Though Ron “Pigpen” McKernan continued to feel like he was being pushed out of the Grateful Dead’s creative circle, he could still make an impression. Just ask Led Zeppelin, who got an up-close and personal look at Pig’s .22-caliber pistol. The fear that they felt standing next to what seemed like, to them, to be an American cowboy in the flesh was dwarfed months later…by the fear and violence that ran rampant at the Altamont Speedway.
This episode contains content that may be disturbing to some listeners and includes graphic depictions of violence.
Sources:
A Long Strange Trip: The Inside Story of the Grateful Dead, by Dennis McNally
Searching for the Sound, by Phil Lesh
Inside Herb Greene’s Led Zeppelin Photos (YouTube)
The Dead vs. Led Zeppelin (Dead Essays)
Pigpen Look Alike Contest (Part Two) (Dead.net)
No Woodstock: Grateful Dead's role in infamous Altamont concert (East Bay Times)
Good Old Grateful Dead (Rolling Stone)
Pigpen Solo Projects 1969, 1971, 1973 (Why?) (Live Lost Dead)
December 21, 1967: Owsley Bust (Dead Sources)
Grateful Dead – 1969 Sealed 1st Pressing AOXOMOXOA, With Original Mix (Record Mecca)
Death, debris in Altamont concert wake (UPI Archives)
Altamont At 50: The Disastrous Concert That Brought The '60s To A Crashing Halt (Forbes)
The Manson Family murders and Helter Skelter, explained (Vox)
Manson Family Murders Fast Facts (CNN)
Leno And Rosemary LaBianca: The Couple Brutally Murdered By The Manson Family (All That’s Interesting)
Who Were Manson Family Victims Leno And Rosemary LaBianca? (Oxygen)
For behind the scenes info and news on this episode, follow:
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:01):
Okay, Double Elvis. This episode contains content that may be
disturbing to some listeners. Please check the show notes for
more information. Club is the production of I Heart Radio
and Double Elvis. Ron Pigpen mcernan died at the age
(00:24):
of and he lived a life that was as uncertain
as a straight bullet. I can give you twenty seven
reasons why that statement is true. Four would be the
number of English rockers he scared off with his caliber
pistol while casually taking target practice during a photo shoot.
Another eight would be the number of tracks on The
(00:44):
Dead's third album he would have absolutely no input on.
His only appearance on the record came from live performances
that were added to the mix. Eight more would be
the number of the Dead's ranks would swell to, leaving
pig Pen even more lost in the shuffle of influence.
Another three would be the number of rock stars who
would be assaulted before The Dead were scheduled to take
(01:06):
the stage at a free concert in shaking the nerves
of the group who were now terrified as to what
awaited them. And four would be the number of years
pig Pen had left to live when the concert came
to its sinister and infamous conclusion. All totally on this
(01:26):
our sixth episode of season five, twenty two caliber photo shoots, assault,
shaken nerves, sinister conclusions, and Ron Pigpen mccernin. I'm Jake
Brennan in this is the twenty seven Club. M you
(02:25):
gotta squeeze us in. Herb The Grateful Dead's manager, Rock Scully,
was glued to a pay phone. He looked back at
the entirety of the band standing behind him. He rubbed
his eyes and pleaded into the receiver. Look, we have
shows to promote. Man, it's it's gonna look strange. It
was going to look strange because the Dead were no
longer a band of six. Tom Constant, the keyboard player
(02:48):
who filled in during round Pigpen mccurtin's absence, was staying
on as a full time member. Even though Pigpen was
back in the fold, the band needed new promotional shots
as soon as possible. To like the change, The old
photos weren't going to cut it. Photographer Herb Green had
shot every iteration of the band to that point. Her
was the guy to see in San Francisco when your
(03:11):
band needed some killer shots. That's why the four English
Chaps were currently standing in her studio. It was their
first tour of the States and her was their first
stop in the city by the Bay. Her told Rock
to come by. He'd tried to fit them in. Maybe
he would introduce the dead to this new group from
across the pond bridge the Continental Gap. Have a bit
(03:32):
of a party, make a day of it. Herb then
hung up the phone and returned to his subjects. Robert Plant,
Jimmy Page, John Bonham and John Paul Jones led Zeppelin.
