[Vision2020] Fifty Years Ago Today (February 3, 1959)

lfalen lfalen at turbonet.com
Tue Feb 3 10:13:42 PST 2009


I don't like a lot of rock music, particularly hard rock, but Buddy Holly was great.
Roger
-----Original message-----
From: Tom Hansen thansen at moscow.com
Date: Tue, 03 Feb 2009 07:02:04 -0800
To: vision2020 at moscow.com
Subject: [Vision2020] Fifty Years Ago Today (February 3, 1959)

> On February 3, 1959, a small twin-engine plane crashed just outside of 
> Clear Lake, Iowa, killing all aboard.
> 
> In addition to the pilot, Roger Peterson, were
> 
> J. P. "The Big Bopper" Richardson
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aqp1qz4Jb1c
> 
> Ritchie Valens
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=74C_gVCT2wU
> 
> Buddy Holly
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lhgO8rZs1Fg
> 
> It was fifty years ago today . . . 
> 
> February 3, 1959 . . .
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8_lGx3UPpMw
> 
> The Day the Music Died
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BGJqo_bkAuM
> 
> A long, long time ago...
> I can still remember
> How that music used to make me smile.
> And I knew if I had my chance
> That I could make those people dance
> And, maybe, they'd be happy for a while.
> 
> But February made me shiver
> With every paper I'd deliver.
> Bad news on the doorstep;
> I couldn't take one more step.
> 
> I can't remember if I cried
> When I read about his widowed bride,
> But something touched me deep inside
> The day the music died.
> 
> So bye-bye, miss American pie.
> Drove my chevy to the levee,
> But the levee was dry.
> And them good old boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye
> Singin', "this'll be the day that I die.
> "this'll be the day that I die."
> 
> Did you write the book of love,
> And do you have faith in God above,
> If the Bible tells you so? 
> Do you believe in rock 'n roll,
> Can music save your mortal soul,
> And can you teach me how to dance real slow? 
> 
> Well, I know that you're in love with him
> `cause I saw you dancin' in the gym.
> You both kicked off your shoes.
> Man, I dig those rhythm and blues.
> 
> I was a lonely teenage broncin' buck
> With a pink carnation and a pickup truck,
> But I knew I was out of luck
> The day the music died.
> 
> I started singin',
> "bye-bye, miss american pie."
> Drove my chevy to the levee,
> But the levee was dry.
> Them good old boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye
> And singin', "this'll be the day that I die.
> "this'll be the day that I die."
> 
> Now for ten years we've been on our own
> And moss grows fat on a rollin' stone,
> But that's not how it used to be.
> When the jester sang for the king and queen,
> In a coat he borrowed from James Dean
> And a voice that came from you and me,
> 
> Oh, and while the king was looking down,
> The jester stole his thorny crown.
> The courtroom was adjourned;
> No verdict was returned.
> And while Lennon read a book of Marx,
> The quartet practiced in the park,
> And we sang dirges in the dark
> The day the music died.
> 
> We were singing,
> "bye-bye, miss American pie."
> Drove my chevy to the levee,
> But the levee was dry.
> Them good old boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye
> And singin', "this'll be the day that I die.
> "this'll be the day that I die."
> 
> Helter skelter in a summer swelter.
> The birds flew off with a fallout shelter,
> Eight miles high and falling fast.
> It landed foul on the grass.
> The players tried for a forward pass,
> With the jester on the sidelines in a cast.
> 
> Now the half-time air was sweet perfume
> While the sergeants played a marching tune.
> We all got up to dance,
> Oh, but we never got the chance!
> `cause the players tried to take the field;
> The marching band refused to yield.
> Do you recall what was revealed
> The day the music died? 
> 
> We started singing,
> "bye-bye, miss American pie."
> Drove my chevy to the levee,
> But the levee was dry.
> Them good old boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye
> And singin', "this'll be the day that I die.
> "this'll be the day that I die."
> 
> Oh, and there we were all in one place,
> A generation lost in space
> With no time left to start again.
> So come on: jack be nimble, jack be quick!
> Jack flash sat on a candlestick
> Cause fire is the devil's only friend.
> 
> Oh, and as I watched him on the stage
> My hands were clenched in fists of rage.
> No angel born in hell
> Could break that satan's spell.
> And as the flames climbed high into the night
> To light the sacrificial rite,
> I saw satan laughing with delight
> The day the music died
> 
> He was singing,
> "bye-bye, miss American pie."
> Drove my chevy to the levee,
> But the levee was dry.
> Them good old boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye
> And singin', "this'll be the day that I die.
> "this'll be the day that I die."
> 
> I met a girl who sang the blues
> And I asked her for some happy news,
> But she just smiled and turned away.
> I went down to the sacred store
> Where I'd heard the music years before,
> But the man there said the music wouldn't play.
> 
> And in the streets: the children screamed,
> The lovers cried, and the poets dreamed.
> But not a word was spoken;
> The church bells all were broken.
> And the three men I admire most:
> The father, son, and the holy ghost,
> They caught the last train for the coast
> The day the music died.
> 
> And they were singing,
> "bye-bye, miss American pie."
> Drove my chevy to the levee,
> But the levee was dry.
> And them good old boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye
> Singin', "this'll be the day that I die.
> "this'll be the day that I die."
> 
> They were singing,
> "bye-bye, miss American pie."
> Drove my chevy to the levee,
> But the levee was dry.
> Them good old boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye
> Singin', "this'll be the day that I die." 
> 
> --------------------------------------------------
> 
> Rock on, Moscow.
> 
> Tom Hansen
> Moscow, Idaho
>  
> "For a lapsed Lutheran born-again Buddhist pan-Humanist Universalist 
> Unitarian Wiccan Agnostic like myself there's really no reason ever to go 
> to work."
> 
> - Roy Zimmerman
> 
> 
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