still had to stand out in the poouuurrrring rain”. I lost it. I never questioned my sanity again and I’ve been on tour ever since.

CosmicChas

“Lord, you can see that it’s true.”

They Love Each Other

It wasn’t her irst show and it wasn’t mine. Her irst show was Watkins Glen ‘73 and mine Detroit ‘76. It was for both of us our second show and unbeknownst to either of us, it was our irst and only Grateful Dead show “together”.

I stopped going in the early 80’s and she did not see another show until the early 90’s. We were not destined to meet until 31 years later in May ‘08.

So we irst crossed paths at Cornell on May 8, 1977 and took diferent life paths from there. In spite of our vast common interests which could have easily put us in the same place at the same time, it never happened again until the magic of internet dating brought us together 31 years later. We are just two dead heads / Yankee fans / avid golfers / best friends / lovers and soulmates.

Without harping on what happened musically and cosmically at the show, I do remember seeing one girl on a guy’s shoulder as I “mazed” myself through the crowd during Scarlett Begonias. It turns out that girl was my soulmate and we were destined to be together - forever and ever and always, albeit not until 32 years later.

And now we are heading back to Cornell to see Bobby and Phil again this Sunday, on Valentine’s Day (2010), on that magic stage which changed our lives 32 years later.

I wonder how many of us in the crowd Sunday will have been there on May 8, 1977 at that special place...at that special time... ...and the postscript was even played at the show...They Love Each Other...forever and ever and always...

“Hand me my old guitar Pass the whisky round...”

Candyman

On a more positive note, one of the most emotional moments in the Dead’s history can be heard during “Candyman” on this audience recording from 1986.* This was the irst show after Jerry came out his coma, and when he sings “hand me my old guitar, pass the whisky round...” there’s just a roaring tsunami of approval from the audience - has anyone ever been loved so deeply by so many people in one place at one time? I’m amazed he was able to inish the song.

Matthew Watkins

*see artist notes and credits

“When I put (the music) on, my ifteen month old baby girl instantly started twirling to ‘Rain and Snow’. I just had to get up and twirl with her!!!”

Gary Locker

“I’m goin where those chilly winds don’t blow” Cold Rain and Snow

“If you get confused, listen to the music play.”

Franklin’s Tower

When I was growing up, I got my irst stereo, joined record clubs that introduced me to groups like Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Steppenwolf etc. They were great but no emotional connection. My neighbor Victor used to play amazing music and our moms were good friends. His sister and I hung out and we used to hang out our windows sharing what music we found at the moment.

One day I was ordered by my mom to clean my room or the wrath of God was coming down at me very quickly. As I cleaned, I heard the wonderful sounds coming from Victor’s window. Going over I heard Franklin’s Tower. I stopped in my tracks and was just blown away. I asked him to make me a copy, which he did. Next morning it was in the plastic tape case in my mail box. I played it so much that the reel to reel tape did not last two weeks. When I got my allowance I bought the LP. The album was the best thing I ever heard or enjoyed. The Album was Blues for Allah.

I inally got to go to a live show and see them live. It was more than anything I expected. January 9th 1979 I inally came home and saw the Dead. It was like my eyes and soul did it before and it was natural. Danced my butt of that night and enjoyed every minute. Then I heard Box of Rain (still my favorite Dead song). When I got home I shared with Victor and his sister Joanne every minute of the fantastic night and how special it was. Victor got my message at once. I still think of Victor every time I hear Franklin’s Tower.

He died in 2001. He was one of the pilots who was killed – his plane was the second one that hit the towers. I still talk to Joanne when I see her and we still listen to the Dead. Somewhere he is dancing on the stars and still listening to music in his soul. RIP Victor.

The last note of Phil’s roll into The Other One on 10/27/79 simply overwhelmed the cosmos.

It seemed to go and on - universes were born, lourished, and died before that note failed.

Every time I listen to the show I can still hear vestiges of that note, and what it caused.

Lasker

The bus came by and I got on That’s when it all began There was cowboy Neal At the wheel Of a bus to never-ever land The Other One

“Shall we go, you and I while we can...?”