The dress of England's newest hit makers was pristine. Robert
Plants golden locks bounced over a button down shirt and
delicate floral under shirt. Jimmy Page was classically cool and
(03:55):
a tan Pco bontomore black oather jacket over a snug
patterned sweater. And John Paul Jones dressed in a plane
but elegant crew neck and tight slacks. All clean shaven
save for a tidy mustache on Bonzo's upper lip. The
four not only looked a part, they played the part,
and they were months away from becoming one of the
(04:16):
biggest bands in the world and international sex symbolis to
boot that was an interdimensional parallel to the Grateful Dead
who just moments later we're falling into the door of
Herbs Studio. They were led by a frantic rock Scully.
Tagging closely behind was Jerry Garcia, wearing a poncho and
(04:37):
sporting a magnificently large bushy beer, Mickey hard in the
first Game Cab, an enormous mustache, Phil Lash with raging sideburns,
and a denim jacket. Bill Kurtzman wearing a plane jacket
and striped shirt, looking like he had just finished a
shift driving a cab, but perpetually days Bob were his
wild ponytail threatening to unleash itself on the room. Tom
(04:59):
Constantin with carefully parted hair, handlebar mustache and a cane,
and of course, pig Pan. In this crew of mismatched parts,
pig Pen was perhaps the most outlantish of them all.
He wore a dark jacket bearing an enormous pattern of
flowers and ornate vines on its back panel. Thick black
goatee is beaten in leather. Cowboy hat was marked with
(05:22):
sweat stains and looked like it had been run over
by several eighteen wheelers. He also carried something on his
waist a twenty two caliber pistol. As Rock made a
beeline for her, the Dead stood impatiently waiting to get
the session started. Zeppelin didn't even know what to make
the guy standing next to them bloody Americans. Honestly, it
(05:43):
was hard to focus on anything else in the room
besides this cowboy who was currently slinging his twenty two
around and pointing at the ceiling. Pig Pen leaned back
toward Jerry Garcia, and then he pointed to a couple
of objects at the far end of the studio and
stared down the barrel, squinted one eye, and then with
at least a few rounds of ammunition into the ceiling,
saying to Jerry, fuck missed it. Pig Pen laughed, as
(06:06):
the rest of the Dead led Zeppelin, We're not laughing.
These Yanks seemed downright in maniac. Was this what the
West was really like? Did cowboys roamed the streets and
shoot its ceilings? Did everyone have a gun? Herb Green's
newest clients couldn't get out the door fast enough, which
meant that the Dead were ready for their close up.
(06:27):
The band positioned themselves in front of the camera all
seven of them all seven that was still taking a
little of getting used to. They seem to be acquiring
new members at a steady rate, first Mickey, now Tom,
and if they kept expanding, they need a caravan to
transport them two shows. Pigpens grasp on the whole situation
was about as loose as he had been with his
(06:48):
twenty two. The photo session was smack dab in the
middle of the des recording sessions for what would become
their third studio album, Oxo Oxoa. Pig who had been
kicked back to Congos during livets, wasn't even involved in
the recording process yet. In fact, by the time The
Dead completed the studio sessions, Tom's takes on keyboard had
(07:09):
become the definitive ones. On the album's back cover, Pigpen
was listed last in the musician credits, and his credit
didn't even indicate he was a musician. It's simply read
Ron McKernan pig Pen. He wouldn't have even been on
the album at all if Jerry and Phil hadn't decided
to mix in live tracks with the studio tracks. This
(07:31):
strange evolution of The Grateful Dead's music walked hand in
hand with the group shifting dynamics. They were just experimenting
with sounds and psychedelics anymore. The music had become beyond
complex and difficult. The pressure is to continually transform, the
pressure to chase a sound, the pressure to push into
the outer reaches of an auditory solar system. We're all
(07:52):
beginning to take a toll on the Grateful Dead. They
half nitrous oxide when they sat over the mixing board,
a steady supply, have momentary lapses of concentration to get
through the album. The music they heard coming from the
monitors was intricate and impossibly elaborate, and it was starting
to draw a hard line in the way the Dead
performed live. The Grateful Dead had survived to split as
(08:16):
a band, but their live act had not. The beginning
of their shows were now a deep exploration of the
outer rim of the universe, jazzy acid soaked fits of
improv over a complex structures, and they would then downshift
into the folk influenced ballads and old weird Americana that
Jerry and Robert Hunter were obsessed with. At this point,
(08:37):
Pigpen would finally emerge from where he'd been tucked away
off to the side of the stage, leaving the congoes
behind to take center stage and deliver a hard driving
set of R and B. This was where a Pigpen shine.
