Here’s a look back 35 years to October 1989 and the Grateful Dead’s stealth shows at the Hampton Coliseum, courtesy of George Michael’s Grateful Dead Tour Tales Two.
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“Formerly Known as”
10-08-89 Hampton Coliseum, Hampton, VA…………………….. (SUN)
Set One: Foolish Heart> Walkin’ Blues, Candyman, Me & My Uncle> Big River, Stagger Lee, Queen Jane, Bird Song> Promised Land
Set Two: Help on the Way> Slipknot!> Franklin’s Tower, Victim or the Crime> Eyes of the World> Drums> Space> Miracle> The Wheel> Gimme Some Lovin’> Morning Dew
E: And We Bid You Goodnight
Last Help>Slipknot>Franklin’s: 09-12-85[284]
Despite my misfortunes this past Summer, my mood is lifted when Cunningham calls to tell me the Dead are going to be playing Hampton undercover as the Warlocks on October 8th & 9th. This is going to be legendary, I reply, but now he’s way more bummed than I was because he’s not allowed to leave the state of New Jersey.
Nobody in my group is jumping at this opportunity to see Total Sickness because they’re unsure about driving all the way to Virginia for unannounced shows that are merely rumor-based. Bob tells me Roy is going with another taper named Mel. I’m totally down and ask Bob to pass that along. Within an hour, I’m set up with a ride from Roy.
With that said, let’s hit the road for what should be something truly meaningful…Although I do have my doubts. Roy and his buddy Mel are going in one car, and yet another taper friend of Roy’s named Josh is driving his new Honda Prelude down, and I’m going with him. We leave in the middle of the night to arrive early in the morning on October 8th.
The drive is going as smoothly as can be in Josh’s Prelude, so much so that I doze off towards the end of the trip. It’s a peaceful rest that I have no plans of ending, but something irks me awake to take a look around. First off, the sun’s coming up, and I see we’re in the left lane heading straight. There is a big hill that slopes down into a big tree-lined gully off to our left. I keep panning to my left to see what Josh has to say. When I get there, I look at his eyes, and they are shut closed. He’s unconscious and doing seventy in the left lane! I instinctually grab the wheel and yell, “WAKE UP!” Josh comes to like he’s coming out of a bad dream. He grips the steering wheel tightly, and we continue down the road, feeling bad.
Now inside the Hampton bubble, we head over to the entrance and see a trailer on wheels that’s selling tickets from inside for the show on Monday night. Sunday night is 100% completely SOLD- OUT. Not bad; we’re halfway there. Next, we drive to the Holiday Inn, which is within walking distance of the arena. It’s only 9:30 am, and way too soon to check in, so we chill in Roy’s car for a few hours. This is so fucking boring. It’s too soon to go in search of tickets, and that ride down here in the middle of the night nearly killed me. I’m done with these midnight rides. As we approach the end of our wait, a hippie van parked next to us starts rockin’ back and forth. They’re fuckin’ in there, I go, and we all laugh, but I am getting lonelier by the day now that Nancy and I are on a break.
We’re finally checked into the room at 1:00 pm. We eat and grab a shower, and then it’s time to dig up tickets for tonight. Roy and I hit up Mercury Boulevard with nothing but our single finger in the air and the sad look of desperation. It was no match for all the other colorful girls and costumed heads that were out there trying to flag down tickets as cars went by. After what seems like a whole afternoon of this, Roy says come with me, someone told him they scored a ticket on the off-ramp of I-64. And we’re off.
Roy walks in front of me and keeps going until he’s on I-64, where he actually scores. He passes me by and goes back to the Holiday Inn. I stay put on the off-ramp, but the cars are whizzing by too fast, and I’m about to give up when a State Trooper Cruiser appears, stops, and the female officer inside tells me to get in the back seat. She starts asking what I’m doing, and I tell her. She goes, oh yeah, we didn’t even know the Grateful Dead were playing at the Coliseum until yesterday. She ultimately let me go with a warning.
Where to now? I think the ticket trailer is an excellent idea for seeing what’s happening. As I figured, Monday night is a complete sell-out now, but many hopefuls are milling around waiting for a break. That’s when a guy who works for the Dead starts talking through a bullhorn, telling everyone to leave basically. He said this is a big deal, and we don’t want to mess it up. Then he said there is a roll call of people coming up that have tickets waiting for them in the trailer, and he reads off about thirty names, with one of them being Jim Morrison. Huh! Maybe I should try to pass for Mr. Mojo Risen, so I go to the trailer, but it’s a complete waste of time, and I hit up Shakedown Street next.
It’s getting close to showtime now, and something needs to be done. It is in the form of Lisa from Montclair, who has one for sixty. Sixty is a lot, but I go for it regardless because this show sounds like it’s going to be something. The $18.50 ticket is hot pink and reads, Formally the Warlocks. It’s gorgeous. I’m low on cash, but at least the pressure of getting in is over. I have just enough time to grab a Big Mac and pre-roll before getting to the rail before the lights go down.
I’m all by myself when the lights dim, right in front of Jerry’s mic stand, instead of my usual spot-on Phil’s side. Formally, the Warlocks come out of the gates with yet another “Foolish Heart” right into “Walkin’ Blues.” Nothing seems out of the ordinary yet. The following number, “Candyman,” is good, and it gets the hit of acid I took an hour ago working. I’m in the groove now and dancing hard. Bob’s Tex>Mex is next. Then we’re on to Jerry’s “Stagger Lee.” I’m singing and dancing along, and when the line, “He shot my Billy dead, now I’m gonna see him hung,” hits, I raise my arms as if I was holding a gun and lowered them right at Jerry in time with the song. He sees me, and he thinks I have a gun. He looks startled; I’m sure of it. As the true professional he is, he just kept going, but I knew I shouldn’t have done that. I think I belong in the Phil Zone. And that’s exactly where I go after they end the set with “Queen Jane,” “Bird Song,” and “Promised Land”.
Okay, this is it. I’m on the rail, right in front of Lesh, and I couldn’t be more ready for some sickness. The lights fall. They’re noodling something familiar, but I can’t quite place it. It’s a timed- out beat, being repeated over and over. What was this?? Wait, it sounds just like when Bill Graham was introducing the band on the Great American Music Hall recording, and they went into OMG… “Help on the Way”. I start to jump up and down on the beat, and sure enough, I nearly hit the ceiling when the defining chords are struck. And the crowd goes insane!! It’s a tune I missed by one show before it was shelved in 1984. If only this euphoric feeling could be bottled. A youngster who’s dancing behind me has lost it entirely and will not stop screaming at the top of his lungs. I finally have to turn around and stare him down until he zips it. This version is perfect. In fact, if I’m not mistaken, I think they used it on the “Without a Net” CD in 1990 because it is flawless. And the Slipknot!> Franklin’s rocks supremely as well.
The last song you wanna hear next, “Victim or the Crime,” follows, then it’s “Eyes of the World” into Drums and Space. Out of Space comes “I Need a Miracle,” “Wheel,” “Gimme Some Lovin’,” and “Morning Dew” to end it. What a well-played set. The “Bid You Goodnight” encore had I not gone to Alpine would have been better, but I still loved it. What a show!
I will pay day by day, anyway, lock, bolt and key.
Crippled but free, I was blind all the time I was learning to see. Help on the way, well, I know only this, I’ve got you today.
Don’t fly away, ’cause I love what I love and I want it that way.
I will stay one more day, like I say, honey, it’s you.
Making it too, without love in a dream it will never come true.
“Help on the Way”
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