August 19, 25, 26, 1967: Grateful Dead "Lake Tahoe Tour"

The poster advertising the opening of Kings Beach Bowl in North Lake Tahoe, July 1967

In August of 1967, the Grateful Dead played three shows in the Lake Tahoe area in California. Lake Tahoe is a huge freshwater lake straddling the California/Nevada border, about 200 miles from San Francisco and 60 miles South of Reno. On Saturday, August 19, the band played Lake Tahoe's main venue, The American Legion Hall in the town of South Lake Tahoe. The next weekend, on Friday and Saturday, August 25 and 26, the Dead played Kings Beach Bowl in North Lake Tahoe. If you just peruse Deadlists or a similar database, these just seem like casual California shows that were part of the Dead's never-ending touring, and in some ways they were. Nonetheless, the Lake Tahoe rock scene in the 60s was unique, and a closer look at it will lend some interesting perspective to these performances.

Lake Tahoe had always been San Francisco and Northern California's playground, and there is a long American history of entertainment in resort areas. The Catskills in New York or the 'Silver Circuit' in Nevada (Las Vegas, Reno, North Tahoe) have lengthy post-WW2 traditions. One peculiar feature of Lake Tahoe, however, was that there was gambling on the Nevada side of the lake (usually referred to as 'North Lake Tahoe'), so the casinos focused on the high-end trade there. The California side (usually referred to as 'South Lake Tahoe,' although the geography doesn't quite fit that) was more of the family side. After Lake Tahoe boomed following the 1960 Winter Olympics, the California side of the lake was left for "the kids," because the adults wanted to go to Nevada and gamble. As a result, for a resort area, the California side of Lake Tahoe in the 1960s had a peculiar focus on rock and roll that is largely undocumented. I am in the process of sorting it all out, and the Grateful Dead's week in Lake Tahoe in 1967 makes an interesting snapshot of a unique American rock scene, and it will shed some light on why the Grateful Dead returned to Kings Beach Bowl more than once.

Lake Tahoe
Lake Tahoe, straddling California and Nevada, is one of the West’s largest, deepest, clearest and most beautiful lakes. The lake sits six thousand feet above sea level, and the Truckee River feeds the lake, flowing into and then out of the lake. Truckee, California, about 12 miles North of Lake Tahoe and 30 miles West of Reno, was an original train stop on the Transcontinental Railroad. In 1899 the Duane L. Bliss Family built the Lake Tahoe Railway and Transportation Company. The Southern Pacific Railway actively encouraged tourist attractions along its rail lines, and Lake Tahoe became a popular resort for the San Francisco Bay Area.

Many families in both the Bay Area and the Sacramento/Central Valley area would buy or rent second homes in Lake Tahoe, and they would spend much of the Summer and many Winter weekends at Tahoe. Part of Lake Tahoe's specialness was that it was a great resort for both Summer and Winter. After 1960, when the Winter Olympics were held at nearby Squaw Valley, Lake Tahoe boomed again, particularly for Winter sports. Since the Lake was on the California/Nevada border, parents could go over to the Nevada side and gamble, leaving their teenage kids to fend for themselves.

Lake Tahoe Music in The 1960s
The first person to catch on to the vast quantity of teenagers in Lake Tahoe was a guitarist named Jim Burgett. He started putting on dances at the South Lake Tahoe American Legion Hall (at 2748 Lake Tahoe Blvd [US 50], South Lake Tahoe, CA) in 1958. The story is complicated, but by the mid-60s Burgett was holding dances at the Legion Hall seven days a week from Memorial Day to Labor Day. For any teenagers spending a week, a month or a Summer in Lake Tahoe, every night was Friday night, and with the parents often away in Nevada anyway, the Legion Hall dances were the only show in town. Burgett's own band played most nights, but on occasion he hired out of town acts as well. When the Fillmore bands became popular, he would often hire them to give his own band a night off (Burgett also played six days a week at Harrah's Tahoe, believe it or not). The Jim Burgett saga is amazing, and well worthy of a book, which fortunately he is planning to write.

North Lake Tahoe, about 20 miles away, was less crowded and hence had less activity. However, the North Lake Tahoe set considered themselves cooler than the South, and a venue opened in North Lake Tahoe as well. Kings Beach Bowl, a converted bowling alley on North Lake Avenue, was opened in the Summer of 1967, but it was mostly only open on weekends. The sons of the owners had a band, and their dads created a place for them to play. Although the teenagers were not the bookers, they advised the booking agents on what was cool in Sacramento (where they were from) and San Francisco, so some very cool Fillmore bands played Kings Beach Bowl in 1967 and 1968, including Jimi Hendrix, The Grateful Dead and Buffalo Springfield.

The Grateful Dead, August 1967
In August, 1967 the Grateful Dead had just finished a run through Canada with the Jefferson Airplane, and they were working towards their second album. Their temporary base of operations that Summer was generally thought to be Rio Nido, but the band seems to have taken the Lake Tahoe gigs as a sort of vacation. Apparently, Jerry, Mountain Girl and her daughter Sunshine spent the entire week in Lake Tahoe, and I suspect many other band members did as well. Anyone with urgent business could have driven the four hours back to San Francisco, but Lake Tahoe is so nice that there would have to be a pretty good reason to do so.

One odd story about the Lake Tahoe shows that I have read (although I am unable to track the quote) was that Jerry and Mountain Girl hated the motel where they were put up, so they simply went camping for the week between shows. Lake Tahoe was still empty enough in those days that it wouldn't have been too hard to find a place to camp, albeit somewhat unofficially, and it still would not have been hard to come into civilization for rehearsals, cigarettes or other essentials. Jerry had apparently been camping a lot as a child and was comfortable in a tent. This had to be the last time Garcia could consider doing such a thing.

Since Lake Tahoe was a resort area, it was probably part of band's contracts that housing was provided. However, there were a lot of tacky little hotels, the kind of places that made Motel 6 look good (I think my family stayed in a few). The general idea of Lake Tahoe was that it was so nice that you wouldn't want to spend a lot of time indoors, so the motel was just a place to sleep. For a mom with an infant and a guy who wanted to practice guitar all day, however, the woods were probably more fun than sitting in a little motel. Given the number of Bay Area teenagers in Lake Tahoe during that (or any) Summer, I can't help but think that at least one of them passed by Jerry and MG in the hills and thought "hey, the dude looks like Jerry Garcia."

We know that Robert Hunter re-connected with the Grateful Dead in Rio Nido the next week (ca. September  3), and we know that Mickey Hart had met Bill Kreutzmann, but not yet met the Dead, so the band was still in its original state. I assume much or all of the "Family" was up in Lake Tahoe, but since there is very little information about these shows, I can't quite say. Nonetheless, I do have some interesting context in which the shows can be considered.

The American Legion Hall in South Lake Tahoe, at 2748 Lake Tahoe Blvd, circa 1965. For a great story on the history of Jim Burgett and The Legion Hall, see the Tahoe Daily Tribune.

American Legion Hall, 2848 Lake Tahoe Blvd, South Lake Tahoe, CA
By 1967, Jim Burgett had been putting on shows at the Legion Hall for almost a decade, and his shows were an institution with teenagers who regularly visited Tahoe. By this time, Burgett controlled the lease for the American Legion Hall, and his band played seven nights a week from Memorial Day to Labor Day. Since every night was Friday night for a teenager in Tahoe, the dances were generally packed. Burgett's band were also regulars in Harrah's Tahoe, where they played six days a week. Think about that for a second: six days and seven nights a week, for three straight months.

Burgett's band played a mixture of rock and soul, and they are remembered fondly by Tahoe teenagers in the 60s. Like many Nevada musicians, they were established professionals who could play a wide variety of styles. They probably played some poppier material in the Harrah's lounge, but at the American Legion Hall they played a lot of Motown, Stax and songs like Eric Burdon's "We Gotta Get Out Of This Place," although of course that was merely ironic in lovely Lake Tahoe, since no one actually wanted to leave.

However, when outside bands were available, Burgett would book them, both to give his own band a break and to provide some variation for the regulars at his dances. Sometimes Burgett's band would be the opening act, or they would back a singer, but I think in the case of the Grateful Dead Burgett may have simply taken the night off. A long-gone Comment thread on a Lake Tahoe tourist site recalls the Dead rocking the Legion Hall until about 3 in the morning. While I'm sure the audience wasn't exactly straight, part of the appeal of the Lake Tahoe scene was the fact that it was not a bar scene. Parents were very comfortable letting their teenagers go to shows in Lake Tahoe, because there were no bars (although I'm sure plenty of beer was consumed in the parking lot) and relatively speaking, no older people. Some of the people going to the rock shows were probably in their early 20s, but in general the adults went to the Nevada side to drink and gamble, so the California side was judged safe for teenagers.

From people who were around at the time, the teenagers traveled in packs. If a family owned or rented a house in Tahoe, the kids in the family would invite all their cousins or school friends up for a week or two. When the parents went off at night to gamble, the teenagers went out on their own, and Jim Burgett's dances at the Legion Hall were the prime, if not the only, destination. Older siblings usually had the obligation to drive and look after the younger ones, so once again the dances were a good way for big sisters to keep an eye on their proverbial little brothers without having to spend too much time with them.  Many comment threads on Facebook and elsewhere recall the Dead's 1967 show at the Legion Hall, but details are naturally foggy.

Kings Beach Bowl, North Lake Avenue, North Lake Tahoe, CA
Kings Beach Bowl was a gutted bowling alley on the California side of North Lake Tahoe. North Lake Tahoe, was a smaller and more latterly developed area than the Southern end. Originally South Lake Tahoe, CA had been for families and North Lake Tahoe, NV for gambling, but the California side of North Tahoe had grown up as well. According to one resident, the North Tahoe people saw themselves as "real," if part-time, residents than the more touristy South, and generally thought they were cooler. The Kings Beach Bowl was even smaller than the American Legion Hall, and was only open on weekends, but the North Tahoe teenagers thought that they were cooler. In any case, Kings Beach Bowl had the hip bands from the Fillmore, all of whom were familiar to the Bay Area teenagers who populated Lake Tahoe in the Summers. I have been working on a fairly complete chronology of the Kings Beach Bowl adventure, but I will save that for another blog, and just present a thumbnail sketch of the venue.