He was in his element, dancing, hollering and enticing the
audience to find someone to take home with him. And
it worked. The audience would give the energy back to
(08:59):
pig Pen, feeding into his act, creating a call and
response of pure ecstasy that pig Pen would digest and return.
It was a perfect cyclical movement of experience and understanding
that this was a really good time and there was
no other place you needed to be but right here,
right now. Big Pen stage presence was magnifying, It was electrifying,
(09:20):
It was carnal. But that wasn't where the Dead were headed.
They all knew it. Jerry had insisted for a while
the Pigpen needed his time center stage. Hell, just look
at the back cover of ox and Oxoa. Ron McKernan
may not be listed as a musician, but he's pictured
at the very center of the Grateful Dead family, lounging
on the lawn, surrounded by other band members, good friends
(09:41):
of the band, and children, including a five year old
girl that for a time was alleged to be Courtney Love,
despite Love herself claiming it was her and the photo
it was later proven to be Bill's daughter, who was
the same age. Regardless, it would make sense that Courtney
Love would be there in the picture inheriting the don't
give a fu atitude that is steaming off pig Pen
(10:02):
in that classic photograph. Pig Pen was the best showman
of the lot. And when he was singing Midnight Hour,
Turn on your Lovelight, something happened in the audience, something
happened to the audience, something that nobody else in the
band could elictit. Just look at how everything revolves around
him in that portrait. He didn't need to have an
instrument beside his name. He was Pigpen at the center
(10:23):
of the Grateful Dead, and he held it all together.
And besides, pig Pen could close a show like a motherfucker.
The cracks were starting to show, even on songs Pigpen
like to perform. Extended jams on lovel would inevitably cause
Pigpen to become detached, disassociated, disinterested. He would sing his
verses and then vamp on something basic while the rest
(10:45):
of the Grateful Dead took off in their spaceship, and
that's when it was time to sip Thunderbird by the
time until the song came to a close, and only
then would pig Pen finally hop back in and give
it on a st effort. And that ship wasn't working
for Jerry. That ship wasn't working for the debt because
where they were going wasn't anywhere remotely close to where
they had been, and for Pigman that meant trouble ahead.
(11:36):
The sun spilled on the pig Pen's face. He looked
over at his girl, V, who was still asleep, and smiled.
He wasn't like the girls on the road or the
girls who came before. V was special. What they had
together was special. Where they were was special. It was
nine and they were at Mickey Hart's ranch in Nevada, California,
(12:00):
some thirty miles away from the madness of the Hay
and pig Pen Well, pig Pen was happy. Pig pulled
himself out of bed and fetched a bottle and went
for a smoke on the porch. The mid morning sun
filled the entire scene with a warm yellow glow. Large
ancient trees, dogs running, the sound of hands clucking in
(12:21):
the extended grateful Dead family's children playing nearby. It was serene,
and Pigpens strapped on his pistol, wasn't playing at being
a cowboy anymore. Hell he was a cowboy, and so
were the rest of the Dead. The band wasn't just
dabbling in country western music. They were riding horses, taking
target practice on the range, and raising chickens. Mickey leased
(12:44):
the firm just a few months before as an attempt
to escape the insanity that was San Francisco, and an
escape was what they all needed. Pig and v joined
Mickey first, and then one by one, the rest of
the band made their way out. The friends, family and
other music were rotated on and off the property. Of course,
there were also various dealers providing any chemical the group desired,
(13:06):
and even some Hell's Angels made the journey have to
check out Mickey's firm, and the angels may have dressed
the same as Pick, but they weren't necessarily as five.
