Just Five Years...

Has it been fifty years?
Yes.
We have had ten presidents, several economic booms and busts, put a man on the moon and endured a considerable dumbing down of our culture since "the day the music died" in a frozen Iowa cornfield. February 3, marked the fiftieth anniversary of the plane crash in Clear Lake, Iowa that killed Richie Valens, J.P. Richardson and Buddy Holly just as their individual stars were beginning to rise. Richardson at 28 was the oldest; Valens, 17, the youngest and Holly was only 22.
They all had big hit records at the time and were in the middle of a Winter tour that had them playing lots of one nighters in the upper Midwest. Their last stop was the Surf Ballroom in Clear Lake. My pal, Skipper Dave, (seen here) and I stopped to visit the Surf and the crash site just three years ago when we rallyed on our way to a fortieth high school reunion. According to Dave's brother, Gus, who lives in the area, not much has changed during the past few decades.

It's always hard to predict what might have been, especially in show business. All three were talented and had obviously navigated the predictable rejection and management treachery that only the truly determined among us can survive. They each may have had very successful careers or have fallen prey to the temptations of excess that no amount of talent can save. We'll never know.

Of the three, one seemed destined to become an icon---Buddy Holly.
The span of his career was short, 1954-1959. It's astounding when you think about it. He went from playing three-chord hits at Lubbock, Texas sock hops to sophisticated orchestrated, string enhanced melodies that still influence pop music today. In the year of his death he and his wife had relocated to New York's Greenwich Village to be closer to other young musicians that he felt he might learn from. Just listen to his "It Doesn't Matter Any More", released in the month following his death and you'll hear finesse far beyond his twenty-two years. This guy was going to provide us with great music for years to come. Think of the songs we've missed! He would have produced a songbook the likes of Sinatra, Elvis, Lennon & McCartney and Brian Wilson. The cat was that good.



It's funny how you sometimes just know things...

I remember the Summer that I was nine years old. The southern Michigan night was sticky and tomorrow would be even hotter. All the windows were open and I could hear "Doe" Chamberlain's transistor radio playing on the picnic table in her parents backyard as she and her friends listened to Bob "Hoppy" Hopkins Record Review on WKHM in Jackson. I was jealous that she, being a teenager, was able to stay out past dark even if it was her own backyard, but was grateful that I could listen to all this wonderful rock n' roll music that all of our parents hated so much. It was so damn cool! I had no idea then that it would become not only the soundtrack of my life, but also for what I laughingly call "My Career".
It was that night...that hot Michigan night of 1957 that I heard old "Hoppy" introduce Buddy Holly and the Crickets That'll Be the Day. The hair on my arms stood up and I was changed. That song still gives me chills. It's that powerful.

Five years is all he had, but Buddy Holly has given all of us more than fifty years of great memories: That'll Be the Day", "Oh, Boy!", "Maybe Baby", "Think it Over", "Peggy Sue", "Rave On", Early in the Morning", "Everyday", "True Love Ways", "It Doesn't Matter Anymore".


Rock n' Roll heaven? Gotta be.




The site of the Buddy Holly, J.P. Richardson, Richie Valens plane crash near Clear Lake, Iowa.