The operators of Kings Beach Bowl were Dave Jay and Allan Goodall. Allan Jay's sons were in a Sacramento band called The Creators, and they were friends with Allen Goodall's son. The senior Jay and Goodall put together Kings Beach Bowl so that The Creators would have a place to play. The members of The Creators were Warren and Gary Jay, and Skip Maggiora, Dickie Pomeine [possibly "Dickie Pomin"] and Pat Payton. For a light show, they hired some Sacramento college students who called themselves The Simultaneous Avalanche. The Simultaneous Avalanche had begun the Summer working for Jim Burgett at the American Legion Hall, but moved to Kings Beach Bowl "in search of fun and adventure" (according to the Avalanche's Rick Schultze, via another friend). The Creators and The Simultaneous Avalanche, all friends, were regular attractions at Kings Beach Bowl, with visiting headliners bought in from outside on most weekends.

Unlike the larger and more established Legion Hall in South Tahoe, Kings Beach Bowl was only open on weekends. However, while Jay and Goodall used a professional booking agent, they took the advice of their sons and their friends as to what bands to book. As a result, not only did some very hip Fillmore bands come through Kings Beach Bowl in the Summer of 1967, but some interesting touring bands like Buffalo Springfield and even Jimi Hendrix also found time for an extra gig at Kings Beach.

Kings Beach Bowl was just a converted bowling alley, and hardly a special building. Nonetheless, eyewitnesses recall it fondly. I only know of one photo of the inside, from when the Buffalo Springfield played on August 18-19, 1967 (I even know where you can find it). Most of the attendees were based in North Tahoe, but largely came from the Bay Area and Northern California, so they had heard of all the Fillmore groups. For many, it was the first chance to see these groups. The commercial area of North Lake Tahoe was so quiet and safe that parents had no problem allowing teenagers and their friends to go to shows on their own.


Kings Beach Bowl only presented shows on weekends, unlike the American Legion Hall, which was open 7 days a week from Memorial Day to Labor Day. In 1967, when it opened, Kings Beach only began on June 15. The Grateful Dead would have been the last or next to last event presented, as I still have not been able to determine if Kings Beach was open Labor Day. I believe that bands were housed in a nearby vacation home for the weekend. Lake Tahoe houses at the time were not opulent, but they were usually spacious and secluded, just the thing for a band who liked to travel with all their crew, girlfriends and families and engage in various extracurricular activities. Since Allen Goodall worked for the Sheriff's department, there were not problems with the cops.

August 25-26, 1967, Kings Beach Bowl, North Lake Tahoe, CA: Grateful Dead/The Creators
What happened on the weekend of August 25 and 26, 1967? No one remembers. However, the Grateful Dead came back for two more weekends, so it must have been a good time.

As soon as the band returned to the Bay Area, they seem to have gone to Rio Nido and begun work on "Dark Star." I estimate that Phil Lesh picked up Robert Hunter in Palo Alto that week too. putting Hunter up at the Russian River so he could hear the band rehearse and put lyrics to "Dark Star," so it was a pretty momentous week. Somebody must have remembered something, however, because the Dead made plans to return in the Winter and the next Summer.

The poster for the Feb 22-24 '68 shows at Kings Beach Bowl in North Lake Tahoe

February 22-24, 1968, Kings Beach Bowl,  North Lake Tahoe, CA: Grateful Dead/Morning Glory
After the 1960 Squaw Valley Olympics, Lake Tahoe became a major Winter Sports destination. However, families were less likely to spend entire weeks there during the school year, and in the Winter mobility was limited, so there were fewer entertainment options. However, Winter holidays were still big family events in the Lake Tahoe area, so it was no surprise that Kings Beach Bowl put on an event over the Washington's Birthday weekend. In ancient times, both Lincoln's (Feb 12) and Washington's birthdays (Feb 22) were National holidays, and they were celebrated on whatever day of the week they happened to fall (sometime later they were replaced by the always-on-Monday 'Presidents Day'). In 1968, Washington's Birthday was on a Thursday, so that suggested a great ski weekend for February 22 through 25.

The Grateful Dead and The Morning Glory (a Marin band) headlined three nights at Kings Beach Bowl, with the accompanying "Trip Or Ski" poster. The assumption was that many people would come to Lake Tahoe to ski, and they would need something to do at night. Since the Dead were working on Anthem Of The Sun at the time, Dan Healy recorded the three nights. Among other things, the Kings Beach weekend was one of the first times Betty Cantor worked on the live recording of a Grateful Dead show. Note that the poster (above) has no directions beyond saying "North Shore." The geography was so simple, and there was only one main road (North Lake Avenue), so an actual address was unnecessary.

Two of the nights were released in 2001 as part of Dick's Picks Volume Twenty-Two (the February 22 tape had problems). The Dead's tapes are the only known live recordings from Kings Beach Bowl. I have no idea how well attended the Trip Or Ski event was, but I know that Kings Beach Bowl repeated the experiment in Winter 1969, albeit without the Dead, so it must have had some success.

July 12-13, 1968, Kings Beach Bowl, North Lake Tahoe, CA: Grateful Dead/Working Class
Kings Beach Bowl had another season of shows in 1968. However, although a good time was had by all, the relatively tiny venue was getting priced out by the growing popularity of Fillmore bands. At the same time, some groups who had appeared the year before. like Quicksilver Messenger Service, were now touring nationally, so they were less available.  The Grateful Dead played that weekend, however, so clearly the band enjoyed the Kings Beach vibe. By 1968,  not only was the American Legion Hall still going strong, but there was another, larger venue in South Lake Tahoe, called The Sanctuary. This, too, is another story, but suffice to say the Dead had three choices of venues to play in Lake Tahoe, and they chose the smallest one, so clearly the circumstances at Kings Beach Bowl were to their liking.

The house band at Kings Beach Bowl in 1968 was a Sacramento band called The Working Class. Over that July weekend, The Working Class revised their membership and evolved into a group called Sanpaku. Sanpaku was a very interesting group in its own right, as I can say with authority since I am Sanpaku's self-appointed historian. The band has some very interesting memories of the July weekend with the Dead, but we will need to wait until the book comes out.

Aftermath and Prequel
After 1968, Kings Beach Bowl largely closed down, except for the occasional show. In 1969, even the loyal Grateful Dead would have been too big to play there in any case. In the Winter of '69, snow caved in the roof of The American Legion Hall, and Jim Burgett moved his operation over to the much larger Sanctuary, which he took over and re-named The Fun House. Thus Lake Tahoe moved from three venues in Summer 1968 to one in Summer 1969. The Fun House had a successful run into the early 70s, but the Grateful Dead had long since moved to larger venues.

Although the week of August 19-26, 1967 seems lost to the mists of history, I think the scenario goes something like this: the Grateful Dead and their family (literally and figuratively) were looking for a holiday week in Lake Tahoe, although why exactly they needed a "break" from Rio Nido isn't plain. The band had a successful gig in South Shore, and were put up in a cheap hotel for a few days. The hotel was so unappealing that Garcia and Mountain Girl actually went camping, a remarkable detail on its own terms. If the camping week was capped off by a relaxing weekend in a North Lake Tahoe vacation home, as I think it was, it must have led to some very fond feelings towards Kings Beach Bowl and its operators. Thus for the brief time as a San Francisco/Fillmore enclave in the 60s, the Dead chose Kings Beach Bowl as their preferred destination.

Poking around the web on various message boards and comment threads, one finds that numerous people have fond memories of the Lake Tahoe scene, particularly Jim Burgett's dances at the American Legion Hall. However, one very commentator piqued my interest, and although like all internet comments they have to be considered with some reservations, it's a fascinating tidbit. Specifically, one old Tahoe hippie recalls seeing the Grateful Dead at the American Legion Hall in the Fall of 1966, well after Labor Day. There were less than 50 people present, and it was so laid back that Pigpen actually wore guns on stage, in an old West styled holster.

This crazy story is not as far fetched as it sounds. Jim Burgett was kind enough to respond to a few questions, and he told me that while he held the master lease to the American Legion Hall, outside of the Memorial Day to Labor Day window he often leased it to outside promoters. In many cases, Burgett and his band were on tour, so Burgett only had a general idea of what was being presented at at the Legion Hall (he knew a concert promoter would be using it, for example, but he might not know who the bands were). Thus some San Francisco entity could have leased the Legion Hall to put on a Dead show, and found out that the audience wasn't there in the Fall. I even have some clues as to who the promoters might have been, but that is too long a tangent to go into here. Hopefully I will have sorted out more of that story when I tell the entire Lake Tahoe 60s rock story on my other blog.

Most Deadheads know about the Trip Or Ski shows in February of 1968, because of the poster and Dicks Picks. However, the Grateful Dead seemed to have packed a surprising number of shows into a few years at Lake Tahoe, and as old memories are slowly recovered--you know who you are!--we look forward to finding out more.

December 12, 1981 Fiesta Hall, San Mateo County Fairgrounds, San Mateo, CA: Grateful Dead/Joan Baez/High Noon "Dance For Nuclear Disarmarment"

On December 12, 1981, the Grateful Dead played a low profile benefit at the relatively small Fiesta Hall on the San Mateo County Fairgrounds. The show was advertised as "Dance For Nuclear Disarmament with Joan Baez and Friends." I forget how it was billed exactly, but Jerry Garcia and other members of the Grateful Dead were listed as the guests. The implication of the billing was that this show would be another version of the two benefits the Dead had played earlier in the year, where the "Acoustic Dead," with John Kahn on bass, had headlined over a variety of acoustic performers. Fiesta Hall was tiny, with a capacity of around 2,000, and the show sounded like fun. As it turned out, it was indeed fun, but it wasn't what we expected.