Regardless of the constant guests and hangers on, the fourteen
acre piece of land became a respite, a chance for
the dead to slow down. They hadn't been watching their
speed at all, and the experimentation in all aspects of
(13:29):
the group's life was putting them on a fast track
to a burnout. The drugs, the music, the living arrangements,
it was all starting to catch up on Mickey's firm.
After long days of firing rifles and riding horses, the
Grateful Dead would play music once again. The sound was
taking a new direction. In This new direction was, in
(13:49):
no small part another reaction to what was going on
at the time. The complexities of psychedelia had worn out
their welcome, walking hand in hand with the downwards biral
of the end of the nineteen sixties. The decade began
with such hopefulness, and it was punctuated by tragedy. Martin
Luther King shot dead, Bobby Kennedy gunned down just months later,
(14:13):
everyone feeling like they're fixing a die Hannoi Watts, Chicago, Detroit,
and the malaise of the sixties left the country feeling hungover,
just like the Dead felt with their music. That's what
the new direction was all about. Bob Dylan, the Band,
the Birds, Buffalo, Springfield, they were all doing it, reaching
back that old weird America, the roots, the folk ways,
(14:35):
the stuff the Dead had vibed on in their earliest days. Jerry,
Bob and Phil began to write new tunes with Robert
Hunter's lyrics. Robert was quickly becoming the eighth member of
the group. They did the old style their peers were
championing in a new way, though, putting the grateful Dead
stamp on it. Something close to what country rock singer
(14:58):
Graham Parsons would describe best cosmic American music. Another cosmic Cowboys,
Steven Stills, had become a frequent visitor to Mickey's farm.
The Dead thought Crosby Stills in nash had some far
out vibrations. Influenced by their friends group, Jerry, Bob and
Phil began to experiment with vocal harmonies, a style that
would become a new hallmark of the Dead sound. But
(15:20):
once again, this new way left little room for Pigpen.
Pig was still invisible for a majority of the Dead shows.
Night after night, he'd hang back, beating his congas and
pounding beers during the jazz up songs of Osa Maksoa.
And when he did finally step to the keys and
mike to take lead vocals on his signature tunes, he'd
turned his organ down during the extended jams. Night after night,
(15:44):
Pigpen refused to take the musical trip with the rest
of the Grateful Dead, just to see had refused those
other mind altering trips. The night after night, Jerry Garcia
shot Pigpen looks on stage, the ones that simultaneously tried
to keep him honest also urge him on. The rest
of the members of the Dead knew something was amiss,
(16:05):
but Pigpen was hard to read, always positive, always open.
It's not like his drinking habits or some great insight
into his inner emotional state. Drinking was what it had
always been and every day, all day occupation. Pigpen didn't
complain about his place in the band, on stage or
on an album. He simply showed up and did what
(16:26):
was asked of him, no matter how minimal the contribution.
The band had nothing but love for their brother. They
stuffed pig Pen songs at every set and found new
songs that could become future Pigpen standards like Otis Reddings
hard to handle in the Rascals Good Loving. The band
didn't necessarily want to move in an R and B direction.
(16:46):
It was all done and more of an effort to
keep Pigpen motivated and engaged. When Pigpen was engaged, he
was a force of nature. So was his half bike
or half cowboy image. Pigpen's face graced the first piece
of merchandise to Dead ever made a T shirt with
text Pigpen under his silhouetted likeness. The Pigpen lookalike contest
(17:08):
was currently being used to promote their new album, an
album Pigpen hadn't even worked on. Pigpen didn't want the fame,
he didn't want the notoriety. He didn't even really care
about success. He just wanted to play the blues with
his friends. And those thoughts ran through Pigpen's head as
he listened to Jerry ram Belong to Rolling Stone writer
Michael Lydon about acid Rock, the Pranksters, and Ken Kiss.