Dark Star

Capitol Theatre, Port Chester, NY June 24, 1970.

This Dark Star suite is something quite above and beyond your standard wonderful Dark Star. And this tape allows you to hear every pin drop, every lash pot go of (you’ll lose count), every ripple of deeply psychedelic energy ill the entire Cap Theatre to the rafters, washing the entire audience away into other dimensions.

After the irst verse, as the Space expands, there’s a guy in the audience sitting directly behind the right side microphone (they were spread 25-30 feet across the front of the balcony) who quietly mutters “Oh my GOD.” It’s a convergence of the gripping magic of the music, and the fact that it is being caught on tape, and that it survived for us to hear it. It becomes an instant preservation of what is was to be a guy at a psychedelic rock show in 1970. That guy’s comment drills home that certain something that we all ponder over when we think about what it was like to see the band back then, head fully fed, and locked in the embrace of the Grateful Dead. At this moment it is no wonder that people would travel the country, following this band for years. It’s also with the comments of this guy, who seems to be struggling to keep a grip on his connection to the physical world that the holy satori moment has fully locked in.

“Once in a while you get shown the light, in the strangest of places if you look at it right.”

Scarlett Begonias

When did I get on the bus? I would seriously have to say it was when I was 13 at the time. I remember it quite clearly. It was a beautiful spring day and I had the radio on, when I heard the irst Grateful Dead song ever to fall on my ears. Scarlet Begonias it was, and from then on I was hooked.

J.Deadhead

“Almost ablaze still you don’t feel the heat.”

Fire on the Mountain

Saw this show. I had to leave just as they started Fire on the Mountain. When I got outside ash was falling all over everything. I laughed in amazement all the way home msngingr

I was 15, my big brother saw his irst show 2.5 years earlier at the Portland Paramount in ‘77 and convinced me to throw away my Styx 8 tracks and plug into bootleg cassettes of these hippies.

After the show, as noted above, it was “snowing” ash as Mt St. Helens erupted DURING Fire on the mountain.

It was then I knew these guys were on to something…

Peter from Portland

“There’s a dragon with matches that’s loose on the town.”

Fire on the Mountain

Back in 1977, my girlfriend (now wife), myself, and two buddies decided to road trip from Nebraska to the old Winterland for the New Year’s Eve run of shows in San Francisco. I toted along with us a clay sculpture that I had made the prior year. It was a one and 1/2 foot (in circumference) dragon that was biting/ consuming its own tail. I had ‘scraitto’ (carved designs) into the entire beast’s ‘hide’ and then it was ired and stained. It was the biggest piece of clay sculpture that I have ever made.

And I thought it would be fun to give it to the band on New Year’s.

So away we go, get to the venue and secured tickets for the run (12/27-29-30-31-77). The shows were unbefuckinliveable and Winterland was such a great hall. But on the 31st, we were sitting on the sidewalk waiting for the doors to open, talking and watching the circus, ready to hurry and get in for the ‘activities’.

I thought “I better try to unload the dragon aka ‘oroboros’ now, it’s heavy and I don’t want to try to talk my way through the front gate with it.” I spied a door that said ‘Backstage’ and began knocking on the door. No answer. The line of people on the side walk started getting up and moving toward the entrance. Banged even harder thinking “I’ve got to get this dragon in there so I can go in the front and join in before the show”, and as I pounded harder, the door yanks open so hard that it yanks me into the doorway. This doorway is immediately illed with a gigantic black man in a red event t-shirt, who puts his hand on my chest and leans forward and bellows “WHAT DO YOU WANT?” Startled, I held out the dragon with both hands and stuttered “to give this to the band”. The giant took it in his immense hand and his face curls into a grin as he held it closer to inspect it and I watched my dragon shrink to the size of a key

chain. He exclaimed “Wow, what is this, I’d like one” and I explained “it’s an oroboros and that is the only one there is.” He grinned and said “Cool, who do you want me to give it to?” and I said “to Garcia, give it to Jerry Garcia.” The giant disappeared as quickly as he appeared and the door slammed shut like the irst time Dorothy tried to get into the Emerald City in the Wizard of Oz. So, I happily gain entrance to the show and needless to say, it was something, ‘freak volleyball’ followed by the movies, Grahams’ copy of Bradbury’s ‘Illustrated Man’ followed by a 16 mm Beatles “Magical Mystery Tour”.

