Fare You Well

adieu...jerry, phil, bobby, donna jean

A humble California band began playing together in the 1960s. Their young teenage member, Bob Weir, recently died at age 78. One founding member of The Grateful Dead band remains (Bill Kreutzman), but Jerry Garcia left early in 1995, Phil Lesh died in 2024. Now the “kid” of the band is gone too. The music and mythology of Grateful Dead will remain a treasure in the hearts of fans. My own connection began as a college student in 1972. I had a boyfriend who was a self-proclaimed Deadhead, a term that made me cringe, even back then. Still, I dove in headfirst when I discovered how the art of music could inform my visual art.

Bakelite Rose Pin, gift from Deadhead boyfriend, 1976

My first album was Live Dead. Listening was an exercise in understanding the psychedelia of the endless ribbon of the jam aesthetic that informed the Deadhead fanbase, an underground clique of knowing devotees who drank the sound and ideology. And what about those roses?

Several women have been part of the band’s work in various capacities—relationship, photography, engineering, lighting, merchandizing. Only one was inducted, along with the other band members, into The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1994. Donna Jean Godchaux performed with the Dead as vocalist from 1972 through 1979. Her husband, Keith Godchaux played keyboard during that time. The same age as Bob Weir, Donna Jean passed away a few months ago.

Bob Weir, 1947 - 2026 Donna Jean Godchaux, 1947 - 2025

Not just rock and roll, the dreamy otherworldly Dead experience had more of a connection to humanity, love, and carrying on, rather than angst against all that was wrong with the world. I attended the Summer Jam in 1973 and wrote about that in Rite of Passage, a story in my 2023 memoir, The Shape of Becoming.

Immersed in the Grateful Dead sensibility beyond tie dye t-shirts sparked an interest in further seeking, but my taste in music evolved. The 1979 New Year’s Eve show in Oakland, California was the last one I attended. Other interests took over. Still, I always kept an eye on how the Dead were gaining in popularity.

Jerry, Bobby, Phil - 1960s Jerry, Donna Jean, Bob - 1970s

By the time Touch of Grey became a radio hit in the late 1980s, the band had found its way into the mainstream with a commercialism fueled by fans selling souvenirs to other fans at shows. Additional “merch” became available at a Terrapin Station shop in Buffalo. In 2009 a number of Terrapin Station marijuana dispensaries opened in states where legalization had been voted in. Clearly, a new economy that supported a lot of people had emerged, but the rarified underground aspect was gone. From my point of view, every aspect of cool had slipped away, along with mystery and aesthetic. Nonetheless, I continued to hold a special place for the band that once was.

I admit to visiting Bloomingdales in 1992 to see the line of Jerry Garcia designs produced on silk scarves and ties. I still have this design on a small scarf.

So much of the appeal was Jerry Garcia.

I had drifted away from music of the Dead for more than a decade when I was standing in line for an ice cream cone in Albany with Janet and overheard someone mention that Jerry Garcia had died. We had not yet experienced much death. It was a shock—as if a personal friend or family member had died. We joined others in the large city park that evening as a candlelight vigil formed to honor the end of an era.

Like so much in life, the Dead phenomenon grew from choice and chance. Garcia gathered the right musicians at the right time when there was a thirst for something unspoken that he was able to define through the music—a gateway to a kind of secular spirituality grew. Sadly, too many of the devotees were lost to drugs along the way, including Jerry Garcia. Early on, the band members were known to indulge in too much themselves, but they also evolved to embrace healthier lifestyles as they aged.

The music lives on in countless cassette tapes, digital playlists, cover bands and people touched by the sound. I keep a few favorites on playlists that I’d rather hear while driving than just about anything else.

Rest in Peace Bob Weir, Phil Lesh, Jerry Garcia…and Donna Jean Godchaux.

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