It seems like everyone has a Grateful Dead Story. Love them or hate them, their impact on popular culture cannot be discounted.
I grew up in a house filled with the music of The Grateful Dead – have cousins named after their songs and a dad who once followed them around the country.
I remember summers spent in Last Vegas, drinking virgin margaritas by the pool as my dad and his friend made the pilgrimage to Sin City to see their favorite band for the millionth time. Every Father’s Day was spent at the record store picking out a new sticker or tie-dye shirt for our deadhead dad. When Jerry Garcia died in 1995, my brother, sister and I saw our dad cry for one of the first times.
He cried again today, when we got the news of Bob Weir. My whole family happened to be together, we were on the freeway and “Uncle John’s Band” came on the radio. In the rearview I could see my brother and sister both crying as well. Because, like them or not, The Grateful Dead is more than just a band. More than just a movement. They are a feeling. They are a community, a self-sustained musical ecosystem. The Grateful Dead is the band that kept on truckin', they play the music that never stops, and Bob Weir, even in death, remains one of its most loved and renowned stewards.
Fair thee well, Bob Weir...
- Hillary
