Among the many other travelers he met Jerry Garcia on his musical journey was Bruce Hornsby. The singer, songwriter, and pianist had his first Dead show in 1974, at the College of William and Mary in Williamsburg, Virginia. Thirteen years later, he and his band opened the Range for the Dead in Salinas, California, the same night the band’s ‘Touch of Gray’ video was made.
Later, Hornsby, who had once played in a Dead cover band, joined the band. In 1990, after Brent Mydland died, it seemed only natural that the Dead should ask Hornsby to replace him. Since his own career was in high gear, Hornsby declined, but he became a returning member in the years that followed, using the newly hired Vince Welnick. In 1994, he brought the Dead to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
Back then, Hornsby hadn’t been a day of the show for a few years. That, as he says Rolling stone, it was much more surprising when he heard of the Dead Camp in early 1995. Here Hornsby reflects on his definitive shows with the Dead, his last conversation with Garcia, and how the news of Garcia’s death (August 9, 1995) affected him.
The last year-plus of his life, Jerry really had trouble with his addiction. The Dead Camp called me in March of ’95 and said, “Hey, if we could get a piano for you, would you fly here to the Charlotte Coliseum?” I said, “You caught me at a very good time, and I can do that.” They thought Jerry was pretty listless and uninvolved, and they thought I might be able to give him a pickup. They always felt like I did that when I was there, but I do not know what effect it had.
Then they asked me to do this again in the summer, when they were playing two nights at RFK Stadium [June 24th–25th]. I remember the shows were pretty damn good, and Jerry was nice and busy. But it was very sad to see him. He looked like he was in serious trouble. He looked really thin and thin. He was very pale.
He could still be energetic. During the sound check I got used to the piano, and he came out of his tent and lay on the piano and started talking to me: it was, “Why don’t I let myself play that song?” We were just bantering and having fun. But he was haggard and always sweet, and you had a helpless feeling. I think all the boys felt that no one could really help him. I was a tangential part of her scene at that point. I was not the whole time. But that was it for me.
A few weeks after their summer trip ended, I called him to see what happened. Like everyone else in the Grateful Dead universe, I was worried about him. Steve Parish [Garcia’s personal manager] answered the phone and said, ‘Your timing is pretty good, because we’re taking Jerry to Betty Ford. And here’s Jerry. “So we got on the phone and talked a little bit, because they were pretty ready to go down the road. He should be there for a month or five weeks, I think.
Two weeks later, in late July, early August, I just called out to get a progress report. I’m good, Jerry answers. He had left the center early, but he was in good spirits. He felt like he had stepped. Everyone was skeptical, I imagine. But he regales me with stories about his few weeks at Betty Ford, meeting one man who knew Django Reinhardt and about the upcoming fall tour. I had just worked with Ornette Coleman and he had also worked with him, so we compare notes on that. He mentioned some projects he had in mind that he wished I was on. We had a good, solid conversation for about 45 minutes. And then four days later [after Garcia had checked into the Serenity Knolls Treatment Center], he was gone.
I was in Houston that morning and one of my management called me and said, “Did you hear?” I did not have it. And it was obviously a shock, but it was no surprise. You can hardly be less surprised in this situation.
My Hot House record came out on time, and I was on tour, shilling for the record. That same day I flew from Houston to Boston and played at a Borders Books in Newton, Massachusetts, which turned into a de facto alarm clock. Because it just so happened, the Grateful Dead world was in complete mourning. Maybe some people saw that this man who had a relationship with the group would appear in this place. That they flooded into the store. I got fever.
They were clearly looking for comfort wherever they could find it. I think they thought I was a sympathetic spirit and was there for them. And I was, and they were there for me. I played songs and talked to the audience. It was very collegial and very interactive. I may have my favorite Grateful Dead song, “Wharf Rat.” It seemed appropriate for that moment.
But who knows? You still laugh at the news and you just wing it. I might have told a few funny Garcia stories to lighten it up a bit. You’re just trying to manage the situation and do what you can to comfort everyone there.
I miss him so much. He was such a deep soul but also a really funny man. He was ready to laugh and had the sharpest wit and just a great memory. Great memory, great knowledge of the world. He was a great hangman.
Garcia’s legacy is that the great body of music he made. ‘Black Muddy River’, ‘Ramble On Rose’, ‘Brokedown Palace’ – you could continue naming them for the next 20 minutes. Dead & Company carry the torch in a beautiful way with these songs, which I consider to be the hymns of the lives of the fans. And the young people who are coming to those shows now, the uninitiated, feel something very deep and moving. It gets under their skin, and they become fans for life.
