My cousin Jeffrey died in 2011 in a plane crash. He played such a significant role in my life and everyday I miss him dearly. I’ve never fully shared our story because there wasn’t really a place where it felt right to do so. Until now….

We were always close as kids but in 1981, everything deepened as we began touring together with the Grateful Dead. What started out as a necessity – our fathers insisted that we get a job during our summers off from college – quickly became something that would forever change our lives in a profound and lasting way.

The idea was simple. We would design a bandana with Grateful Dead motifs and sell them at five shows during the Dead’s 1981 summer swing through the Midwest. We screen printed 300 bandanas, packed up my car, and drove west for about 12 hours to the Zoo Amphitheater in Oklahoma City. The plan was to sell the bandanas for $12 each and finish the mini tour about a week later back at Alpine Valley, a couple hours from our homes in Chicago. If successful we would make a gross profit of about $3,600 which would hopefully cover our expenses and satisfy our dads’ requirement that we be completely self sufficient over our college summers.

Upon arrival at the “Zoo”, Jeffrey and I suddenly found ourselves in the midst of a vibrant and electric parking lot scene filled with music, marijuana and mostly young kids having the time of their lives. It was the most joyful and free place we had ever been a part of. With our minds blown, we started wandering Shakedown Street hoping to sell our bandanas and make enough money in enough time to find and buy tickets for that evening’s show.

On its face we were all there for the concert but there was this palpable feeling that we were also there for something more and for each other and for the next transcendent groovy jam or long overdue bust out. And this was the basis for a bond and the bond grew into a tour community and together we traveled great distances, danced joyfully, and tripped to transcendent heights. It was unlike anything Jeffrey and I had ever experienced before. Heads from all walks of life came together to let go of societal expectations and for a brief moment experience something communal and spiritual and celebratory and ultimately something more aligned with what felt important, meaningful, and soul satisfying to us.

And, if all that wasn’t enough, our bandanas were a big hit, and to our dad’s surprise, we sold out in the first five shows, doubled down with an order of 600 more and headed towards the west coast for ten additional shows.

Upon arrival in Salt Lake City for show number six everything felt different; we were no longer just spectators at concerts – we were part of something much much bigger. And our bandanas quickly became the symbol of our journey; they represented our dedication to the band and their music, and to our traveling community of merry pranksters.

After an amazing night of music at the Salt Palace, we left for Seattle in a caravan of 100 or more cars. Together we moved in unison through mountains and the high desert under a carpet of endless stars. It was another moment in a summer filled with moments where the clock was irrelevant and the group experience ruled. Together, with only 36 hours to get to Seattle, we drove overnight and most of the next day in order to arrive on time for one more day of bandana sales and parking lot hi jinx and one more night of ecstatic dancing to what was the greatest show on earth.

From Seattle we headed south for two shows in Oregon including a favorite of mine at the University of Oregon in Eugene. Next it was into California for two nights in Long Beach, followed by a show in Tempe, Arizona, and ultimately into Las Vegas Nevada for our fifteenth and final show of the summer. The Vegas show was inside the Aladdin Casino and was quite possibly the oddest venue I ever saw the band play.

Unfortunately, Vegas was 2,500 miles away and four days from the beginning of our sophomore year which meant immediately after the end of the show, the summer tour was over. So driving under the cover of a dark desert sky, and this time, on our own, we sang and laughed and hatched our plan to continue touring while “attending college”. And for the next three years the music never stopped.

Forty years and two children later, I’m back on the train with Phish remembering how it all began with Jeffrey and the Grateful Dead. The many adventures we had together, the music that we loved and shared, the endless overnight drives and conversations, the community of like minded souls that we played with and called “family” – these moments shared with Jeffrey will forever be an important part of my story. I hold onto these memories tightly and by sharing them, I celebrate his life and keep what is important to me alive.

And if anyone remembers us or our bandana, please stop to “hello”.

Lastly, thank you Jam Band Graveyard for the space to share this story.