An Evening at Winterland
I know this blog has become pretty random in the things I write about. This is because I do not have a particular goal in mind. But sometimes I get in the mood to put something into black and white, so I’ll stop, think for a minute about it and then come up with a story for the day. Right now I am listening to “Carry On Wayward Son” by Kansas it made me think of one of my many misadventures as a youth.
Starting in 1974 when I was 17, I began going to San Francisco with some then-friends to see concerts. Some of these were at a place called Winterland, but I also went to several Days on the Green at Oakland Coliseum as well as other venues. For those who are unaware, Wikipedia has this to say about the Winterland: The Winterland Ballroom, often referred to as Winterland Arena or simply Winterland, was an ice skating rink and 5,400-seat music venue in San Francisco, California. Located at the corner of Post Street and Steiner Street, it was converted to exclusive use as a music venue in 1971 by rock promoter Bill Graham and became a common performance site for many of the most famous rock music artists.
The guys I usually went with invited me to come along because I was the only one who owned a car and they also trusted me not to drive crazy while they partied and then passed out. I knew this at the time but I didn’t care. I just wanted to “belong.” Unlike my other stories thus far, no names, other than my own will be used to protect myself. Going to these concerts in The City during this era was a crazy experience for a young and relatively naïve young man that I was. People dressed so gaudily, acting wild and so openly about their drug use was almost overwhelming. At Winterland I saw the J. Geils band several times as well as Jefferson Starship, Foghat, Kansas, Montrose, Journey and Blue Oyster Cult.
Upon arrival at Winterland, sometimes two or three hours before the doors opened, we’d get in line so we could get as close to the stage as possible. Winterland had “cattle seating” which meant there were no assigned seats. As we waited in line, drug dealers walked up and down the sidewalk, hawking their wares. One guy’s spiel is particularly memorable as he paced up and down the line announcing, “My name is Frank! Want some crank?” I was not interested in what he was peddling because I was so scared of using drugs. I was a strictly a beer and cheap wine drinker then. For those who remember, the wines of choice for those days were Thunderbird, Ripple. Mad Dog 20/20 and Night Train. I bought a long men’s overcoat at a thrift store when I was in 8th. grade. It was made of wool and had been custom made so it was of high quality. I dubbed it my San Francisco coat and although I don’t fit into it any longer, it’s still hanging in my closet. My friends and I all had boda bags which we filled with the beverage of choice. I hung the bodas around my neck and concealed them under my coat. The cursory pat search at the door never revealed my secret at the door because staff who patted me down just thought the soft bags were rolls of fat. My record was six boda bags.
The memorable trip mentioned above occurred on December 21, 1975. Four of us went to that show to see Blue Oyster Cult, Link Wray and Kansas. We drove there in my sweet 1966 Chevy Impala SS. To this day I am sickened at the thought that I traded that car for a 1958 Chevrolet Del Rey. Anyway, I picked up two of the guys who were cousins. As we drove over to the fourth guy’s house these two guys, who I’ll call Larry and Moe asked me if I wanted to drop some acid. I had never tried LSD before because, like I said, I was afraid of drugs so I declined. They persisted, telling me it was Orange Sunshine, a very mild dose. I eventually caved into the peer pressure and took a hit. We picked up a guy I’ll call Jim and headed for San Francisco. We were drinking beer and listening to my 8 track stereo. As we drove over the Altamont, Larry and Moe began to giggle which caused me to also giggle. Jim asked us what was so funny but he had not been given any acid so we didn’t let him in our secret.
We made it safely to the City. Jim and I didn’t have our tickets so we walked down Geary Blvd. to buy some at Pacific Stereo (remember them?). We could have driven in my car but we had a good parking place and didn’t want to lose it. After purchasing the tickets, we started walking back to Winterland when it suddenly began to rain – hard. We took refuge at a bus stop and waited for the next bus to come by. When it did, we hopped on the very full conveyance and ended up having to go to the back to stand for our trip. About six blocks from our destination, I got the case of the giggles again. Jim glared at me and whispered for me to stop laughing, but I couldn’t help it. He pointed out that we were practically the only white people on the bus and that if I didn’t shut up, we were going to get the crap beat out of us. I did notice that our fellow passengers were looking at me and they didn’t seem to amused about my amusement. At the next stop, Jim got off even though were still several blocks away and I followed him. We walked the rest of the way in the pouring rain but I suppose Jim thought that being wet was better than being dead.