(17:30):
Rolling Stone labeled Jerry the source of the Dead's magic,
fill his other half, and said that pig was not
primarily a musician, as if he was being given a
chance to be. But still, despite that backhanded compliment or
whatever it was, there was Pig's face, the non musician,
the odd man out on the fucking cover of Rolling
(17:51):
Stone magazine with his brothers, the grateful Dead weren't reaching
a peak, and they weren't being eclipsed by other groups,
and they weren't fading into obscurity. The Grateful Dead had
staying power, hence the rolling Stone cover, and their popularity
was only growing. That popularity landed them a spot in
(18:11):
the Woodstock lineup in the summer of nineteen sixty nine.
It was a clear indicator that the movement they had
helped spark on the West Coast was a national, if
not global, phenomenon. But just because the Dead were on
the fast track to enduring fame didn't mean that cracks
weren't starting to appear, not just in the band's organization,
the whole damn movement. Woodstock may have projected the ideals
(18:35):
of peace, love and understanding, but they were momentary, if
they were real at all, And as the decade drew
to a close, something dark waited in the wings for
that wide eyed hopefulness. Another concert was waiting, one that
would expose the supposed bliss of Woodstock as nothing more
than a fantasy, a dream. I would say, total bunk.
(18:56):
There was no peace, no love. There was just the sea,
the underbelly, the thing that had always been there, and
the thing that always would. The devil would have his due.
We'll be right back after this word we were. Pig
(19:20):
Pen sat in the back of the park bus, white
knuckling a bottle of Southern Comfort. He slowly brought the
bottle to his mouth with a shaky hand. Things hadn't
gone his planning. Quite the opposite, really. The Free Concert
was supposed to be a companion piece to Woodstock, but
things went wrong from the jump. The concert was originally
slated for the picturesque Golden Gate Park, with the San
(19:43):
Francisco City Council had enough of the whole hippie experience
and the venue changed last minute to this dusty spit
of land. Mickey Heart's Farm had been considered as an
option at one point. Pig Pen would have preferred Nicky's firm.
But here they were at Altamont Speedway. Pig took another
poll of soco. It wasn't taking the edge off as
(20:04):
he had hoped. He should have known that the edge
would be there for a damn long time. The minut
he saw the Hell's angels, and the librations were negative
from the second. The grateful that arrived forced to wait
around for hours while a helicopter ferry musicians over to
the venue. Just like Woodstock, the concert site was woefully
underprepared for the amount of people who would arrive, and
(20:25):
the place became nearly inaccessible by car. The place was
also slowly becoming a war zone. Jefferson airplane set went
sideways when guitarists already bowing, got himself knocked out by
a Hell's angel. Stephen Stills was stabbed in the leg
by another house angel who was off his rock around
amphetamins and beer. Mick Jagger had been punched in the
face by a fan when the Rolling Stones arrived via helicopter,
(20:48):
and now the Grateful Dead were being told to stay
in their truck until they took the stage. I'm not
fucking going out there, man Jerry, repeated his new mantra
at the front of the truck they had been told
to waiting. His wife, Mountain Girl, tried to settle him
down and hope some grass would do the trick. It didn't.
Pigpen peered out of the truck window at the chaos
(21:09):
it was taking place. He watched as a few angels
roughed up and making man just a few dozen yards away.
Pig Pen shook his head and rock Scully had been
obsessed with the idea of Dead sharing a stage with Stones.
The concept of the free show to give back to
the fans was tried and true in the Dead's world,
but watching the chaos and fold, Pigpen had to ask
(21:30):
himself was it all worth it? Which one of the
Dead would be the next victim of the concert's madness.
That was the question on everyone's mind was on Pigpen's
mind too, but he also wondered how the funck he
even got there in the first place. Just a few
months ago, things have been looking up. The Grateful Dead
had wrapped up their contract with Warner Brothers. Their three
(21:52):
album deal had come to an end, and so of
the Dead's run with Psychedelia. That was a net positive
for pig who didn't fit in with the music any out.
The tunes they have been crafting up at Mickey's firm
were a start, but they needed to take them on
the road and test them out. That's just what they did.
