The Day the Music Died

“On a cold winter’s night in 1959 a small private plane took off from Clear Lake, Iowa bound for Fargo, N.D. It never made its destination.

When that plane crashed, it claimed the lives of Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, J.P. “Big Bopper” Richardson and the pilot, Roger Peterson. Three of Rock and Roll’s most promising performers were gone. As Don McLean wrote in his classic music parable, “American Pie” it was “the day the music died.”

[The above quote is from http://www.fiftiesweb.com/crash.htm]

I was 8 years old when Richie Valens and the Big Bopper died, and I don’t remember much about it, in fact I can’t recall one word ever being mentioned about it on the radio, or any of my friends or family discussing it at the time. I used to listen to KRLA and KFWB, the local rock stations in Los Angeles, every morning before school, and at night I would fall asleep with the earphone of my Rocket Radio in my ear, listening to the Dodger game and the music that came on afterwards.

I must have known the songs though. I knew “La Bamba” by Richie Valens, though I couldn’t translate or sing the lyrics, and I’m sure I had heard “Chantilly Lace,” because it was all too familiar many years later when I saw the movie American Graffitti – but I didn’t know it was by the Big Bopper. OK, I liked the song “Peggy Sue.” A friend of my older brother used to make fun of it, referring to her as “Peggy Sloo.” But I “totally” grew up during that whole period, and I swear I didn’t know who Buddy Holly was, at least not before Don McLean recorded “American Pie.”

At one time, I knew the song American Pie by heart. I could sing all of the verses, occasionally slipping and putting Lennon and Marx before the Devil, or getting the book of love out of place. In fact, I’ll try it right now, and you can check to see how well I do:

Bye Bye, Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
And them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye
Saying this will be the day that I die.
This will be the day that I die…

Did you write the book of love
And do you have faith in God above
If the Bible tells you so
Now do you believe in rock and roll
Can music save your immortal soul
And can you teach me how to dance real slow

Well I know that you’re in love with him
‘Cause I saw you dancing in the gym
You both kicked off your shoes
Man I dig those rhythm and blues
I was a lonely teenage broncing buck
With a pink carnation and a pickup truck
But I knew I was out of luck
The day the music died.

Bye Bye, Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
And them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye
Saying this will be the day that I die.
This will be the day that I die…

Ok, so this is about as far as I was able to get without stopping and thinking what comes next. And if you don’t count the fact that I left out the entire intro, I think I did pretty well…

Pffft!!

But I don’t think I’m having a problem with my memory, when I say I don’t remember the day the music died. In fact I remember lots of things. The Cuban Missile Crisis I remember. John Glenn’s mission into space I remember. The Beatles I remember. I remember the young girls lining up to wave at Elvis, when he passed by in a train one time, and my sister crying because my parents wouldn’t let her go. And I would sing “Hound Dog” and shake like I had seen Elvis do on the Ed Sullivan Show to taunt her. In my defense, I was only 5 or 6 years old at the time. And I will never forget the Kennedy Assassination.

For the life of me, I just don’t remember “the day the music died.”

I don’t think it really did die – I think we just didn’t feel like singing for a while.

~ by dobee on February 14, 2007.