The colorful/wonderful crowd, ‘rainbow’ Rose with an eyedropper of liquid party favor “just one dollar per drop. On your tongue or for the adventurous, a drop in your eye”. Oh, and when each person walked through the entrance the staf handed us a piece of paper that had a message about a “surprise at midnight” (sent that into LL and it was posted a couple years ago). When you entered Winterland, you could go into the big ‘hall’ surrounded on all sides by an elevated balcony, (with theater seats).

You could also go into a bar, which played some black and white videos on a ‘big screen’ taken from pro shots of the Winterland stage when Hendrix or Airplane or etc. played. Very entertaining on many levels. Hey, the New Riders of the Purple Sage are starting, got to get in there, the sound is loud and they are rocking the house.

Anticipation was high and the Dead came out for the irst set. Our party favors are now starting to engage..., things began to sparkle, and the old Winterland venue takes notice, and her walls start to sweat and, then to sway with the strains of familiar music as the Dead coax this old hall to dance with us all.

This is such a delight, I know the vista cruiser is engaged and then I notice when the house lights went down, and the stage lights went dark in between songs. I saw it.

On top of a monitor, in-between Billy and Mickey, there was a lame, it was a white candle sitting in front of a dragon consuming its tail. It was oroboros, ON STAGE WITH THE DEAD! I watched as Jerry walked over and lit a cigarette of the candle.

They took a break and the surprise for the second half was Uncle BoBo (as Bobby liked to call Graham) dressed up as Uncle Sam on a motorcycle sliding down on a cable suspended high from the back of the hall to the stage. They put spotlights on him as he approached the stage and it was hilarious. Because as Graham came to the stage, the weight of the bike and BoBo was too much and the stage hands had to rush out and drag him onstage and then to the explosion of Sugar Mag, complete with dropping balloons and girl and boy babies New Year’s dancing at the each edge of the stage. I was ‘sittin’ on top of the world (Dead reference intended). What a night!!

If you pull up look the Fire on the Mountain 1977 video from that NYE show, right at the end of Fire on the Mountain, the camera does focus in on the ‘oroboros’ for a couple of seconds. What a treat that run in 1977 was. At many levels, the return of China Cat-Rider, my being able to ‘gift’ our band, who poured out so much to us. But unknown to me, the best would be yet to come.

We walked out into the cool San Francisco early morning and drove through the fog back to Nebraska. This is not the end of the tale (see Artist Notes and Credits).

Tim Knight

“Daybreak on the land.”

Playin in the Band

“That’s what I got hooked to....if the fellas were playing on a stage then things would be ...ok.”

Unbroken Sunlower

“What The Grateful Dead were doing came from the best ideas humankind had come up with in centuries. It was the product of human potential actualized. And once I understood where the music came from, I understood the music. Once I understood the music, I could comprehend the magic.”

Analogkid

“I’m glad I saw what I saw, went where I went, and grew how I grew. The shows helped me lighten up, remember to say “I love you” more often, and appreciate the journey as much as the destination. I learned to appreciate the value of random, and that I had the largest responsibility for how I felt, and what I believed, and what I did.” shawnburt

“Small wheel turn by the ire and rod.

Big wheel turn by the grace of God.” The Wheel

“The Wheel is literally about the nature of the universe and the workings of God…..The thing about the Grateful Dead deity, and I know I am way out on a limb here, was that it was both wrathful and benevolent…. I remember seeing it with my mind’s eye, and it was like a beast. It was partly lizard, partly mammal.

It might have had more than two eyes. It deinitely had big teeth. And it would just sit there and look out at you.”

Steve Silberman

If I had to explain what an intense trip is like, I would condense it into this Space->Wheel combo.

Forcestream

Aug. 7, 1982 - Alpine Valley Music Theatre East Troy, WI

“Blossoms blooming.”