Robert hunter Pen lyrics like Uncle John's Band, Dire Wolf
and Cumberland Blues, and the group had brought the songs
(22:15):
to life and sets throughout the year. The new songs
described lost souls in old American towns, cold winters, way
up nors, and Appalachian traditions. They also contained open commentary
on the summer of love and it's fallout and what
maybe it had all really meant. It wasn't just a
new direction, it was a hard reset. Another unrecorded song
(22:37):
debut in nine nine was easy Wind, a song influenced
chiefly by the music and legend of Delta blues man
Robert Johnson. A song about a hard drinking highwayman who
just keeps showing up to work day after day, chipping
away at the road, knowing it'll someday bring someone in
the right direction. A song about desperation and about knowing
(22:58):
that the end is near, of pushing forward. Nonetheless, words
that Robert Hunter had written with pig Pen in mind,
and though Robert may have only associated the song with
pig Pen because of its style and performance, the lyrics
were starting to fit in a most appropriate way. Pig
Pen had been hammering away at the blues his whole
(23:19):
life and his whole career with a grateful dead He
kept his head down, did what was asked of him,
and always kept the bottle handy during downtime. That fact
wasn't lost on the rest of the band. That's why
it made sense to kick around the idea of pig
Pen cutting a solo album. Pig hit the studio as
Jerry Bob. In some session positions. They recorded some old
(23:40):
country songs, but the full project never came to fruition.
The Dead's first ever recording contract with Warner Brothers and
pig Pen solo album recording session served as a glorified
scouting session to check out other companies facilities. The pig
Pen solo album faded into obscurity and legend as of
what could ben moment in rock and roll, and while
(24:02):
pig Pen settled into his new role at the bottom
of The Dead's hierarchy, he began to spend more time
on his own. It was already like point teeth to
get Pigpen out of his hotel room on a typical day,
but now he wouldn't even enjoy off days with the band.
He often chose to stay in his room, drink and
maybe play a little acoustic guitar. The rest of the group,
(24:22):
the managers and the roadies, had to try desperately to
convince pig Pen to emerge from his cave, and that's
exactly where he was now, seated in the back of
the bus by himself. As the alarming anarchy of Altamont
was unfolding around their little bubble, it was time to
make a decision on whether they would play or not.
(24:42):
It was an easy one. Every single member of the
Dead was fucking out. They booked it for the chopper.
Bad crammed into the cabin and took off. While the
Dead were airborne, the Rolling Stones took the stage, and
the night descended further and further into chaos. The Hell's
Angels that beca infuriated with a long day of smashing,
saucerrided concert goers, and the saucerided concert goers were sick
(25:06):
of the Hell's Angels. One fan rushed the stage with
a pistol in the middle of the Rolling Stone set
the Hell's Angels stabbing to death on the spot. Another
man drowned in nearby irrigation ditch. Two more were run
over at their campsite. Someone tried to jump off a
fort overpass after taking too much of whatever he was
taking and shattered his pelvis, And there were fights everywhere.
(25:28):
Traffic to. The venue was backed up for twenty miles.
There were a hundred bathrooms for three hundred thousand people,
and there was speed, cocaine, LSD and rivers of alcohol
everywhere you looked. The Grateful Dead had evacuated just in
time to miss the worst of it, But they were
scheduled to play another show that evening, and they backed
(25:48):
out of that one too. The scene at Alton had
shaken them, and it would soon shape The world had
become the end of something hopeful in the beginning of
something sinis Here. Rosemary LaBianca sat on a sofa in
(26:27):
the living room of her Los Angeles home. She couldn't
stop reading the newspaper article that was laid out on
the coffee table in front of her. It hurt to
read it and reread it, but she couldn't look away.
Things have been escalating the last few years in her city,
but this a five person massacre at the home of
the Hollywood elite. What the hell? Was nobody safe anymore?