The configuration of the "Dance For Disarmament" was very odd. Since audience and soundboard tapes circulate, I am using this post to describe the event itself and to emphasize the particularly unique aspects of the show, and I will limit my comments on the music. Most shows from the early 70s onward fit into some very basic models. The two acoustic benefits in 1981 (Apr 25 at Berkeley Community Theater and May 22 at the Fox-Warfield) were an exception, but the Dance For Disarmament fit neither the traditional molds nor the newer "Acoustic Benefit" model. There are some parallels to the Dance For Disarmament in 60s and early 70s shows, but none later. Nothing like the format for the December 12, 1981 show was ever attempted again, so in some back door kind of way it must have been a significant show. To my knowledge, no member of the Dead has ever made a meaningful comment about the event.

The significantly unique events on December 12, 1981 were:

• Brent Mydland played grand piano in an electric Grateful Dead set
• The Dead played a single electric and a single acoustic set
• One of the opening acts was a band featuring an active member of The Grateful Dead
• The Dead backed up another artist for an entire set
• Jerry Garcia walked off stage during the show and left the rest of the band to finish the set

(a recent photo of Fiesta Hall at the San Mateo County Events Center)

Fiesta Hall, San Mateo County Fairgrounds, 1346 Saratoga Dr, San Mateo, CA
The San Mateo County Fairgrounds are located on Hillsdale Boulevard, between El Camino Real and Highway 101, about halfway between San Francisco and Palo Alto. As such, the Fairgrounds would have been a regular part of the landscape in the days when the fledgling Warlocks were working the joints on the El Camino in the Fall of '65. Indeed, the Fairgrounds were practically within walking distance of The In Room on the Old County Road in Belmont, the next town South. Since I assume that all the Dead members drove themselves to the show, only Brent Mydland would have needed directions. Everybody else in the band would have known where it was. Even though Mickey Hart had never played the In Room, Drum City, his father's drum shop, had been near the El Camino in San Carlos, the next town South of Belmont.

The Grateful Dead had played the San Mateo County Fairgrounds before, on May 9, 1969, but almost nothing is known of that show. They are listed (in Deadbase and elsewhere) as having played The Hall Of Flowers at the Fairgrounds. There is no such building by that name today, but there are several buildings, and any or all of them may have been re-named. Fiesta Hall is a modest sized pavilion with a capacity of about 2,000. It was mostly used for trade shows and other such events, but relatively rarely used for rock concerts. I did see Journey there in 1975, but at the time Journey were an unsigned band without a record contract, albeit an unsigned band with two former members of Santana and Aynsley Dunbar (plus two guys from Frumious Bandersnatch).

Jerry Garcia and Joan Baez
Joan Baez had gone to Palo Alto High School (preceding Bill Kreutzmann, Ron McKernan and me), where she had become locally famous for refusing to participate in "duck and cover" nuclear attack drills. After her family moved to Boston in 1958, she became Nationally famous as the clear voiced siren of young white folk singers. She mixed modern activism with traditional folk music, singing and playing in a simple, personal style that made her accessible to young and old alike. More serious practitioners of folk music thought of her as a trivial artist who had turned her looks and a few well known songs into a career.

One of those serious practitioners of folk music was Jerry Garcia. Blair Jackson speaks about the resentment Jerry Garcia had for Joan Baez's success (p.54), when he felt he was the superior musician. This was particularly frustrating for Garcia, as his girlfriend Sara Ruppenthal was friendly with Baez, who had returned to the Bay Area. In fact, Baez invited Sara to accompany her on a European tour, but this was obviated when Jerry got Sara pregnant, and marriage and motherhood replaced a tour of European venues for her.

By 1981, Joan Baez was more famous than ever for committed activism, first against the Vietnam War and by the late 1970s against nuclear power and nuclear weapons. Although Baez had had periodic successes, particularly with the 1975 album Diamonds And Rust, by the early 1980s she was much better known as a political figure than as a record or concert attraction. Many musicians had taken up the cause of nuclear disarmament by 1980, and Joan Baez was among them. In 1981, Joan Baez and Mickey Hart were dating, so it's not surprising that Joan managed to persuade the Dead to play a Nuclear Disarmament benefit.

In 1981, the Grateful Dead were a top-selling act at major East Coast venues, and sold a fair number of tickets on the West Coast as well, but without the "Grateful Dead" name they were not a huge draw. Granted, just the name "Jerry Garcia" sold out Fiesta Hall with almost no advertising, but while there were a few people outside looking for tickets, the scene was not mobbed or out of control. Since Jerry Garcia played the Keystone clubs constantly, the area's desire to see him play was fairly sated. It must have given Garcia a certain amount of satisfaction, however, for Joan Baez to need him to sell out her benefit. Back in the early 1960s, it would have been the other way around, and I think the competitive side of Garcia is often overlooked when compared to his many other interests. In fact, Garcia's actual feelings about the concert was of considerable interest to me after the show ended.

(my notes from the December 12, 1981 Grateful Dead show, written up that evening. At the time--and still--I was more interested in who performed and what instruments they had played, rather than setlists)

High Noon with Mickey Hart
Fiesta Hall was a rectangular building with the stage in the center of one of the long sides, rather than at the far end. Thus the crowd was spread widely, but everyone wasn't too far from one side of the stage or the other. The show was general admission, and sold out, but it wasn't particularly crowded.

We entered the concert expecting a performance by Joan Baez and then an acoustic set by the Grateful Dead, along the lines of what they had done at Berkeley and the Fox-Warfield earlier in the year. I no longer recall if Mickey Hart or High Noon was advertised, but perhaps they were. In any case, when High Noon opened the show it was still surprising. High Noon had debuted at the May 22 Warfield benefit, seemingly put together to back Country Joe McDonald. The band had played Bay Area nightclubs throughout the Summer, mostly featuring the songs of Jim McPherson. Joan Baez had guested regularly with the group, singing a song or two at many club dates.

High Noon had a one-time lineup, suggesting that the group was re-activated for just this show. The lineup was

• Mike Hinton-lead guitar
• Jim McPherson-guitar, vocals
• Merl Saunders-organ, electric piano, synthesizer, vocals
• Chuck Rainey-bass
• Mickey Hart-drums

Regular High Noon members Norton Buffalo (harmonica), Bobby Vega (bass) and Vicki Randle (congas) were missing from the lineup. Guest bassist Chuck Rainey was a session legend. I recognized him from one of my favorite jazz guitar albums, Larry Coryell's Fairyland (never released on cd, sad to say). High Noon played a brief, enjoyable set, featuring songs I recognized from having seen them before, including Merl's version of Nina Simone's "Do I Move You." Chuck Rainey was great, although mainly playing in a funky, laid back style, befitting a legend.

The New Riders Of The Purple Sage had opened numerous Grateful Dead shows when they featured Jerry Garcia and Mickey Hart during the 1969-71 period, but despite the profusion of Grateful Dead spinoff bands since then I can only think of one other time where any of them opened for the Grateful Dead. At the "Bob Fried Memorial Boogie" at Winterland on June 17, 1975, both Kingfish and Keith and Donna opened for the Grateful Dead (billed as Jerry Garcia and Friends), but other than that time this High Noon appearance was the only time I can recall where a Dead satellite band was the group's opening act. 

High Noon with Joan Baez
After several numbers, and probably about 30-45 minutes, High Noon invited Joan Baez and Bill Kreutzmann on stage. Kreutzmann played some percussion, as there were not two drum kits set up, and Joan played acoustic guitar and sang. She was popularly received by the crowd. I was not a Joan Baez fan, so I retired to a sort of ante-room where I could get a soft drink and relax. We could still hear the music in a muffled sort of way. Joan performed the song "Diamonds And Rust" and a few others.

After Joan Baez had played a few numbers with High Noon, the band left the stage for her solo performance. This was still more or less what I had expected.  I could still hear her from the room we were in, not well, but well enough to know if some surprise special guests were announced or something. Joan Baez is like cauliflower--appealing to some people and not to others. She plays basic songs in a very simple way that emphasizes her voice, which many people find lovely. She has a nice voice, in fact, but I feel she interprets a lot of songs the same way, so somehow a Bob Dylan song about nuclear war and a song about a farm dog end up sounding the same. Baez is not much of a guitar player, and her performances have a pretty static beat, with no reference to the swinging rhythms of the blues or even old-time folk music. Other people like her, however, and the crowd seemed to enjoy her solo performance.

Joan Baez and The Grateful Dead
After Baez finished her solo set, we worked our way back into the crowd in anticipation of the Dead's set. As expected, the Dead's acoustic configuration was being put in it's place, with a grand piano for Brent. There was an extra microphone up front, but I assumed that was in anticipation of a Joan Baez guest appearance--I was hoping for some Dylan songs. So it was quite a surprise when Joan and the Grateful Dead came out together. As a footnote, it was interesting to see Phil Lesh on bass, since John Kahn had played standup bass at the previous two acoustic Dead benefits that year. To my knowledge, the full Grateful Dead had not backed up their opening act since Bo Diddley on March 25, 1972, and this too was extremely rare.

Joan and the Dead launched into "Me And Bobby McGee," with Weir and Baez singing a duet. I recognized that it was a "first" in the sense that there hadn't been (to my knowledge) an acoustic version of the song, but it was a terrible version. Joan Baez was simply not enough of a guitar player to stay with the Dead, and she tethered their rhythmic interplay into a static clunk. Garcia took a tentative, miserable little solo, but I cheerily wrote it off to the usual startup hiccups. We had at least gotten a sort of first-time event, which meant there had been at least some kind of rehearsal. Anything could still happen, and that is what made Grateful Dead concerts exciting. My mind was already starting to sort through possible Bob Dylan songs.

It turned out that Joan Baez had been working on an original album, mostly featuring songs she had written, with the Grateful Dead as her backing band. The bulk of the acoustic set was six original Joan Baez songs. Baez, however, had made her fame as an interpreter of other people's songs, and had written relatively few herself. While I have always agreed with her political views--we Palo Altans stick together that way--didactic politics do not often make for good songs. Now and again someone like Joe Strummer can come along and write a successful "political" song ("turning rebellion into money"), but it is generally a failing enterprise. Suffice to say, Baez's songs were tendentious and clunky, lacking either tuneful hooks or insightful lyrics. You can look up the list yourself (on the archive), but there's a reason the album was shelved, even though the Grateful Dead played on it.