Sugar Magnolia

What stands out the most from that show is the Sugar Magnolia. You will never hear a better version of this song. Before Weir goes into the Sunshine Daydream refrain he goes into a rap about what the aborigines believe is the dream state and asked us what thought about that and then launched into the inish of Sunshine Daydream, wailing as he’s never done since.

Land Horses

“Wake up.”

Sunshine Daydream

I had a friend on Dead tour named Sunshine who did a lot of acid. I would change her name to conceal her identity, but there were so many girls on tour named Sunshine who did a lot of acid, that she might not even recognize herself if she read this. (But if she does: Hi! I love you!)

Sunshine hung out with the Spinners, who were like a cult within a cult on Dead Tour. They had these poofy dresses in which they would spin and spin and spin to the music, like enraptured dervishes. She once said something that I really liked.

Sunshine told me that sometimes she was so overcome with joy and beauty of the music and the crowd, that as she spun she would collect the extra energy in her hands like a glowing orb. Then she would open a portal and send all that goodness and vision into the future, so that it would reach her in times when she most

needed it. And sometimes in the present when she was feeling unsure of herself, she could feel Future Sunshine gazing lovingly at her back through time, and presenting her with the wisdom she needed to persevere.

As I said, I have never done drugs, and I don’t really think Jerry Garcia is any sort of prophet, but I love what Sunshine said. I really like this notion that you can collect the beauty of experience like a vitamin pill that you can administer to yourself in future times of need.

I decided to try it. I sent myself a lot of psychic time capsules as I danced. And even still today when I igure out something that I didn’t used to know, I try to whisper it back to younger me.

Mostly I just tell her not to be afraid of anything, because it is all leading somewhere wonderful.

Kat O’Sullivan

The feeling of exuberant joy that I felt when I recognized Unbroken Chain’s irst notes was the purest excitement I have ever experienced in my life. As the song’s last notes were fading, the room really literally crackled with energy and before I could communicate anything verbally to anyone around me the irst notes of Scarlet Begonias danced out of speakers. seda

“Listening for the secret, searching for the sound.”

Unbroken Chain

“A box of rain will ease the pain and love will see you through.”

Box of Rain

“Phil Lesh roaring into ‘Box of Rain’ after the melancholy beauty of ‘Black Muddy River’ was a triumph of spirit that to me, epitomizes the Grateful Dead energy that I went to shows looking for. This is what buoys my mood whenever I feel loss. It reminds me that if my brother/sister/friend is struggling. I have the power to pick them up.” drewstar11

“Let it be known.

There is a fountain that was not made by the hands of men.”

Ripple

“Ripple has always been a favorite and I have found both comfort and joy in the music and lyrics. I came across a version with Bobby singing the tune with the Perkins School for the Blind Secondary Chorus and was really moved. It was just a great example of how powerful a song it is, at least to me.” augwest386

“Nothin’ left to do but smile, smile, smile!!!”

He’s Gone

1942 - 1995

Artist Notes and Credits Bird Song Becky Venteicher Black and White Photo www.beckyventeicher.com www.etsy.com/shop/BeckyVenteicher Lyrics by Robert Hunter. Music by Jerry Garcia. Lyrics copyright by Ice Nine Publishing Company Inc.

Black Peter Shelley Samuelson “Peter,” Lithograph Story by Phillip Samuelson Lyrics by Robert Hunter. Music by Jerry Garcia. Lyrics copyright by Ice Nine Publishing Company Inc.

Box of Rain Oliver Watt Oliver Watt is a contemporary British born artist. His style evolved from his enthusiasm for looking at life in diferent ways. His artworks are predominantly abstract in style and characterized by textured harmonious colors. Oliver works with clients worldwide to translate ideas and themes into unique pieces.

Web: oliverjameswatt.com email: info@oliverjameswatt.com Lyrics by Robert Hunter. Music by Phil Lesh. Lyrics copyright by Ice Nine Publishing Company Inc.

