At the closing of Winterland, we’re dancing way up top and behind the stage (by the way, “way up top” at Winterland was so not far up), when suddenly the ceiling plaster, which at its rounded corner wasn’t far above us, started to crumble. Now imagine us, in our stoned-out, tripping state, looking up as […]

Though I was living in San Jose, Calif. at the time, I drove my ’67 VW camper bus from my hometown of Gustine, Calif., where I picked up my fellow Deadheads, Joe and David. We arrived early and got a very good parking spot in the lot adjacent to Winterland. We smoked dope, drank wine

I saw the Dead 34 times at Winterland. The closing of Winterland was so hyped, the demand so great that a lottery was installed whereby being in the front of the line did not guarantee you could buy a ticket. You had to wait several hours after being handed a ticket to hear the winning numbers,

Winterland was both my church and my school! It was a place where I went to hear the “gospel of rock ‘n’ roll.” On NYE ’78, Winterland looked great, the music was fantastic, and the audience was very enthusiastic! When we walked into Winterland, I noticed the way Bill Graham Presents decorated Winterland to make

I was one of the last ‘civilians’ to leave Winterland. I went upstairs to find my coat and went into the men’s room on the middle floor. There was some guy in there; we started talking and smoked some hash. He had taken a bunch of pictures, he asked for my address and said he

In the fall of 1978, I had been living in San Francisco for just over two years. I had come out from Delaware in September 1976 to study audio engineering at the College for Recording Arts, but had abandoned any dreams of working in recording studios by the time I got my degree in 1977. It

At 5 a.m. on the morning of Dec. 31, 1978, still wide awake after the Pauley Pavilion show the night before, my friends and I headed to LAX for the first flight to SFO. Immediately upon landing, we made our way to the Fillmore District to wait outside the Winterland Ballroom. We had a prime

So, it’s about 7 a.m. or so and the show is over and cleanup has started. I run into an old friend and want to get their phone number, but we don’t have a pen. Bill Graham walks by with his clipboard and a pen hanging around his neck on a chain. I say, “Bill

My first Dead show (indeed, first rock concert) was at Winterland on Dec. 12, 1972. It was crushing to find out that it was going to close. Winterland was a dump, of course, but it was our dump, and everybody sounded great there. The lack of reserved seats meant you could go at the last

The closing of Winterland: 40 years later it is still the highlight of all the concerts I’ve attended. I’ll never forget Bill Graham serving me breakfast at dawn. Which leads me to a story. I was a college student at Pace University in Westchester, N.Y. when I read about the plan to close Winterland, and