Worse than the dopey lyrics, however, were the simplicity of the songs and Baez's conventional strumming. The Grateful Dead knew how to accompany folk music, but to work their magic they need freedom to roam on the instrumental sections, and neither Baez's songs nor her playing allowed that. Bob Weir was accompanying her on vocals on many songs, and seemed to be enjoying himself, but Garcia and Brent seemed extremely frustrated by the music. Garcia's solos were lifeless and seemed to lead nowhere, and Brent's few stabs at participation seemed to add nothing. With three guitars, a bass and two drummers playing simple music, a grand piano seemed superflous and Brent seemed to know it.

After Baez played three of her own songs, she sang the old chestnut "Barbara Allen," but her painfully simple rhythm left no room for the Dead to accent it. Then Garcia and Weir joined her on the Everly Brothers classic "Bye Bye Love," but Garcia couldn't find a way to get in a good solo. This was followed by two more Baez songs that went nowhere. Garcia and Weir joined in for a version of Buddy Holly's "Oh Boy," yet another first, but it was another dry hole. Baez just doesn't have a feel for anything with a rhythm resembling blues or rock, and with her prominent vocal style, Garcia was left with no place to solo. It could be difficult to ascertain Garcia's mood based on his facial expression, but he seemed very frustrated and wasn't smiling, and this mood was reflected in the unhappy look on the face of the usually animated Brent Mydland.

Baez and the band started up yet another new song, entitled "Lady Di And I," and Garcia abruptly unstrapped his acoustic guitar and walked off on stage left, handing his guitar to a stone faced Steve Parrish as he disappeared behind the amps. No one on stage batted an eyelash or acknowledged Garcia's departure. I can't remember who soloed on "Lady Di And I." Weir and Baez duetted on Paul Simon's "The Boxer," and the group left the stage. At some point it had been made clear that the Grateful Dead were coming back to play an electric set, but Garcia's departure was mystifying. It didn't look planned. Was he ailing, or just frustrated at the unimpressive performance that he had just participated in?

I had seen Jerry quick to walk off stage as a drum solo began, but those often seemed to have as much to do with non-musical needs as anything else. Once I had seen a clearly ailing Garcia walk offstage after "Playing In The Band," only to have the Dead play most of "Passenger" without him (Stockton January 18, 1978), but Garcia and the boys were playing great that night, and Jerry came back strong after his little break.  We'd have to wait and see for the electric set to try and determine the reasons for Garcia's departure from the stage during the Joan Baez set.

The Grateful Dead
Fiesta Hall was a civic building, and while the vibe was relaxed, it was clear that the show was not going to go on forever. Since High Noon, Joan Baez and the acoustic Dead had all played sets, it seemed likely that the Dead would only do one electric set. Of course, single electric sets, while not unheard of, were also a departure from Grateful Dead orthodoxy, so once again there was an air of interesting uncertainty. For me, at least, this uncertainty was tempered with the possibility that Garcia was ailing, since I had never seen him walk off a stage so abruptly.

However, the Dead's crew quickly reconfigured the band for the electric set and the boys came out ready to rock. Matt Kelly was onstage to start the show, and Garcia rocked hard as they went into "New Minglewood Blues." The Dead essentially just played a modified first set for the electric portion of the show. There was no real jamming, and the set ended with a somewhat unique "Cold Rain And Snow">"Around And Around">"One More Saturday Night." Matt Kelly, himself a South Bay native (he grew up with Bob Weir in nearby Atherton), played harmonica on the first two numbers and the last two (he may not have been audible on "Saturday Night").

The grand piano remained on the stage from the acoustic set, so Brent played it on a few numbers. Normally the Dead did not have a grand piano on stage with Brent, so I think this was the only time he ever played a grand during an electric set. While not essential on its own terms, the main pleasure for me of seeing the Dead was watching the variations, so this was yet another detail that set the show apart. After a healthy 9-song, 50 minute electric set, the Grateful Dead left the stage, and the crowd started to cheer for the obligatory encore.

Encore: "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue"
Joan Baez and Bob Weir led the band back onto the stage for the encore. I believe there were the expected thank yous and exhortations from Baez, although I no longer recall specifically. I do specifically recall, however, that when they started up Bob Dylan's "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue," neither Garcia nor Brent Mydland was on the stage. Baez sang the song, with some help from Weir on the choruses, but only Weir, Lesh, Kreutzmann and Hart joined her on stage. I read this as confirmation that I wasn't imagining Garcia and Mydland's frustration with the music. Both of them seemed healthy and lively for the Dead's electric set, and didn't even come on stage for the encore.

I was extremely pleased that I had attended the show, but I didn't want to hear Joan Baez with the Grateful Dead again, and based on Jerry's and Brent's actions, it didn't seem like I would ever have to worry about it. How wrong I was.

Joan Baez and The Grateful Dead, Oakland Auditorium Arena, December 30, 1981
A few weeks later, the Dead began their 5-night stand at the Oakland Auditorium, leading up to New Year's Eve. The BGP deal at the time was that various surprise guests would typically join the Dead on New Year's Eve. Although we did not know it at the time, the surprise guest was going to be Joan Baez, and she made an unexpected guest appearance on Wednesday, December 30. The Dead had played a pretty good first set that night, but during the break the stage setup was reconfigured, a definite sign that something was up.

Joan Baez played a brief solo set, and there was a roar of recognition from the crowd. I did not join in, nor did I when the Dead joined her to start the second set,  This time, Brent was nowhere to be seen, and Garcia was playing electric, while Weir had switched to acoustic. Once again, this was a performance configuration unheard for a long time in the Grateful Dead universe (Weir on acoustic, no keyboards, last seen in 1970). Unfortunately, the band launched into a lifeless "Me And Bobby McGee." Garcia stared off into the middle distance, and took a brief, plodding solo that went nowhere. My friend (who shares my first name) flatly asserted "that was Garcia's worst guitar solo ever," and he may have been correct.

The Dec 30 set was mercifully brief, just six songs. "The Boxer" was bracketed by two new Joan Baez songs, and then they played the traditional folk classic "Merry Month Of May." This is a wonderful song, but she did it in her personal, Joan Baez style, leaving Jerry with no room to explore, and he just went through the motions. The set finished with another new Baez song (six songs total). It seemed all too clear that Baez would be a special guest on New Year's Eve.

Indeed she was. On New Year's Eve, after a brief, enjoyable set by The New Riders Of The Purple Sage, in itself historic because it turned out to be the last time they would open for the Dead, the crew set up the Dead's equipment in the Joan Baez configuration. My friend and I weren't prepared to suffer through this again, so we retired up to the bar. The third and final Joan Baez set was the only time I skipped out on a Dead or Garcia set by going to the bar. The music was audible up there--there may have even been video--but we talked about The Who or something while we waited it out (for the record, the set was six songs: "Me And Bobby McGee", "Bye Bye Love", three new songs and the traditional "On The Banks Of The Ohio").

In retrospect, a deal was probably struck where the Grateful Dead would play the Dance For Nuclear Disarmament show in return for a guest appearance by Joan Baez on New Year's Eve. Since the Dead had been recording with her, relations were probably initially good. Once the San Mateo show had taken place, the band was probably committed, and anyway, since Joan and Mickey were dating, the non-confrontational Dead were just going to suffer through it. Sometime in 1982, Joan and Mickey broke up, the album was shelved and everyone more or less forgot about the collaboration. The tapes for Dec 30 and 31 don't appear on the Archive, and it's probably just as well, although if you listen to the final "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue" on December 31, Joan sings the song and Garcia and Brent were once again not on stage, presumably both in Limos heading onto Interstate 980 towards the Richmond Bridge. It's hard not to draw a conclusion from that.


A Worthwhile Result
For me, the experience of seeing the Grateful Dead was expressed in a series of remarkable moments. Those moments, sometimes rare and sometimes voluminous, were the product of expectations and assumptions, so often an event that may have been mundane in retrospect were still quite powerful at the time. Retrospective Deadhead scholarship, like this blog, has its place, but that is quite different than the sudden arrival of the unexpected moment that supercharges an event. Although  I felt that the Joan Baez/Grateful Dead collaboration was a true musical low point for the band, it still resulted in one of my best Grateful Dead concert moments.

After the opening set on December 30, I was relieved that the Joan Baez episode was over for the night. Weir quickly handed off his acoustic guitar and strapped on his Ibanez, but Brent was nowhere in sight. He had not been onstage for the Joan Baez set, and perhaps there was no pre-arranged signal for him to know when to return. Nonetheless, Weir counted off "Feel Like A Stranger," and the Dead launched into the second set proper.

Perhaps the band thought Brent was onstage, but in any case they didn't pause. Of course, I had never heard "Feel Like A Stranger" without keyboards. Amazingly, Phil Lesh planted his feet and played a thunderous Jack Casady style bass riff, filling the empty hole created by Brent's absence. The song took on a different, lively sound as a five piece, with Phil effectively acting as a lead instrument. It wasn't that I wanted Brent to leave the band, but suddenly after a very poor, unimaginative set I was hearing the Dead at their most inventive best. The sudden inversion from low to high had an electrifying effect on me, and that justified the whole evening.

As the Dead got near the end of "Stranger" and Brent still hadn't appeared, it crossed my mind that the call-and-response vocal part at the end would have to be dispensed with. When the band got to the outro, and Weir sang "Gonna be a long hot, silky, silky night," Jerry himself stepped up to the mike and sang Brent's part in answer. The crowd erupted, so I wasn't the only person who was thinking this.  Happily, although it wasn't a particularly great night, my clearest memory wasn't the flat set with Joan Baez (and Jerry's "worst guitar solo ever"), but the huge burst of energy from Phil's hot bass run and Garcia's surprise vocal intervention. Brent returned for the next song, and the rest of the set was enjoyable but unspectacular, but I'd already had the moment that made the night worthwhile.

April 4, 1976 Page Auditorium, Duke University, Durham, NC: Jerry Garcia Band

( the entrance of Page Auditorium at Duke University by night--photo February 11, 2011)

The Grateful Dead were one of the first bands to define the modern rock touring circuit beyond the confines of California. Groups like the Dead, Jefferson Airplane, Canned Heat and Iron Butterfly crisscrossed America with their amplifiers and light shows, carving out a path for future rock and rollers in old dance halls, Municipal Auditoriums and College gymnasiums. Although many of the venues they played became bigger and newer as time marched forward, groups like the Dead helped create those rock markets one concert at a time.