Candyman Alyssa Krane Alyssa Krane is a Toronto-based abstract artist who has been painting for over 20 years. Passionate about art, Alyssa’s portfolio includes highly expressive works on large canvases, diptychs, wood and glass.

These original works of art are created in acrylics, oils, inks or mixed media. For commission information, please email her via http://ineartamerica.com/ proiles/alyssa-krane.html Editor’s Note: I wanted to buy the original “Candyman” painting from Alyssa but it was not for sale. Instead I commissioned her to paint “Mission in the Rain.”

When she sent me “Mission,” I found ‘Candyman” in the packing box as well, free of charge. I was blown away. Later Alyssa emailed me: “I have been watching the shipment like a hawk because I was excited to be sending Candyman to you. It brought me great joy to surprise you with it.”

Story by Matthew Watkins, posted on Mike’s Blog http://mikesgratefulblog.blogspot.com/2009/03/ candyman-grateful-dead-song-review.html Liner Note: One of the most emotional moments in the Dead’s history can be heard during “Candyman” on the audience recording from 12/15/1986 (link below) https://archive.org/details/gd86-12-15.nakcm101dwonk.25263.sbeok.lacf

Crazy Fingers Jerry Garcia, Artist “Carousel Frog,” Original pen and ink on notebook paper

Lyrics by Robert Hunter. Music by Jerry Garcia. Lyrics copyright by Ice Nine Publishing Company Inc.

Lyrics by Robert Hunter. Music by Jerry Garcia. Lyrics copyright by Ice Nine Publishing Company Inc.

Franklin’s Tower Unknown

Dark Star Leigh Aschof and Barret VonGentz Photograph Lyrics by Robert Hunter. Music by Jerry Garcia, Bill Kreutzmann, Phil Lesh, Ron McKernan, Bob Weir and Mickey Hart. Lyrics copyright by Ice Nine Publishing Company Inc.

El Paso Unknown Found in a garage sale in Marin County. Inscription on the back of the piece says “To the Grateful Dead, my favorite people” and looks like it was signed by a person named Rex. Lyrics and Music by Marty Robbins.

He’s Gone Mr. Babes Mr. Babes is a Hawaiian pop artist, whose work has been displayed in New York, San Francisco, Miami, Pittsburgh, and other cities across the country.

Before becoming a professional artist, Mr. Babes was a ine art broker, gallery director, and elementary art teacher. His original style of art is a fusion of pop, expressionism, and street genres.

Lyrics by Robert Hunter. Music by Jerry Garcia. Lyrics copyright by Ice Nine Publishing Company Inc.

Victim or the Crime Kenneth Rogeaux “Patience.”

Lyrics by Robert Hunter. Music by Jerry Garcia. Lyrics copyright by Ice Nine Publishing Company Inc.

Cold, Rain and Snow R. Marx “The Dreadful Wind & Rain,” Watercolor on cotton rag www.marxmarx.com Words and Music: traditional. Arranged by The Grateful Dead.

http://artfamilia.etsy.com Words by Gerrit Graham. Music by Bob Weir.

Fire on the Mountain Michael Creese “Armageddon” Lyrics by Robert Hunter. Music by Mickey Hart. Lyrics copyright by Ice Nine Publishing Company Inc. Continuation of Story: Fast forward to another road trip to Madison, Wisc.on 2-3-78. The Dead were on a roll and it was really a killer show. That Cold Rain and snow to start and the tremendous second half with Estimated>Eyes>Wheel (if I recall correctly).

The next morning before I left the hotel, I got a wild hair and called the front desk and asked “Could I have Jerry Garcia’s room please?” and the phone rang and Jerry answered! I said “Hey, I’m the guy that brought the dragon to the New Year’s show” and Garcia said “Meet you in the cofee shop in 20 minutes”. I couldn’t believe what was happening but stumbled into the cofee shop at the appointed time and looked around and saw Jerry Garcia seated at a table with a ravishingly beautiful raven-haired gypsy woman.

