Bobby Weir at Red Rocks playing "Sugar Magnolia." Taken from the front row of Red Rocks Amphitheater, September 5, 1985, during the last song of the second set.
When Promoter Barry Fey saw this photo the next day, he got excited like a true Deadhead and just had to show it to Bobby Weir. He asked if he could go backstage and show it to him. I said sure, but get him to sign it! -- Teri Metallo
NEDERLAND — “You can’t stop me Mom, I’m 18 now!” That was the last thing I said to my mother as I hopped in the car and began my journey to AllGood 2010.
I was determined to make it to the live music mecca that was Marvin’s Mountain Top, located in Masontown, West Virginia. Looking back, it was probably one of the most formative decisions I ever made.
Although I was spinning American Beauty on CD in my '87 Chevrolet Blazer almost daily, I didn’t go to AllGood for Furthur. I was on my way to see Lotus, SOJA, and was most excited for Bassnectar. I had no idea what I was about to witness.
At the time, things weren’t great at home. I tried to avoid it as much as I possibly could. My mother was a saint, and I was always taken care of, but there was a lot of conflict between my parents. My dad struggled to live a stable life.
I hadn’t yet formed the strong connections I have with my sisters. I never really felt totally at home in school, as I was a middle-class child in a very wealthy district. I just wanted to belong somewhere.
Within hours of being at the music festival—heavily influenced by Grateful Dead culture—I felt accepted in a way I never had before. Walking barefoot in tie-dyed clothes, exchanging hugs and smiles with strangers, and dancing joyfully and freely to the music was something I hadn’t yet experienced at home.
This was my introduction to the jam scene. After the experience, I was following something entirely different. From Widespread Panic to Furthur, which featured Bob Weir and Phil Lesh of the Grateful Dead, my ears and my heart had been filled with something that felt so real and moved me so deeply, it changed who I was.
The more I learned about Bob Weir, the more I felt connected to him. Learning of him going on tour with the Grateful Dead at 17, leaving home and finding a family of his own all while creating one of the most historic music movements of all time, inspired me greatly. He inspired me to be myself. His songwriting was so interesting to listen to, and I wanted to play it loud every chance I got.
Life got in the way, and it wasn’t until 2013 at Interlockin Festival in Arrington, Virginia (later renamed to Lockn’ Festival) that I got to immerse myself in this culture again. As soon as I set foot on Oak Ridge Farm, I promised myself that I would never go that long again without following what was left of the Dead in one way or another.
From Phil Lesh & The Terrapin Family Band to Dead & Co., I saw the remaining members of the Dead any chance I had. We all knew they weren’t going to be here forever, and I felt so incredibly grateful for the chance to be able to see real members of the original band.
There’s one performance that always sticks out in my mind. At Lockn’ Festival in 2017 with Joe Russo’s Almost Dead, a Dead cover band, Bob Weir came out and performed Black Throated Wind, which became my favorite Weir song. The passion he performed with and the energy exchange between him and the crowd made me feel like I was finally seeing the Grateful Dead in real time.
After that late-night Lockn’ performance, I cherished every show I got to see Weir perform in so deeply because I knew how special it was that he was still going, after losing so much. I felt his pain, I felt his joy, I felt his heart, and I felt that every time I got the chance to see him was a cosmic gift.
So many of today’s younger Deadheads didn’t see Jerry. I shared the planet with him for only about three years. Bob was a bridge between the present and the past. His desire to continue to play the music and lead the Dead movement is the reason why I got to experience what I have. For that, I feel a love so deep for Weir, that it truly feels as if I knew him.
There’s no comparing members when it comes to the Grateful Dead. Each person who made a contribution was a part of what made the band so iconic, but Bob was one of my favorites. His unique rhythm guitar playing paired with his timeless lyrics and jazz-inspired chord progressions continue to go unmatched in my humble opinion.
Weir, and every member of the Dead, lives on, not only through the music they created, but through the many souls they have touched who will continue to perform their music and the many souls who will keep showing up to listen to the music play.
The Grateful Dead and the kind of soulful living they inspired will never die, and Bob Weir’s perseverance is one of the reasons I got to experience it.
I will forever be thankful for the fact that my life path brought me to Bob Weir and the music of The Grateful Dead. I know Bob is floating through the cosmos, “standing in a shaft of light, rising up to paradise.”
We will miss him, and already do, here on Earth but I believe the impact he left will be felt eternally. Thank you, Bob. You know our love will not fade away.