We got in line, waited for the doors to open and watched the usual circus around us. Frank with the crank was there that evening along with “Window Pane Jane” who was selling hits of LSD called “four way window pane.” There was lots of pot being passed around as well as that high dollar wine I mentioned above.
Once inside we had to wait another hour or so for the show to start. Mr. Bill Graham (no, not Billy!) the master of ceremonies came out and introduced a band I had not heard of before. It was called Kansas and the show was on! I was blown away by the band, most especially by guitarist Kerry Livgren and Robby Steinhardt, a bushy red-haired rock violinist. I don’t remember much about Link Wray’s set. I was really there to see Blue Oyster Cult whose song “Don’t Fear the Reaper” was a favorite of mine at that time. BOC used some pyrotechnics in their show of which I did not know prior to seeing them live. When the lead singer shot a ten-foot jet of fire from his finger, I immediately concluded I did not like being under the influence of LSD and that was the last time I have ever used it.
As I write this I am reminded of a teaching by Blaise Pascal, who lived in the 1600’s. He wrote: “There is a God-shaped vacuum in the heart of every person, and it can never be filled by any created thing. It can only be filled by God, made known through Jesus Christ.” Man has tried from the beginning of time to fill this vacuum with many things other than God including food, sex, and drugs as well as many other things in an effort to find contentment But only God can fill that hole. For a time as a younger man I tried to be happy without having God in my life. I thank Him now that I did not get all caught up in the drug use going on at that time, but it could easily have happened. Many of my friends were into drugs and alcohol and I could have followed along. I was 18 when we saw that concert. As far as I know, one of those guys is still using drugs at age 56 and it saddens me deeply. On the other hand, as long as he is alive on the earth, I will pray for him to meet Jesus and because of that, there is hope, something we all need.
Starting in 1974 when I was 17, I began going to San Francisco with some then-friends to see concerts. Some of these were at a place called Winterland, but I also went to several Days on the Green at Oakland Coliseum as well as other venues. For those who are unaware, Wikipedia has this to say about the Winterland: The Winterland Ballroom, often referred to as Winterland Arena or simply Winterland, was an ice skating rink and 5,400-seat music venue in San Francisco, California. Located at the corner of Post Street and Steiner Street, it was converted to exclusive use as a music venue in 1971 by rock promoter Bill Graham and became a common performance site for many of the most famous rock music artists.
The guys I usually went with invited me to come along because I was the only one who owned a car and they also trusted me not to drive crazy while they partied and then passed out. I knew this at the time but I didn’t care. I just wanted to “belong.” Unlike my other stories thus far, no names, other than my own will be used to protect myself. Going to these concerts in The City during this era was a crazy experience for a young and relatively naïve young man that I was. People dressed so gaudily, acting wild and so openly about their drug use was almost overwhelming. At Winterland I saw the J. Geils band several times as well as Jefferson Starship, Foghat, Kansas, Montrose, Journey and Blue Oyster Cult.
Upon arrival at Winterland, sometimes two or three hours before the doors opened, we’d get in line so we could get as close to the stage as possible. Winterland had “cattle seating” which meant there were no assigned seats. As we waited in line, drug dealers walked up and down the sidewalk, hawking their wares. One guy’s spiel is particularly memorable as he paced up and down the line announcing, “My name is Frank! Want some crank?” I was not interested in what he was peddling because I was so scared of using drugs. I was a strictly a beer and cheap wine drinker then. For those who remember, the wines of choice for those days were Thunderbird, Ripple. Mad Dog 20/20 and Night Train. I bought a long men’s overcoat at a thrift store when I was in 8th. grade. It was made of wool and had been custom made so it was of high quality. I dubbed it my San Francisco coat and although I don’t fit into it any longer, it’s still hanging in my closet. My friends and I all had boda bags which we filled with the beverage of choice. I hung the bodas around my neck and concealed them under my coat. The cursory pat search at the door never revealed my secret at the door because staff who patted me down just thought the soft bags were rolls of fat. My record was six boda bags.