As the Dead got larger in the 1970s and expanded their reach, a peculiar pattern emerged. Jerry Garcia started to tour with his own aggregations, and to a large extent Garcia climbed the same ladder the Dead had built, playing smaller places in familiar territory. As Garcia became an attraction in his own right, the venues got larger and the territory got wider. However, Jerry Garcia's early National tours are surprisingly thinly documented, just as the early days of the Dead were. Often tapes circulate, but little is known about the actual concerts and the circumstances surrounding them. One such "lost" show was the Jerry Garcia Band appearance at tiny Page Auditorium at Duke University, in Durham, North Carolina on April 4, 1976. Although tapes of both the early and late shows have endured, almost nothing else seems to be known about this evening. This post will look at the Page Auditorium show as an indicator of how the Garcia Band was replicating the Grateful Dead's touring strategy of the early 70s, and will speculate on just how much the Duke show was at the outer frontiers in long ago 1976 (update: amazingly, a Commenter has discovered that this show was videotaped by the student-run TV station, and remains archived in the Duke library. I wonder if the video has been seen since it was shot?)

Duke University and Durham, North Carolina
Washington Duke and his family became staggeringly wealthy through the ownership of American Tobacco. The operation was centered in Durham, NC, a city invented in the 1850s as an intersection point for several railroads. With American Tobacco as the centerpiece, Durham was an important financial and industrial city in the late 19th and early 20th century. The Duke family invested heavily in textiles to make cotton bags for their tobacco, and in turn invested in electric power to drive the mills (Duke Energy is a direct corporate descendant), and they had a wide corporate reach in other industries as well.

Washington Duke had encouraged Trinity University to relocate from rural Randolph County to Durham in 1892. In 1924, his son endowed a substantial amount of money to the school, and the institution changed its name to Duke University. Thus Durham, American Tobacco and Duke University were always intimately connected. However, various factors, including anti-trust laws and the Depression caused American Tobacco and Durham to decline in importance from the 1930s onward. Durham entered a long, slow decline. While Duke University still had considerable resources, the school was far out of the mainstream for many years.

In the 21st century, Durham is one corner of the Raleigh-Durham-Chapel Hill "Triangle," and a linchpin of Research Triangle Park, the Silicon Valley of the New South. Durham promotes itself as "The City Of Medicine," downtown Durham is new and exciting and the region is a desirable destination for relocating Northerners who like organic food. Duke University is a high profile school, with so many students from the Northeast that t-shirts around town say "Duke: The University of Southern New Jersey at Durham" and everyone gets the joke. Duke's aged basketball pavilion, Cameron Indoor Stadium, is a national shrine to the fabled Duke-UNC basketball rivalry, which in itself is a National event.

On October 15, 2010, Duke University hosted a performance of The American Beauty Project tour at Page Auditorium, where various musicians performed songs from Workingman's Dead and American Beauty. None of the pre-show publicity--and there was plenty--mentioned that Jerry Garcia had played the same auditorium 34 years earlier. For a region obsessed with it's own history, such an oversight was surprising. I believe the failure by Duke Performances to refer to the Garcia show at Duke was more simple--no one recalled it, because everyone who went to it has since moved on, and no one else even noticed. In one way, it's almost as if the show happened in an alternate universe, and perhaps in a way it did.

Grateful Dead Touring History 1968-74
The Grateful Dead were a commercial entity as well as an artistic one, even if their initial business model was closer to an 18th century pirate ship than a 20th century entertainer. Nonetheless, since the band made more money touring than recording in the early days, they had to find ways to tour profitably. The group's basic strategy was to perform in places where they were already popular while also taking the time to play smaller and financially riskier shows in places where they were less known, in order to create an audience.The Dead's initial strongholds were the West Coast and major Northeastern cities. Since their equipment mostly traveled by truck, however, the band tended to expand their territory across the county in order to effectively pay for their travel. This in turn created new markets for the band.

The Dead connected the two coasts by traveling along Highway 80, from Utah to Chicago and from Chicago to New York. While they played a fair share of cities not on Highway 80 itself, such as Denver, those cities were located in such a place that they could still follow the path to and from Chicago and New York fairly easily. In so doing, the Dead were replicating the route of the Transcontinental Railroad, whose principal arteries were the Southern Pacific route (from San Francisco to Utah), the Union Pacific (Utah to Chicago) and the New York Central (from Chicago to New York). The pattern of following the railroad is not at all a coincidence, but this Braudelian analysis is the subject of a different line of research. The Dead's only other transcontinental route was in the Southwest, from Los Angeles to Arizona and Texas, and then to New Orleans and Florida. However, this route (mostly following a different Southern Pacific route from Menlo Park to New Orleans) terminated in the Gulf of Mexico, forcing the band to fly North or return home.

As the Dead expanded their footholds in the early 1970s, they got farther and farther from Highway 80, but they were still financially tied to their most profitable touring destinations in major Northeastern cities. By the early 1970s, the Dead had started to work their way down I-95 and I-64, playing shows in Washington, DC, Williamsburg, VA and even once in Roanoke, VA (July 27 '74). By the 1980s, the state of Virginia was usually an essential tour stop for the Dead, but the band was still carving out the territory by playing small places in the early 1970s.

By and large, however, the Dead's 70s fanbase was in not in the South. Whether or not the South of the 60s would have been friendly to the Dead--probably not--is a moot point, since the Dead rarely got near enough to make an attempt. The Dead did play a rock festival at the Duke University football stadium (Wallace Wade) with the Beach Boys on April 24, 1971, but they were clearly flown in for that, without their sound system in tow, so it was not part of any plan.

The one real Grateful Dead outpost in the South was the city of Atlanta. The Dead had flown there to play a free concert in Atlanta on July 6, 1969, and this gesture seems not to have been forgotten in Atlanta. Atlanta was probably one of the most productive instances of the Dead's willingness to play for free creating a paying audience. The Dead regularly played Atlanta throughout their entire career, in relatively large places. However, as I have pointed out numerous times, playing a show in a distant place often requires a show in between. As a result, a major show in Atlanta at the Omni, on December 12, 1973, presaged two shows in North Carolina, at Cameron Indoor Stadium at Duke on December 8 and at Charlotte Coliseum on December 10. Since the prior show was in Cleveland in December 6, a brief glance at a map shows that North Carolina shows were prudent stops even if they didn't make financial sense. The Dead would return to North Carolina in 1976 (Sep 23 at Cameron Indoor) and steadily built the territory thereafter, expanding their Southeastern audience to the state.

Jerry Garcia National Tours
Although Jerry Garcia's first East Coast shows without the Dead were as a guest with Howard Wales, surprisingly enough his first real National tour was with Old And In The Way in the Summer of 1973. As JGMF has shown, Old And In The Way were actually booked at a bluegrass festival at Camp Springs, NC on September 1 or 2, 1973, 50 miles Northwest of Durham. However, fascinating as this must have been, while Garcia's name was advertised, the Bluegrass Festival would not have had the impact of a Garcia/Saunders performance. Exactly what kind of impact it did have remains unknown, but there is some hints that noisy hippies coming to see Garcia did not fit at bluegrass festivals (update: in any case, JGMF comments that Old And In The Way were advertised, but did not appear to have played).

When Garcia started to tour outside of California with his own bands, he followed the pattern established by the Dead. Most of the earliest shows in 1973 and 1974 were in the Northeast, in places like New York City. When the Dead went on hiatus and the touring got more serious, Garcia and Saunders generally stuck near to Highway 80. The one really striking exception to this was a three night stand at the Great Southeast Music Hall in Atlanta, where the Legion Of Mary played three nights (two shows each) from April 15-17, 1975. Given that the group clearly flew to the shows, they must have been profitable indeed.

By early 1976, Garcia had consciously commercialized his touring, as he needed the cash flow. His group was now named after himself, and he had a new album to promote (Reflections). While his Spring 1976 tour bounced around the Country, Garcia generally seemed to be sticking to places where a big following had been established. Garcia himself was a true rock star, but he had no real following as a solo performer, and he was hardly assured of sellouts in all but the most familiar places. Thus it is not surprising that the last show on the April '76 leg of the tour was April 5 at the Fox Theater in Atlanta. There's every reason to think the Atlanta show was a relatively lucrative booking.

Since the JGB were playing Saturday, April 3 in Washington, DC, touring economics would recommend a show, any show, on Sunday April 4, at a place between DC and Atlanta. Durham is the approximate midway point between the two cities, conveniently located on I-85, just three hours South of Richmond. Which is how, I am fairly certain, the Jerry Garcia Band came to be playing two shows in sleepy Durham, NC on a Sunday night, in a tiny college auditorium. Not because there was a big audience, or any distinct desire to play there, but the band needed a gig and Duke University was conveniently located. Durham was nowhere then, with tobacco long declined, no minor league baseball team (the new Durham Bulls would not move there until 1980) and--whatever anyone tells you--no meaningful rivalry with the University of North Carolina basketball team (don't get me started--Dick Vitale and ESPN largely invented the rivalry in the early '80s).

 ( a view of the Page Auditorium stage from the lower balcony, stage right, February 11, 2011. The equipment was set up for the Wayne Shorter Quartet [who were epic, by the way, but that is for a different blog])

April 4, 1976 Page Auditorium, Duke University, Durham, NC: Jerry Garcia Band
All Page Auditorium shows are campus sponsored, so students would have gotten in very cheaply. In fact, the show may have been tied to some campus event. Duke University has never lacked for funds, so whatever the math of the attendance (1232 seats turned over twice), Garcia's fee may have been supplemented by University funds. Most of the people in attendance were probably Duke students, happy enough to see a rock star, but probably happy enough to have something to do on a Sunday night, and I doubt most of them were any kind of Deadhead (at least beforehand). Probably a few outsiders got in, since we do have a tape, but I suspect the fact that there are no known press reports or advertisements suggests that the Garcia Band show was a Duke event, not really directed at the community.

