The Concert of a Lifetime!

It was April 12, 1969.

I'd been in Germany saving all of you unappreciative 'Muricans from communism for a couple of years by then.  I'd been assigned as Asst. Chief of Staff for Major General Lawrence J. Kennedy.  He was Commanding General for the Communications Zone, Europe, and had a lot of folks jockeying for his time.  And I was put there to act as his gate guard.  Nobody got in without going through me.

I'd only been in Frankfurt for a couple of months when I heard about an upcoming concert.  We were told that Ray Charles and Janis Joplin would be playing one night only at the spacious Jahrhunderthalle (One Hundred Year Hall) in Hoescht, a town with an unpronouceable name just outside Frankfurt.  And they were offering special cut-price tickets for G.I.'s.  And that included me.

A friend and I bought tickets and headed on in.  Even though we were early, the place was almost full.  And by "full," I mean upwards of 3,500 mostly Army guys like us.  Standing room only.  The buzz was in the air.  Everyone there was lit up, whether on wine, whiskey or some nice Thai stick.  Plus the unmistakable smell of still-fresh-from-the-ovens-of-Marsaille hashish.  We could not wait...

I recall being asked some years later, BTW, how I enjoyed my time in Germany.  I responded by saying that I'd heard '68 and '69 went well, but I couldn't swear to it...

The lights went out.  It went dark in the auditorium.  And those sounds you can never forget began to waft through the P.A. system.  It was Ray Charles singing, "Hit the Road, Jack!"  "Oh baby, listen baby, don't you treat me so mean, you're the meanest old woman that I've ever seen."  As he sung the lights came up and there was Ray, seated at his piano, surrounded by the Raylettes and a 12-piece orchestra.  He rocked through every one of his songs, ending with "Georgia on My Mind," of course.  He was still young enough to rock the place, and the sounds were like a quick trip back home.*  

And then it was time for the star billing.  Janis Joplin had taken off like a rocket a year or so earlier, with her breakthrough song, "Piece of my Heart."  She was backed up then by "Big Brother and the Holding Company," and they'd topped the charts.  We'd gotten her records and were playing them non-stop the in Day Room.  Her fans were waiting eagerly.  

The lights went up again.  Joplin came out with a blaring rendition of "Heart."  We were close to the stage and the sound was set at "10."  I had to plug my ears to avoid permanent damage.  She was dressed like a homeless San Franciscan and in her right hand was that ever-present quart bottle of Jack Daniel.  Her favorite vice.  Or at least the only one we could swear to.  

And man, did she scream her lungs out!  And man, did she woof down that booze!  Once she'd finished the first song she took a long, hard pull on that Jack.  Glug, glug.  I was only 50 feet or so from the stage, and all this was very visible.  It was down about a quarter when she first came out.  It was only half full by the end of her third song.  By the end of the set the bottle was empty.  And as she was famous for doing, she went to the edge of the stage, motioned for us to get back, and then slammed it down on the concrete floor with all her might!  The glass shards shot everywhere!  She laughed as if possessed.  Perhaps she was.

I might mention that several of us warfighters were wounded in that firefight.  The medic were called to treat the sliced-up, smoked-up patrons, and some were seen slipping on the bloody floor.  But I digress...

It was a three-hour feast for the senses.  My $10 ticket may have been the very best use of money in the  entire history of my DNA.  They carried Joplin off the stage.  I don't think it was an act.  I think she was hammered and no longer in control of her very talented faculties.  

At least the "lines crossed" at the proper time; she was finished, and so were we... 

*   Many years later, in the late '80's, I believe, my Wife and Partner Elaine and I were returning from Vegas to Orange County.  As we descended the escalator to the bag claim there was Ray, seated up against the wall, all by his lonesome.  I stopped short; what was going on here?  I had to find out.  I went over, cleared my throat to announce my presence, and introduced myself and Elaine to The Man.  It turns out his bodyman had gone for the car as to why he was alone.  He returned during our convo.  Ray recalled that night in Hoescht, and the rest of his subsequent tour with Joplin.  He said that if he hadn't been hooked on heroin when he started it, he certainly would have been by the time it ended...