I walked over and introduced myself, and ‘shook the hand that shook the hand, of PT Barnum and Charlie Chan’. Jerry beamed that smile and gestured and said “sit down, man”. He asked me “How did you ire that dragon so that it didn’t explode in the kiln?” and I explained how I had cut it in half and hollowed it and joined it back together. I told him how I had used a guitar string to ‘halve it” and we locked eyes at that moment and he burst into laughter and I said “Ironic, huh?” and Jerry quipped “No, man that makes perfect sense.” And then we laughed some more. Then the gypsy/beauty said “where are you from?” and I replied Nebraska. And she shot Garcia a glance and stated “he came all the way up here from Nebraska to see the band!” To which Jerry shrugged his shoulders and retorted “we didn’t ask him to come” and looked at me and we both howled with laughter again. No deadhead was she.

We talked more about art and the dragon and I didn’t know at that time of Garcia’s interest and practice in art (this kind anyway). He was completely engaged in the topic of art, but quick witted with ‘turn on a dime’ twists, turns, and little commentaries on a variety of topics. Jerry was also focused on listening, not acting like he was the important one, giving me time and locked in on our discussion and talking about our shared interests. The gypsy woman frowned in disbelief as she asked me “You went out to San Francisco for New Years and then came to Wisconsin” and I said ‘yes’ and then I turned to Garcia and asked him “Why don’t you bring the circus back to Lincoln, Nebraska?” He quickly replied “You mean to Perishing Auditorium?”

And I corrected him “No, it is Pershing Auditorium, after the army general” and he quickly retorted “No man, it was perishing, really!” And we both burst out laughing again. At that Lincoln, Ne. Dead show on 2-26-73, there were a bunch of drunk frat boys yelling ‘boogie, boogie” at the top of their lungs.., but that show is top-notch!

Anyway, I asked Garcia “could you bring the Dead back to Nebraska” and Jerry grinned that Cheshire cat grin and said “who knows?”

I took my leave (their breakfast arrived) and drove home. Then that summer the Dead came back to Omaha, Ne. on 7-5-78, and I taped them with my NAK 550 in FOB, and followed them to their/my irst Red Rocks shows.

So that is my story, Jerry Garcia was totally gracious, engaging, enthusiastic, and kind to a deadhead who approached him at one moment in time.

Fire on the Mountain Kevin Seybold “Fuego on a Moonlit Night,” Photograph www.kevinseboldphotography.com Editor Note: “The third explosive eruption of Mount St. Helens occurred Thursday evening, June 12, 1980. It was preceded by a buildup of harmonic tremor similar to that which preceded the May 25th eruption. The tremor began at low levels about midday and increased in amplitude throughout the afternoon. A marked increase was noted at 7:05 p.m., and reports of an eruption cloud rising to an altitude of at least 13,000 feet were received 5 minutes later. Tremor dropped of in strength immediately after the eruptive pulse and luctuated at moderate amplitudes for more than 2 hours. This lull was temporary as a dramatic increase in tremor amplitude began at 9:11 p.m.” http://vulcan.wr.usgs.gov/Volcanoes/MSH/May18/ OnThisDay1980/Days/1980June12.html Lyrics by Robert Hunter. Music by Mickey Hart. Lyrics copyright by Ice Nine Publishing Company Inc.

Morning Dew Aik Beng Chia Also known as ABC, Aik Beng Chia started photographing in 2008 after buying his iPhone 2G. His photos focus on the daily lives of people on the streets of Singapore, and they have been exhibited and published internationally, most recently in 2012 at the Invisible Photographer Asia (IPA) Gallery. In 2013, he launched his irst monograph “Tonight The Streets Are Ours” published by the Invisible Photographer Asia, which showed Singapore’s Little India after dusk. http://www.aikbengchia.com Follow him on Twitter or Instagram as @aikbengchia Lyrics and Music by Bonnie Dobson and Time Rose.

Lyrics copyright by Warner-Tamerlane Publishing Corp.

Mission in the Rain Alyssa Krane Commissioned Work.

“I loved painting (Mission in the Rain). It was such a process and the burst of pale green towards the center brought an optimism to the piece, despite its darkness.”