Page Auditorium is a very narrow, deep building, with a steep balcony covering most of the main floor seats. The rows are only 30 seats wide, however, and with the very high ceiling the building has a very intimate feel. The building seems to have been built in the 1930s or so, and is more reminiscent of a church than a dry modern auditorium or a converted music theater. It's a great place to see anyone, with a great sound to the room, and the Jerry Garcia Band must have lifted that place into orbit

A bunch of Duke students probably had a great time on April 4, 1976, and a bunch of other ones probably had at least a memorable one (not counting those with no memories at all). However, they all graduated (I hope), and Duke students rarely stick around Durham, certainly not in those days. Thus somewhere out there in America are some Duke students with warm, if fuzzy memories of seeing the Jerry Garcia Band in a tiny campus auditorium. However, they aren't around Durham anymore, so there is no local memory of the show, and indeed no National memory either. Durham is a different place now, more than willing to celebrate the music of Jerry Garcia, not realizing he already passed through, one Sunday night long ago.

Jerry Garcia and Keystone Shows Overview

(a newspaper ad from late January 1980 for the Keystone family of clubs: Keystone Berkeley, Keystone Palo Alto and The Stone. Note that Jerry Garcia Band shows are listed as "Jerry Garcia")

In a recent post, I discussed at length Jerry Garcia's unique and lengthy professional relationship with the Keystone Berkeley. Over the course of 12 years (1972-84), Garcia played the club at University and Shattuck Avenues an amazing 206 times, in numerous different aggregations. Uniquely, Keystone Berkeley shows never had advance tickets, and often didn't sell out, so Garcia managed to retain one place where he was just another local player, even after he was a worldwide rock star.

The Keystone Berkeley was owned and managed by partners Freddie Herrera and Bobby Corona. Bobby Corona's son (Bobby Corona Jr.) was also an important part of the partnership. John Kahn had played regularly with Mike Bloomfield at the Keystone Korner, a San Francisco club founded by Herrera. I believe Kahn's connection to Herrera was instrumental in getting Garcia to switch his "home base" to the Keystone Korner in 1971, after The Matrix (his prior base) closed. However, Garcia's commitment to working with Herrera and his partners extended for another 16 years. It must have been no casual thing, and yet that relationship was never publicly discussed by Garcia, to my knowledge.

Not only was Garcia a mainstay of the Keystone Berkeley, but at various times the Herrera/Corona team operated 4 different clubs, and Garcia played steadily in all of them. On top of that, and more significantly, after 1972, when the Keystones had a club in a city, with few exceptions Garcia generally did not play other venues in or near that city. The Grateful Dead were a separate business entity from the Jerry Garcia Band, and that restriction did not apply to the Dead, and there were occasional exceptions for Garcia, but most of those exceptions involved benefits rather than competing clubs. The particular significance of Garcia's loyalty is that his commitment to Herrera and the Coronas meant that he generally did not play for Bill Graham in cities where there was a Keystone. Bill Graham Presents was the dominant promoter in the Bay Area, and Graham and Garcia were personal friends, but Garcia's pattern of performances demonstrates an unmistakable commitment to Graham's competitors.

Let me say at the outset of this analysis that I am not suggesting some secret animosity between Graham and Garcia, or shadowy dealings with the Keystone owners. However, while Bill Graham is rightly revered as a key figure in San Francisco rock, and his business relationship to the Grateful Dead was an essential part of their story, the Jerry Garcia Band and Garcia's associated ventures were a distinct entity. Garcia and his manager Richard Loren obviously found a comfortable niche in their original setup with the Keystone Berkeley, and seemed to have felt it served their ends better. This, too, seems to have been a business decision, but at the very least it shows that Garcia's relationship with Bill Graham was considerably more nuanced than it may have appeared from the outside.

Overview of Garcia Keystone Performances
The breadth of Garcia's relationship to the Keystones can be seen by the number of performances he made for them (note: I have not reconciled these counts with disputed shows, etc, and your own exact count may vary).

Keystone Korner, 750 Vallejo Street, San Francisco
First and Last Garcia shows: April 1, 1971 (Garcia-Saunders)>July 8, 1972 (Garcia-Saunders)
Total Garcia Performances: 40
Bands: Garcia-Saunders, New Riders of The Purple Sage
Note: the last Garcia-Saunders shows at Keystone Korner (July 7-8, '72) were actually played for Todd Barkan, who had bought the club from Freddie Herrera. The show was previously booked, and Barkan honored the date.

Keystone Berkeley, 2119 University, Berkeley
First and Last Garcia Shows: March 8, 1972 (Garcia-Saunders)>March 22, 1984 (JGB)
Total Garcia Performances: 206
Bands: Garcia-Saunders,  Old And In The Way, Great American String Band, Legion Of Mary, Jerry Garcia Band, Reconstruction
Other Dead spinoffs who played there: Kingfish (70s), Keith and Donna, Toulousse To Truck, Robert Hunter and Comfort, Bob Weir Band, Robert Hunter, Bobby And The Midnites, Healy-Treece Band, High Noon, Bill Kreutzmann's All-Stars
Note 1: Garcia-Saunders played 4 shows at the venue in June, 1971 (Jun4>June 27) when it was still called The New Monk. The shows were probably booked by Freddie Herrera, who bought the club a few months later.
Note 2: There was a Keith and Donna show at Keystone Berkeley on August 18, 1975 that may have featured Garcia, which I have not counted in the totals.

(a scan of the newspaper ad for the Keystone Berkeley and Keystone Palo Alto, just before The Stone opened. Note the wide variety of acts at the two clubs)

Keystone Palo Alto, 260 S. California Avenue, Palo Alto
First and Last Garcia Shows: January 23, 1977 (JGB)>May 19, 1986 (Garcia and Kahn)
Total Garcia Performances: 76
Bands: Jerry Garcia Band, Reconstruction, Jerry Garcia and John Kahn
Other Dead spinoffs who played there: Robert Hunter and Comfort, Bob Weir Band, Bobby and The Midnites, High Noon, Dinosaurs, Bill Kreutzmann's All-Stars, Kingfish (80s), Kokomo
Note: Legion of Mary and JGB played 7 shows at the venue during 1975-76 when it was called Sophie's (Jan 23 '75>Nov 16 '76).

The Stone, 412 Broadway, San Francisco
First and Last Garcia Shows: February 1, 1980 (JGB)>May 31, 1987 (JGB)
Total Garcia Performances: 92
Bands: Jerry Garcia Band, Jerry Garcia and John Kahn
Other Dead spinoffs who played there: Bobby and The Midnites, Kingfish (80s), Nightfood w/Bob Weir, High Noon, Bill Kreutzmann's All-Stars
Note: for at least the last year or two of the Stone and Keystone Palo Alto, advance tickets were available for the shows, unlike at Keystone Berkeley

Keystone Family Totals
First and Last Garcia Shows: April 1, 1971 (Keystone Korner)>March 10, 1987 (The Stone)
Total Garcia Performances: 410
Bands: Garcia-Saunders, New Riders of The Purple Sage, Old And In The Way, Great American String Band, Legion Of Mary, Jerry Garcia Band, Reconstruction, Jerry Garcia and John Kahn
Notes: There were 10 additional Garcia performances at these venues (New Monk and Sophie's).

It's revealing to compare these numbers to the only comparable Garcia venue, The Warfield. The Warfield, at 982 Market Street in San Francisco, had originally been called The Fox-Warfield when Bill Graham started putting on shows there in 1979. The Grateful Dead had a famous 15-night stand there in September and October 1980. At the time, the Fox-Warfield was a restored theater from the 1930s, with 2,200 reserved seats on a main floor and a balcony. The Warfield was in a very seedy part of the City, however, and the rock market expanded beyond such a small place. After a 1983 Rex Benefit, the Dead were simply too large for the room.

The Jerry Garcia Band did play a show at the Fox-Warfield, on June 26, 1981, and that event is worthy of a post in itself. The show was sold out, or close to it, and it was a regular Bill Graham show, so it demonstrated that the Jerry Garcia Band could have done a lucrative business with BGP had he so chosen. While it's true that Garcia might have preferred the frequency of shows at the Keystone, the Warfield was only used on weekends, and not all of those, so he could have played as many dates at the Fox-Warfield as he wanted. In about 1982, BGP took over San Francisco's leading rock nightclub, The Old Waldorf--it, too, another story--and while Garcia played a couple of shows to inaugurate the takeover (Jan 11 & 13 '82), he promptly returned to The Stone.

The Jerry Garcia Band did not return to the Warfield until late 1987, after The Stone had closed (Garcia, Weir and Mickey Hart had played a benefit for Jane Dornacker at The Warfield on November 22, 1986). (update: I had this wrong. Herrera and the Coronas operated The Stone until 1989, but it seemed that the combined pressures of the Dead's expanding popularity and Jerry's iffy health, the permanent availability of the Warfield trumped The Stone). With the Keystone family closed for good, and the Grateful Dead bigger than ever, Garcia started to play regularly for Bill Graham, both in the Bay Area and around Northern California. Garcia played a few shows at the Warfield in the late 1980s, but once the 90s beckoned the remodeled and renamed Warfield became the new home base for the Jerry Garcia Band.

By my count, Jerry Garcia played 99 shows at The Warfield between 1981 and 1995. 90 of them were from 1990 onward. By 1990, the Warfield had changed significantly as a venue. At some point in the 1980s, Graham had lost the lease to a European group who wanted to open a Euro-style disco nightclub there. They sunk a significant amount of money into the club, which immediately bombed, and Graham took over the lease again, benefiting from their upgrades and re-naming the club "The Warfield" (as opposed to Fox-Warfield). Only complete trainspotters like me ever called it "The Fox Warfield" anyway.

The most significant difference between the 90s Warfield and the early 80s Fox Warfield was the main floor. The balcony still had comfortable reserved seats with nice sightlines, but the main floor had a dance floor near the stage and rows and rows of tables and barstools on raised platforms in the back. All of these changes were designed to insure that the Warfield made its money at the bar rather than exclusively on ticket sales. The tendency of Jerry Garcia Band fans to show up early, along with the tendency of Garcia to start late and take long breaks, all made for excellent bar receipts. Garcia and the Dead were huge by the 1990s, and they could hardly have played a club without causing a ruckus, so the Warfield was as small a place as they could manage. The economics of the Keystone were in play again, with a more relaxed setup that encouraged hanging out, in a still-seedy part of town where Deadheads actually improved the neighborhood.

