Dark Star (48 page)

Len Dell'amico:
There's no question in my mind that he called certain people or had long personal face-to-faces with people for the express purpose of saying things that needed to be said. That's not easy. But it's not uncommon.

Alan Trist:
I was lucky enough to run into Jerry at the Ice Nine Publishing office. Just he and I one-on-one. He was waiting for a Rex Foundation meeting that was going to go on upstairs and we had an hour together. In retrospect, I feel that he was doing the rounds. He really talked to me and I could hardly get a word in edgewise. I got this feeling that he knew what was going on. He was also trying to make connection with Bob Hunter, who had a phone call from him that same day. What he talked to me about was his book. He told me the whole story of
Harrington Street
. I had brought with me the page proofs of Paul Foster's book that Hulogosi was publishing. I said, “You want to see some of this?” He said, “No, I haven't got time for that now.” And it wasn't a put-down on Paul. And I said, “What are you doing, Jerry?” He said, “I'm writing a book.” And I said, “What's it about?” And then he launched into this forty-five-minute rave about it. He told me the whole story. It occurs, he said, between the ages of five and eight years old. That is the frame.

Jerry certainly mentioned to me that the fact that he didn't grow up with a father in his immediate family made him who he was. He definitely pointed to that influence, or noninfluence, as being significant as to how he viewed himself. His grandfather was the male figure substitute in some way but he was not really present and he had this face that was disfigured by cancer. These are heavy images and deep.

While he was talking to me in that hour about
Harrington Street
, I had a strong feeling that there was something about Jerry that was different. He always did this thing with his hands when he talked but he was like
mudra
-ing to me, really close up and intense. When I look back at it, and it's so clear to me even now, the expression in his eyes and the animation in his face and the enthusiasm of his voice, my feeling is that he was trying to get out something before he died, that he knew he didn't have long. He didn't have long and he
had
to do this. There was no sense of regret that he was about to die or of guilt for having created the conditions for his own death. Not at all. It was just, “I've got to take care of business now and get this stuff out.”

That was who he was. He was just the same as when we'd sit at Kepler's and he would be playing the guitar and looking at me and I'd be reading and talking and he would keep playing away, never stopping, just smiling. He was the same person when I saw him last as he was then.

Sue Stephens:
Jerry told me he was going to spend twenty-one days at Serenity Knolls. He was going to do the whole thing. He said that he had picked that place out because it was an old Boy Scout camp that they used to crash at in the old days. It was some place that was familiar to him. When he left here that day, he stopped and gave me the biggest bear hug. If you ever got to hug Jerry, it was the best. It was like hugging Santa Claus. That was just how it must feel. He gave me one of those big bear hugs and told me to take good care of myself.

Owsley Stanley:
The guy had had a diabetic collapse and obvious heart problems. The fact that he was allowed to check in alone into a place like that one without anyone getting his medical records or doing a complete examination, including a cardiogram, I find that very difficult to understand. It just doesn't seem right. Everyone in their own mind is immortal, I guess.

Justin Kreutzmann:
Apparently he drove himself up there and he checked in and he was only there for a couple hours. They said he was making some really awful breathing sounds but he always talked in his sleep and he had a voracious snore that could, no pun intended, wake up the dead. They have these rooms called the sick rooms where you first check in just to make sure you're mellow. It's not a medical facility so it's not really set up for emergencies. They said he was talking in his sleep and making some horrible breathing sounds. At about one in the morning, he came out and went into the bathroom. The people who were watching him said, “You need anything?” and he said, “No.” He went back in and they didn't hear anything so they figured he was fine. They found him a couple hours later and he was cuddling an apple like it was a baby with a smile on his face. By then, he'd been dead for a few hours.

Dr. Randy Baker:
The cause of death was coronary artery disease, which was greatly worsened by his diabetes. I think that the two things that killed him the most were cigarettes and sugar. Heroin played a role indirectly in that while using heroin I believe he really couldn't get a handle on controlling the urge to smoke and eat sweets.

Justin Kreutzmann:
I've seen the autopsy report and he had like eighty-five percent blockage in three of the major arteries and then finally when you check the very last page, they said there were slight traces of heroin in his system. To me, it was the kind of dose you take just so you won't get sick. He didn't die of an overdose.

Sandy Rothman:
I read very carefully the reports from the staff members there and they are not a medical facility and the staff is not medically trained. I don't think he heard loud snoring—I think he heard the sound of the apnea. I'm not saying the apnea killed Jerry but it may have been the immediate cause of breathing cessation.

Dr. Randy Baker:
Jerry did have some degree of apnea, which once more was strongly related to his weight. When his weight was high, he had more episodes of apnea. When his weight came down, the apnea got better. He died of cardiac arrest. Some people will have warning time. Some will have chest pains for years before they have a heart attack. Others will not.

The most likely way for Jerry to die would have been from something sudden. I think he might have been able to rally and recuperate from anything that was lingering, in part because of the number of people who would pray for him when he was ill. Another thing I want to make clear is that Jerry really was doing his very best to get healthy. He wanted to stay on this planet for many more years. He had a lot of plans and projects and he was finally doing what he thought he needed to do to get healthy.

In retrospect, you could think why didn't I or other people around him apply more pressure? Why didn't we coerce him into getting treatment at a sooner time? To me, that just went against everything the man stood for. What he valued most was freedom and the liberty to find his own way. I didn't feel it was my role to try to coerce him into a treatment program. I didn't think a treatment program was likely to work until he was ready to do it.