Alyssa Krane is a Toronto-based abstract artist who has been painting for over 20 years. Passionate about art, Alyssa’s portfolio includes highly expressive works on large canvases, diptychs, wood and glass.

These original works of art are created in acrylics, oils, inks or mixed media.

For commission information, please email her via http://ineartamerica.com/proiles/alyssa-krane.html Lyrics by Robert Hunter. Music by Jerry Garcia. Lyrics copyright by Ice Nine Publishing Company Inc.

Playin’ in the Band Lautir My art name is Lautir. I live and work in Milan, Italy.

I was born in 1971. http://stores.ebay.com/LAUTIRS-PORTRAITS-andPAINTINGS Lyrics by Robert Hunter. Music by Bob Weir and Mickey Hart. Lyrics copyright by Ice Nine Publishing Company Inc.

Sugar Magnolia Aja Sagittarius Gallery www.sagittariusgallery.com Lyrics by Robert Hunter and Bob Weir. Music by Bob Weir. Lyrics copyright by Ice Nine Publishing Company Inc.

Ripple Chris Kfoury

Scarlett Begonias Pat Butler

“I paint what interests me, and the connection that sparks with another person who has their own relationship with the work reinforces the concept of non-duality I seek in my life. Color has always been important to me, even when I was focusing on much more representative work. I like to intensify the colors that I see, making them vibrant and even more meaningful. The Grateful Dead has had a huge impact on my work. The music of the Dead is color and light to me; that is the simplest way I can think to describe it.

Pat Butler is a graduate of the Illustration program at Sheridan College and the Art History program at the University of Toronto. He lives, works and teaches in Toronto, Canada

I live close to a river that lows to nearby coastal New Hampshire, with my husband Fred, kids Natalie, Rick and Sam. On any given day you can ind me listening to the Dead and painting or hanging out at my home gallery in North Berwick, Maine; Blackbird Studio and Gallery.

“My original artwork seems to come to me automatically from my subconscious and portrays aspects of the “being human” predicament in a way that is similar to storytelling, myths, fairy tales etc.”

By far the most important aspect of doing the art is the process itself, with the destination of simply sharing it. I like to keep busy and generally have 30-35 pieces up between various exhibits. I have participated in numerous solo, group and juried shows in New Hampshire, Maine and Massachusetts and my work is part of collections throughout the country and internationally as well.”

Lyrics by Robert Hunter. Music by Jerry Garcia. Lyrics copyright by Ice Nine Publishing Company Inc.

www.chriskfouryart.artistwebsites.com The link to the video of Bob Weir’s performance of “Ripple” with the Perkins School for the Blind is below: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fdCYqiEmMJg Lyrics by Robert Hunter. Music by Jerry Garcia. Lyrics copyright by Ice Nine Publishing Company Inc.

http://patbutlerillustration.com/ Lyrics by Robert Hunter. Music by Jerry Garcia. Lyrics copyright by Ice Nine Publishing Company Inc.

Ship of Fools Pamela Jeanne Ott

www.etsy.com/shop/HighDesertBohemian www.lickr.com/photos/52431852@N02

Sugaree Jesse Berger jesse123123@gmail.com Lyrics by Robert Hunter. Music by Jerry Garcia. Lyrics copyright by Ice Nine Publishing Company Inc.

Sunshine Daydream Emily Dwan Acrylic painting on wood with a resin coating embedded with meteorite shavings, garnet and pyrite.

Emily Dwan is an abstract artist living in Denver, Colorado. She typically uses vibrant colors and exaggerated brush strokes to create her dreamlike paintings. www.EmilyDwan.com Lyrics by Robert Hunter and Bob Weir. Music by Bob Weir. Lyrics copyright by Ice Nine Publishing Company Inc.

The Music Never Stopped R. Crumb Used by kind permission. rcrumb.com Editor’s Note: Steve’s Silberman’s quote from The Well is in regard to the version of “The Music Never Stopped” from the 10/14/1980 Grateful Dead Show at The Warield, San Francisco.

Lyrics by John Barlow. Music by Bob Weir. Lyrics copyright by Ice Nine Publishing Company Inc.