Even so, Garcia's 99 shows at the Warfield is less than half of what he played at Keystone Berkeley, and a quarter of what he played for the Keystone family. Without trying to count every show, I would speculate that Garcia played 200-250 shows for Bill Graham Presents (including the Warfield), and he played 410 for the Keystone, so it's hard not draw the conclusion that Garcia's personal and business interests were well served by the Keystones. Based on the Jerrysite's total of 1624 shows, fully one quarter of Garcia's shows were at Keystone family clubs. Of course, the Dead played 400-500 shows for Bill Graham, but they were a separate business entity with separate needs and musical goals.

The Warfield, 982 Market St, San Francisco
First and Last Garcia Shows: June 26, 1981 (JGB)>April 23, 1995 (JGB)
Total Garcia Performances: 99
Bands: Jerry Garcia Band, Jerry Garcia, Bob Weir and Mickey Hart, Jerry Garcia and Bob Weir, Jerry Garcia Acoustic Band, Jerry Garcia and David Grisman

Jerry Garcia expended considerable effort to make sure that the Jerry Garcia Band was a thriving musical entity. The Grateful Dead were a full time obligation, and yet Garcia kept up a huge touring schedule with the Garcia Band, and other occasional side projects, year after year. A cursory analysis of these statistics suggests that the Garcia Band would not have been viable without a home base, initially the Keystone Berkeley, then the Keystone clubs as a whole, and ultimately the Warfield. Many musicians had spent years working the same clubs until they got famous, and Garcia bore the rare distinction of playing the same clubs after he became famous.

I would be surprised if there were another major rock star who had played the same venue 99 times after he was famous, and I feel confident that there were none who played the same venue 206 times after they no longer "had to." Art and Commerce are always in conflict and in cooperation, and Garcia's need for a home base in his own endeavors was crucial both for his financial well-being and his musical goals, and it remains a largely unexamined part of his legacy.

2119 University Avenue, Berkeley, CA: The Keystone Berkeley

(a photo of 2119 University Avenue [at Shattuck] in Berkeley as it looked in 2009. Only the arches hint at the structure of the Keystone Berkeley club that was located at the site 15 years earlier. If you can still see the outlines of the Jimi Hendrix mural around the entrance, you may need medical attention)

Recent discussions on the vagueness of Jerry Garcia Band history in the late 70s and early 80s has reminded me of the unique relationship between Jerry Garcia and the Keystone Berkeley. I am only able to discern parts of the story, but the facts as they can be seen are quite remarkable. People who were not attending Garcia Band shows in the 70s and early 80s may not realize what an unprecedented arrangement Garcia and his various aggregations seemed to have with the Keystone Berkeley. To outline some of the key points that I will illuminate in my post:

• Jerry Garcia played the Keystone Berkeley 206 times between 1972 and 1984, a number that dwarfs any other venue he played at in any configuration
• Garcia shows at the Keystone almost never sold tickets in advance--they were available day of show only, in a venue that officially held about 500 people
• Paradoxically, Garcia shows at the Keystone were almost never sold out, in my experience, anyway. You would see people buying tickets and getting in well after the show had started
• Garcia never came on stage until after 11:00 pm, usually well after 11:00 pm, and shows ran right up until 2:00 am (last call), making for very late weeknights

Planning to see a Keystone Berkeley show was often fruitless, as shows were often canceled, added or re-scheduled with regularity--one of the attractions to the club and Garcia of not having any advance tickets that would need refunding. The band also came on so late that the next day was a write-off, and it was rarely a weekend, so that often at 11:00pm on a cold Tuesday the idea of staying up til 3:00am just seemed like too much, or no one would go with you, or your car was out of gas, or whatever. Missing a JGB Keystone show wasn't a big deal, however, since the Garcia Band would usually be back the next month.

On the other hand, one Sunday night--May 24, 1981, as it happened-- my roommate and I were sitting around at 11:00pm, talking about the Dead, and I mentioned that Garcia was playing Keystone. My roommate said "are there tickets?" I said, there's always tickets, and off we went. 10 minutes later we found a good parking space near Shattuck and University, paid our money at the door, and there we were. Shortly after we arrived, the band made its way on stage and Jerry kicked it off with "Sugaree," which made for a lot better Sunday night than watching re-runs of "MASH."

Jerry Garcia had achieved rock star status by 1967, and by the mid-70s he was starting to achieve some of the material rewards that went along with it. Yet when Garcia played the Keystone Berkeley, he was just another local guy playing a dive--and trust me, it was a dive--and the crowd happened to be whatever yahoos were able to blow off work or school the next day. That's the reason that every Keystone tape has that laid-back, drifting feel where time seemed to have no meaning. If time had meaning to you, Deadhead or not, you weren't at Keystone Berkeley drinking beer at midnight on a Tuesday waiting for Jerry to come on stage.

The Keystone Berkeley was a sawdust covered dump in a sketchy area of town that sold overpriced, watered down beer to a crowd of doubtful lunatics who were never going to be employee of the month, if they even had jobs. God, I miss it.

Keystone History, Part 1: The Keystone Korner
Freddie Herrera opened a club called the Keystone Korner at 750 Vallejo Street in San Francisco. The club was just a few blocks off of the "entertainment" district on Broadway. It had previously been a rock club called DenoCarlo's, and various local bands had played there in  1968, including a regular Monday night residency for Berkeley's Creedence Clearwater Revival. Herrera took over the club in 1969 and tried to make it into a topless dancing place, but it was too far from Broadway to capture the tourists and sailors. Fortuitously, Nick Gravenites wandered in, and he was looking for a club that he could use for various ends.

As a result, starting in mid-1969, The Keystone Korner became a rock club, often featuring various expatriate Chicagoans who had relocated to San Francisco, including Mike Bloomfield and Elvin Bishop. Bloomfield and Gravenites played there almost every other weekend from September 1969 through March 1970, and the little venue was sort of like their clubhouse. The first call bass player for the Bloomfield/Gravenites band was John Kahn, which I believe to be an important part of the story.

The Matrix
The first "hippie nightclub" in San Francisco was The Matrix, at 3138 Fillmore. It was actually a beer and pizza joint that didn't allow dancing (by law), but it was a place for longhairs to hang out while local bands played whatever they felt like playing. A lot of cool 60s San Francisco bands played The Matrix, particularly on weeknights. Jerry Garcia took to jamming there regularly, and the basis of what became the Jerry Garcia Band started as a regular Monday night jam session at the Matrix in early 1970. Garcia, Howard Wales, Bill Vitt and John Kahn made up the regular crew, and after Wales ultimately left and was replaced by Merl Saunders, that "group" started to play out a little bit. Nonetheless, the Matrix was the original home base of the Garcia/Saunders group, just as Bloomfield and Gravenites anchored the Keystone Korner.

However, in Spring 1971, the Matrix closed. Garcia and Saunders would need another place to call home, and they seem to have chosen Keystone Korner. The first Garcia/Saunders Keystone Korner show was April 1, 1971, but their first extended run was in May 1971, after the Matrix had closed. Bloomfield and Gravenites had largely stopped playing Keystone Korner by this time. I have to think John Kahn's familiarity with the club may have been in a factor in encouraging Garcia and Saunders to play there regularly.

Keystone History, Part 2: The New Monk
In the 60s, there was an infamous beer joint in Berkeley popular with fraternity boys called The Monkey Inn, known as "The Monk," and located on 3109 Shattuck, between Prince and Woolsey (the site today seems to be the La Pena Cultural Center at 3105, just next to the Starry Plough at 3101). In 1968, the place moved closer to campus, to the corner of University and Shattuck Avenues. The new club at 2119 University was called The New Monk. It had local rock bands headlining on weekends, but most of the time it was just a beer and pizza place for college students.

In the middle of 1971, however, The New Monk started booking higher profile club bands. Jerry Garcia and Merl Saunders played there on June 4 and 5, 1971, and then again on June 26 and June 27. At the end of August, Keystone owner Freddie Herrera officially announced that he would be buying the New Monk. It's my belief that Herrera had been booking the New Monk already for some months. Garcia played Keystone Korner 20 times in 1971, so clearly it was the preferred venue, but Herrera's takeover of The New Monk put it on Garcia's radar..


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Keystone History, Part 3-The Keystone Berkeley
Herrera ran both the Keystone Korner and The New Monk throughout 1971. In March, 1972, the New Monk changed it's name to Keystone Berkeley, to distinguish it from Keystone Korner in San Francisco. The first Keystone Berkeley show I have been able to find was March 2, 1972, with the Sons Of Champlin. The first Garcia/Saunders show at Keystone Berkeley was soon after that, on March 8, 1972.

Garcia/Saunders played Keystone Korner 19 times in 1972. However, in July of '72, Herrera sold the Keystone Korner to Todd Barkan (former pianist for Kwane and The Kwanditos), who turned it into a jazz club. Garcia and Saunders did play two dates for Barkan on July 7-8, 1972, that had been previously scheduled, but from the Summer of '72 onwards the Keystone Berkeley was Garcia's go-to choice for casual gigs with all his side bands, and he played a dozen shows there in 1972. Other Dead spinoff groups played there as well, particularly during the 1974-76 period.

(The March 1974 Keystone Berkeley calendar)
A Note On The Name
The New Monk was re-named the Keystone Berkeley in March 1972 to distinguish it from the Keystone Korner. At some point in the mid-70s, the name was changed to The Keystone, since Keystone Korner had no connection to it, and in any case didn't book rock acts. However, everyone called it "the Keystone, in Berkeley," or just "Keystone Berkeley" but strictly speaking it was "The Keystone."

Of course, in early 1977 Herrera and his partner Bobby Corona opened the Keystone Palo Alto (about which more below), and the official name of the Berkeley club reverted to Keystone Berkeley.