The memorable trip mentioned above occurred on December 21, 1975. Four of us went to that show to see Blue Oyster Cult, Link Wray and Kansas. We drove there in my sweet 1966 Chevy Impala SS. To this day I am sickened at the thought that I traded that car for a 1958 Chevrolet Del Rey. Anyway, I picked up two of the guys who were cousins. As we drove over to the fourth guy’s house these two guys, who I’ll call Larry and Moe asked me if I wanted to drop some acid. I had never tried LSD before because, like I said, I was afraid of drugs so I declined. They persisted, telling me it was Orange Sunshine, a very mild dose. I eventually caved into the peer pressure and took a hit. We picked up a guy I’ll call Jim and headed for San Francisco. We were drinking beer and listening to my 8 track stereo. As we drove over the Altamont, Larry and Moe began to giggle which caused me to also giggle. Jim asked us what was so funny but he had not been given any acid so we didn’t let him in our secret.
We made it safely to the City. Jim and I didn’t have our tickets so we walked down Geary Blvd. to buy some at Pacific Stereo (remember them?). We could have driven in my car but we had a good parking place and didn’t want to lose it. After purchasing the tickets, we started walking back to Winterland when it suddenly began to rain – hard. We took refuge at a bus stop and waited for the next bus to come by. When it did, we hopped on the very full conveyance and ended up having to go to the back to stand for our trip. About six blocks from our destination, I got the case of the giggles again. Jim glared at me and whispered for me to stop laughing, but I couldn’t help it. He pointed out that we were practically the only white people on the bus and that if I didn’t shut up, we were going to get the crap beat out of us. I did notice that our fellow passengers were looking at me and they didn’t seem to amused about my amusement. At the next stop, Jim got off even though were still several blocks away and I followed him. We walked the rest of the way in the pouring rain but I suppose Jim thought that being wet was better than being dead.
We got in line, waited for the doors to open and watched the usual circus around us. Frank with the crank was there that evening along with “Window Pane Jane” who was selling hits of LSD called “four way window pane.” There was lots of pot being passed around as well as that high dollar wine I mentioned above.
Once inside we had to wait another hour or so for the show to start. Mr. Bill Graham (no, not Billy!) the master of ceremonies came out and introduced a band I had not heard of before. It was called Kansas and the show was on! I was blown away by the band, most especially by guitarist Kerry Livgren and Robby Steinhardt, a bushy red-haired rock violinist. I don’t remember much about Link Wray’s set. I was really there to see Blue Oyster Cult whose song “Don’t Fear the Reaper” was a favorite of mine at that time. BOC used some pyrotechnics in their show of which I did not know prior to seeing them live. When the lead singer shot a ten-foot jet of fire from his finger, I immediately concluded I did not like being under the influence of LSD and that was the last time I have ever used it.
As I write this I am reminded of a teaching by Blaise Pascal, who lived in the 1600’s. He wrote: “There is a God-shaped vacuum in the heart of every person, and it can never be filled by any created thing. It can only be filled by God, made known through Jesus Christ.” Man has tried from the beginning of time to fill this vacuum with many things other than God including food, sex, and drugs as well as many other things in an effort to find contentment But only God can fill that hole. For a time as a younger man I tried to be happy without having God in my life. I thank Him now that I did not get all caught up in the drug use going on at that time, but it could easily have happened. Many of my friends were into drugs and alcohol and I could have followed along. I was 18 when we saw that concert. As far as I know, one of those guys is still using drugs at age 56 and it saddens me deeply. On the other hand, as long as he is alive on the earth, I will pray for him to meet Jesus and because of that, there is hope, something we all need.
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| Bill Graham onstage at Winterland |
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