The Other One Frank Ware “Neal Cassady,” Pen and Ink Lithograph The drawing of Neal is the famous “Joan Anderson Letter,” the letter Neal wrote to Jack Kerouac that inspired Kerouac’s writing style in On the Road.

The letter was published in Neal Cassasy’s book, The First Third. The letter is hand written by Frank, starting at Neal’s right eye. http://www.nealcassadyestate.com/shop.html Editor’s Note: Jerry Garcia once said the Neal Cassady was “an artist and he was the art also.”

Lyrics by Bob Weir. Music by Bob Weir and Bill Kreutzmann. Lyrics copyright by Ice Nine Publishing Company Inc.

They Love Each Other Dorothy Messenger, 1925-2011 Born in San Diego, California in 1925 to Swedish parents, Dorothy graduated from San Diego State University with a Bachelor of Arts degree. She subsequently pursued post-graduate art studies at the Art Center College of Design in Los Angeles, Columbia University, and the Art Students’ League in New York City.

Her most infamous illustration was a depiction of THE LORD’S SUPPER in which as she burned the midnight oil to reach a deadline, she drew thirteen disciples at the table with Jesus, rather than the standard twelve men. The error was not caught by editors and the book went to press with the thirteenth disciple in attendance.

Dorothy described her own work as “fey and whimsical”. Her earliest work featured painting; both oil and watercolor. In the years of her formal studies, she drew more sketches and portraits with pencil and charcoal.

A lover of ballet dancing, literature, music, and all ine arts, Dorothy’s quiet personal Christian faith was also always a part of her life. She passed peacefully and quietly in her sleep on her 86th birthday, February 9, 2011. www.dorothymessenger.com Email from Guy Messenger, Dorothy’s son:

The Wheel Shambu Lama Bohdinath, Kathmandu, Nepal Quote from Steve Silberman Interview Feb 17, 1996 as written in Traces of the Spirit, Robin Sylvan, New York University Press, 2002, p 97 Lyrics by Robert Hunter. Music by Jerry Garcia and Bill Kreutzmann. Lyrics copyright by Ice Nine Publishing Company Inc.

“When Jerry died, my parents were living in Marin County at a rental near the church where the service was held. My mom, with whom you’re now familiar, knew nothing about modern music, but walked up the hill after the funeral and asked inside if she could have some roses from the altar.

I had the roses dried and mounted and gave one conglomeration to a roommate, too.

So I have on my wall real “Roses from the funeral of Jerry Garcia”. It was nice of my mom to do that.”

Editor’s Note: I was very interested in Dorothy’s original artwork but opted to buy a giclee print as the Messenger family was understandably attached to the original piece. When the print arrived by FEDEX, I noticed what I thought was a second copy of the print in the envelope. It turned out to be the original drawing – a gift to me out of the kindness of the family’s heart.

Lyrics by Robert Hunter. Music by Jerry Garcia. Lyrics copyright by Ice Nine Publishing Company Inc.

Unbroken Chain Oliver Watt Commissioned Work “… the ‘Unbroken Chain’ title of the song gives me the sense of this ongoing search and pattern in people’s lives - whether it be loss, sorrow, searching for something or just peace within themselves.

Basically all my thoughts kept taking me back to a horizon, scene and landscape setting - a wintery, cool peaceful scene which depicts and incorporates some of the lyrics - The unbroken chain of life, mountainous, winds, willow sky, religion, sorrow, etc.

- The colours also relect what I feel about the piece and lyrics.”

Oliver Watt is a contemporary British born artist. His style evolved from his enthusiasm for looking at life in diferent ways. His artworks are predominantly abstract in style and characterized by textured harmonious colors. Oliver works with clients worldwide to translate ideas and themes into unique pieces.

Web: oliverjameswatt.com email: info@oliverjameswatt.com Lyrics by Robert M. Petersen. Music by Phil Lesh.

Lyrics copyright by Ice Nine Publishing Company Inc.

Special thanks Dead.net, Mike Hofman’s Music Forums, Mike’s Blog, The Well, The Experience Project, and Reddit.

www.thegratefulproject.org