Keystone History, Part 4-Keystone Palo Alto and The Stone
The Keystone Berkeley was one of the leading rock clubs in the Bay Area. However, the sort of band who could headline the Keystone on a weekend was about at the level to be 2nd or 3rd on the bill at a Bill Graham show. There was intense competition between Bill Graham Presents and Keystone for acts, and much accusations were thrown about, usually directed at BGP for threatening not to book acts, etc. Generally speaking, however, acts that played Keystone did not play Graham shows and vice-versa, or not in the same year, anyway. The Jerry Garcia Band was a complicated exception, but in the mid-70s at least Garcia did not often play BGP shows.

Good bands played Keystone Berkeley, but they were generally on their way up or their way down. When they were hot, they played for Graham. A lot of Bay Area heavyweights played Keystone between record deals or else just as they were getting their new band together, looking to graduate. Garcia's part-time status was unique, essentially, to Garcia, but it must have frustrated Bill Graham no end.

In early 1977, Herrera and his partner Bobby Corona took over a club called Sophie's, at 260 S. California Avenue in Palo Alto, and re-named it the Keystone Palo Alto. The Jerry Garcia Band had already played Sophie's 7 times (in various incarnations) in 1975-76. Keystone Palo Alto allowed Corona and Herrera to book acts for two nights rather than one, and made them a better competitor to Graham. In 1980, Corona and Herrera opened The Stone in San Francisco, at 412 Broadway, and this allowed them to book touring bands for three nights, making them direct competitors to the Bill Graham hegemony (I have written about the rock history of 412 Broadway elsewhere).

Once Keystone Palo Alto and The Stone opened, Garcia could spread his shows out amongst the three clubs. Every few months, he typically would play one night at each club over three consecutive nights, but this would vary based on which acts were playing the three clubs. If there was a popular act playing one of the other clubs on a certain night, Garcia would sometime play an extra night at a different club (e.g., if Tower of Power was booked at Keystone Palo Alto on a weeknight, Garcia would play two nights at The Stone instead of one in Palo Alto). As far as I know, both Keystone Palo Alto and The Stone stuck to the pattern of only offering Garcia tickets on the day of the show and starting at 11:00 pm or later (I have seen a Keystone Palo Alto ticket stub from 1985, so Palo Alto--typically-may have had it's own arrangement).

An Economic Assessment of Jerry Garcia at the Keystone Berkeley
The Keystone Berkeley was an economic entity designed to sell beer. Technically, it was a restaurant, which by California law meant that it had to serve food but could then also serve beer and wine. I guess a few people bought fries or Chardonnay, but basically the Keystone sold beer on draft, by the gallon. The club was open six or seven nights a week, even when only local bands played for a dollar cover charge. There were usually two acts, and they often played two sets each, as far as I know, in order to extend the evening. Bigger acts had tickets available in advance, but the Keystone was more oriented towards getting people to wander in and hang out and listen to music, drinking beer the whole time. Once, for example (On Oct 6 '83) I saw the latterday New Riders for free at Keystone Berkeley, with the provision that you had to buy two beers (which you paid for at the door in return for drink tickets). That was a pretty clear assessment of where the money was.

The odd set up of Garcia shows at Keystone Berkeley makes perfect sense when considered from the point of view of beer sales. People would line up at Keystone Berkeley for the day's show starting in the morning. Why, I don't know, since everyone usually got in, but Berkeley was tolerant and a lot of people had come from far away. In any case, the doors would open at 7:00 pm or something, and the drinking would begin immediately. I think there were a few tables in the tiny balcony behind the soundboard, and some benches around the sides of the main floor, so perhaps these were desirable, but the point was that Jerry attracted a crowd that came early and liked to party.

Since everyone was drinking beer and not the harder stuff, and there was some food, the crowd at the Keystone was always pretty drunk, but not totally gone. Of course, for a Garcia show some other substances dominated, but in any case with no Whisky or Tequila in play, the whole thing was manageable in a rowdy sort of way. There was always an opening act, usually a solo guitarist type, keeping the patrons entertained while they drank. In the later years, they were usually local blues or folk guitarists (like Steve Hayton [sp] or Mike Henderson), but they never seemed worth getting there early for. Of course, having made this determination, the next time I showed up at 10:45 for a JGB show I discovered that I had just missed a set or more by Ramblin Jack Elliott (Jan 24 '83), so some interesting players may have opened on occasion. Nevertheless, the point was to get people there early and keep them drinking beer, and the laid back nature of the Garcia audience was custom made for the Keystone's business model.

I only became conscious of the Keystone's peculiar business arrangement with Garcia when some friends in my dorm with fake ID's attended the January '76 JGB show where Keith and Donna debuted (Jan 26 '76; they had no idea who would replace Hopkins until Keith walked on stage). However, I have no reason to believe that things were much, or any, different from 1972 to 1975. For example, have you ever noticed that no one has any ticket stubs for Garcia shows at the Keystone Berkeley? That's because there weren't any. You couldn't buy tickets in advance, and they just stamped your hand when you went in. This also meant that the entire evening was pretty much an all-cash transaction at the door and at the bar, always attractive to businesses who don't like to leave complicated paper trails.

Jerry Garcia shows at the Keystone Berkeley were advertised in the paper and the club's monthly flyer, but they were often changed. Garcia would be booked for two or three days in a row, and one would be added or dropped at the last minute. Since no tickets were sold in advance, no money had to be refunded. I have to think this was one of the key attractions to Garcia. He could book shows at Keystone Berkeley, knowing that if there were last minute complications in his schedule he could simply add or subtract dates as needed. Of course, from an historian's point of view this makes things very difficult, as there were so many changes, but the flexibility was essential to Garcia's willingness to playing the club.

Since the Keystone Berkeley was generally open every night anyway, it wasn't catastrophic if Garcia canceled or re-scheduled a date. The opening act would just play anyway, and maybe another local act would be booked, and a few beer drinkers would wander in, but that was what the Keystone would have booked anyway, so it was worth giving Garcia the opportunity to play. By the same token, if a local band was booked on a weeknight, and Garcia abruptly wanted to add a show, it seems the Keystone just kept the local band's booking and made them into the opening act.

The 1980s
By the time the 80s rolled onwards, Garcia was playing at The Stone and Keystone Palo Alto as much as Keystone Berkeley. In fact, JGB played more shows at The Stone than either of the other two, both because The Stone was nearer Marin and because it had fewer really good bookings to conflict with Garcia's dates. I also think that as the Grateful Dead became bigger, Garcia's schedule became more rigid. There were fewer dates at the Keystone Berkeley, and indeed all of the Keystones, but there were fewer last second additions and subtractions of dates either.

Changes in the rock market and the parking situation in Downtown Berkeley caused the Keystone Berkeley to close in Spring 1984. Garcia's last shows at Keystone Berkeley were March 21-22, 1984, and the club closed soon after. Between March 8, 1972 and March 22, 1984, Garcia had played an incredible 206 times at the Keystone Berkeley, in a variety of bands. I do not believe there is a single venue that the Grateful Dead played more than 50 times, and Garcia quadrupled that at Keystone Berkeley, a fact that many Dead scholars take for granted. The Garcia configurations that played Keystone Berkeley were:

• Garcia/Saunders
• Old And In The Way
• Great American String Band
• Legion Of Mary
• Jerry Garcia Band
• Reconstruction

Garcia continued to play for Bobby Corona and Freddy Herrera at Keystone Palo Alto and The Stone, but the two clubs closed as well in 1986 and 1987, respectively. Starting in 1987, the Jerry Garcia Band started to perform regularly for Bill Graham Presents. Granted, the JGB was bigger than they had ever been, but the loyal Garcia could have worked for Bill any time, but he stuck with the Corona/Herrera partnership as he had since 1971 until they went out of business. The loyalty Garcia showed to the Keystone family is remarkable in its own right, and to my mind largely unremarked upon.

"Backstage" At The Keystone Berkeley
No discussion of the unique circumstances of Garcia at the Keystone Berkeley would be complete without explaining the stage set up. The club had a conventional setup, a rectangular room with the stage at the far end, opposite from the bar. There was a little balcony for the soundboard and a few tables (members of the Dead would sometimes watch the Garcia Band from the soundboard). Backstage, such as it was, was a big room behind the bar. It can be viewed on the inside cover of the Jerry Garcia/Merl Saunders Live At Keystone album. I never tried to go back there (not my style), but people have many legendary tales.

However, in retrospect, the remarkable thing about the Keystone Berkeley was that there was no backstage per se, as the stage was on the opposite end from the bar and the back room. Thus the band--including Garcia--had to walk through the audience to get to the stage.  It was actually on the East Coast where the Dead became really huge, and Garcia became larger than life. Nonetheless it was still astonishing that the Dead could headline Madison Square Garden, and a few weeks later Garcia would play this bar where he had to walk through the crowd to get to the stage.

In the 1980s, more and more people either visited the West Coast or outright moved to the Bay Area to be nearer the Dead. Seeing Garcia at the Keystone was a must-do. Typically, visitors or new arrivals would be thrilled to discover that "tickets were still available," not realizing they always were, and spend all day in line. One of my friends, a Manhattanite himself (hi Bobby), took a special pleasure in finding some newcomer near stage right (the steps to the stage were there) and getting him to look at the stage just as the lights went down. As the eager eyed Deadhead peered backstage, looking for Jerry amdist the hubbub, my friend would wait and say "hey, look behind you" and there was Jerry walking right past them (and Steve Parish and Keystone security staff, too, of course). Every time the astonished visitor would say "he couldn't do this in New York [or wherever]," and indeed he couldn't. Right up until the end, for all it's hassles, rowdiness and late hours, Jerry Garcia at Keystone Berkeley was a singular event that had no parallels in the Dead world.

Aftermath
Sometime in the late 90s, I was in Berkeley on a hot day, walking on University back towards campus. I was fading, so I ducked into a drugstore to grab a soft drink or something. As I stood in line inside the Thrifty Jr store, I had a weird moment of recognition. I looked around, and realized I was in the remodeled Keystone Berkeley. Where I was standing would have been right in front of the stage. For a moment all my memories came rushing back, about things passed, ne'er to be seen again.

I walked away in a different mood. I couldn't see the outline of the 40-foot high mural of Jimi Hendrix that had adorned the entrance in the 80s, but I knew it was there.