Not thinking I’d win the lottery for tickets, I wrote Bill Graham a letter from my home in Bozeman, Mont., sent the $50 apiece, and asked for three tickets. I signed it Mayor of Bozo City or something. I had gone to Kentucky and then to Florida for Christmas. Tix came to Montana late. I […]

I was living in Bellingham Wash. at the time. I was able to get tickets from a friend named Gregg Rydman and we rode to California in a beat up old VW bug that was very cold all the way south. We arrived in S.F. on the 30th and went right to Winterland. Petty was playing that night

I was fortunate to have won the right to purchase tickets. The local BASS ticket outlets gave out stubs with a number on them, and if they drew your number, you got to purchase tickets. My future wife Marianne had a winning ticket so we went down and bought our tickets. Marianne was lucky that

Fellow head Paul Martin and I had learned to fly while grad students. We flew to Denver for Christmas, and tried to fly home in time to catch all the Winterland shows. I had never missed a Winterland show since my first three in November 1973 when they opened with Promised Land at my first

Yokum and I were hard-core Dead freaks. We had already done Barton Hall and Englishtown, so when our bosom buddy Rico said he had two tickets for the closing of Winterland, there was no doubt. Rico, my friend since age 4, wanted to go, but he said we NEEDED to go, so we hopped on