I wanted to repeat all the cardiac testing that summer. The plan was to first have him come off the drugs and then repeat all those tests before the Grateful Dead's fall tour. Would Jerry have passed those tests with that kind of blockage? Probably not. I might have recommended an angioplasty but it is of limited value in people with widespread blockage. I don't think he would have gone for it. I don't think he would have been a good candidate for open heart surgery and I don't think he would have put himself through that. With his severe lung disease and diabetes, I would not have thought that he would have had a very good chance of making it through that surgery.

Instead, we would have tried to put him on a program aimed at controlling his diabetes. Exercise and following a low-fat diet has been demonstrated to reverse coronary artery disease. Would he have ever been able to tour again? Not for a long time at least.

 

Sue Stephens:
We used to get the news all the time that Jerry had died. Somebody would hear it on the radio somewhere and there would be a flurry of “Oh, God” calls. Once I picked up the phone and called Jerry's home and he answered. I sort of stammered and I said, “The reason I'm calling is because this news was on the radio.” He said, “No. I'm sorry. Not yet. Don't want to disappoint anybody. But nah. Sorry.” This happened so many times before the morning when it was true that even Dennis McNally thought it was a rumor from the previous tour. To me it was like, “Oh, here we go. It's just these silly rumors again.” When I heard that the sheriffs department had confirmed it, that was when I knew.

Vince Dibiase:
I called Dennis McNally. I said, “Dennis. What's up?” He said, “Just L.A. hype. Just L.A. hype.” I said, “Are you sure? Has anyone talked to Jerry this morning?” He said, “Well, no.” Gloria said to me, “Honey, call Jerry up. Call Jerry up.” I called and I got his answering machine. “Jerry, if you need us, we'll come over....” We were going to go over there so we got in the car. We were getting lots of phone calls but we got in the car because we were in total denial. We got in our car and we started heading over. As I turned on the radio, it came on.

Bob Barsotti:
When I got the call about Bill Graham, that was a shock. That was really unbelievable. Whereas the call about Jerry was, “Oh today's the day.” It didn't make it any easier. But it made it a little different.

Sue Swanson:
Mickey Hart said it best the day that Jerry died. I looked him in the eye and I said, “You all right? How you doing? You okay? I know this is going to be really hard for you, Mickey.” He said, “I don't have to wait for the call anymore.” My mom died this year and it was one of those things where it was really a blessing. I knew that call was going to come and that call came and then this call came.

Clifford “Tiff” Garcia:
Jerry's death was tragic but not a shock. It was sad that events turned out the way they did but he could have died in some hotel on tour. Or from heat exhaustion because they always toured the East Coast at the hottest time of the year and it was always harder for Jerry because he was overweight and in bad condition.

Cassidy Law:
So many of us were just happy that if it was going to happen this way, at least we didn't find him in a hotel room. At least it didn't happen in a plane or in his car.

Sonny Barger:
The bad thing about when people die is it leaves everybody else all fucked up. They're gone and it's no more a problem to them. It's just sad for everybody that's left. There'll never be another Jerry Garcia.

John Perry Barlow:
I'd just come back from New Zealand and I was in Salt Lake City. I was swimming in my mother's swimming pool and I was totally totally toasted from jet lag. I was floating around like a dead body and for some reason, I suddenly started thinking real strongly about Garcia and the Dead. In this completely mercenary way, I was thinking, “You're doing well enough now so that it would be sort of okay if the Grateful Dead went away. You would be all right financially.” Then I thought, “Why would the Grateful Dead go away? Because Garcia would die.” That was a whole 'nother issue.

I went over to the cliff and looked off into the abyss again for the kazillionth time and it was different this time. It felt different and I thought, “Never mind the Grateful Dead. Isn't it going to be a drag not to have those wonderful light conversations? The Inner Galactic Olympics of the Mind you used to have with this guy?” Then I thought, “On the other hand, when was the last time you had one of those? You haven't had that kind of conversation with him at any point in the last two years and you probably never will again.” Because he was down in there this time.

Rev. Matthew Fox:
I heard about his death and I called Deborah that very day. Just to see if I could be of service to her.

John Perry Barlow:
It was like something I said to Garcia at one point when he first started using the MIDI system. He did this guitar solo that was so much like Miles Davis, as Miles Davis wanted to be. It was unbelievable and I came up to him afterwards and I said, “Man, you could have been a great fucking trumpet player.” He said, “I
am
a great fucking trumpet player.” He could honor the music in himself. He saw that as being an independent entity that he was perfectly willing to accept and honor but all of the other large independent entities in him, he wasn't willing to accept and honor. Like the soul which camps out in the body.

For him, the body was just this thing that had been put on him like an electronic manacle. It was the thing in which he'd been exiled from all the sweetness and the light. For him, it was like being in prison. He always hated his body. It was the thing that he was locked inside and he treated it accordingly. Just like a prisoner, he put graffiti all over the walls. He broke the toilet. He literally set the mattress on fire. It may have been no way to live. But if it weren't, then there wouldn't be so many other people doing it that same way. The other side will have its way. If you're going to manifest a lot of light, you've got to pay the bill.

Rev. Matthew Fox:
I was upstairs at the Grateful Dead offices with Mickey Hart and other members of the band and it was very chaotic. People were talking about how we would do the funeral and where it would be held when news came that President Clinton and Vice President Gore had eulogized Jerry and everyone was very moved. The band started talking about how it had been when they'd visited the White House. Right then and there, they were already discussing whether or not this might be the end of the band. People were saying, “It's over” while others were wondering if they could carry on. They talked about Jerry's father drowning before his eyes when he was a boy and how that had been the absolute transformative experience in his life.