(26:50):
For the rest of the day, she couldn't shake the
anxiety the article had made her feel. But she slept
hard that night, so hard that she didn't wake up
to the sound of an alarm m or the sound
of birds chirping outside her bedroom window. Instead, she was
awoken when she was violently dragged out of bed at
gunpoint by a man with shaggy hair and a bushy beard,
(27:11):
who then tossed her onto her living room floor. Her husband,
we know, who had fallen asleep on the sofa, had
his hands tied and was also being held at gunpoint
by another man with a bushy beard and long hair,
only this one was slightly shorter. What are you doing,
Rosemary pleaded, Take whatever you want, please, just just don't
hurt us. The two men looked at each other and grinned.
(27:33):
They covered the couple's heads with pillowcases and tied them
off of the power chords from some nearby lamps. They
then bound Rosemary's hands like her husband's. She heard the
men whisper to each other. Footsteps, the back door opened
and closed silence. Rosemary could tell there was one man
left in the room, and he began to pace, and
(27:53):
she began to hyper ventily, what do you want from us?
But before anyone could answer, the door opened again, and
Rosemary heard a half dozen footsteps, then a barked order
to throw Rosemary back into the bedroom. As she was
dragged down the hall, she heard the sound of a
blade unsheathed, and then the sound of metal through flesh.
She imagined the worst, the thought of her husband lying
(28:16):
in a pool of his own blood. Her escorts tossed
her onto the floor of her bedroom. She wouldn't let
Leno die, not without a fight. Rosemary stood up, pushed
her a sound with as much violent force as she
could muster, and then began to swing the lantern around
her neck. They were stunned and backed away. Then another
terrible silence and more terrible footsteps, a sudden piercing pain,
(28:38):
then darkness. When the police arrived the next day, they
found the bodies of Rosemary and Lena la Bianca mutilated
in their house. The words of rise and desk to
pigs have been painted on the wall, and blood helter
Skelter was smeared in the same red stain across the fridge.
(28:59):
Months later, Charles Manson and members of his so called
family were arrested. They were charged not only with the
murder of the La Bancas, but with the infamous massacre
at the home of Roman Polanski and Sharon Tape. The
one Rosemary had read about in the paper. Much like
the Grateful Dead, and like many social groups during that time,
(29:20):
Charles Manson had organized communital Living to pursue a new
means of life outside of society, free, liberated. But unlike
Grateful Dead, Charles Manson's motives were not pure. He had
studied theology, psychology, and culture and took advantage of the
idealism about the sixties to manipulate wide eyed youth into
(29:41):
joining his fucked up family. He indoctrinated them, fed them lies,
and brainwashed them. Manson twisted the counterculture values of the
time to suit his own needs. It was an extreme
manifestation of the hates flood of young kids looking to
be absorbed into the scene of the mess at Altamont,
of the continued commodification and marketing of the hippies and
(30:01):
rock and roll. It was horrifying and something had to give,
and as the nineteen sixties gave way to the nineteen seventies,
the country was in need of a hard reset, and
so were the Grateful Dead. The Dead needed to get
off the merry go round, strip away all the unnecessary
elements of their sound and style. Pig Pen was on
(30:23):
board for all that he was hopeful that they returned
from their intergalactic elisd trip and come back to Earth,
allowing him to catch up, or they caught their breath.
The grateful Dead weren't slowing down, they were simply changing
their perspective. Pig Pen, unfortunately, would never catch up. Altimont
(30:44):
ended in chaos, and the calendar flipped from December nineteen
sixty nine to January seventy and it was all there
on the final track of the record released in December
by the band, the headline that faithful day at Altimont,
the feeling in the air, the rejection of nostalgia, the
new cynicism. It all stared the world directly in the face.
(31:04):
The sixties. Like pig Her, other vigor and misplaced effort
were ultimately unsuccessful. Everything would become abundantly clear and just
like the man said, you can't always get what you want.
Um Jake Brennan and This is the Tony seven Club
(31:36):
Club is hosted and produced by me Jake Brennan for
Double Elvis in partnership with I Heart Radio. Zeth Lundie
is the lead writer and co producer. This episode was
mixed by Joel Edinburgh. Additional music and score elements by
Ryan Spraaker and Henry Luneta. This episode was written by
ted Omo, story and copy ending by Pata Healey. Sources
(31:59):
for this episode and are available at Double Elvis dot
com on the twenty seven Club series page, talk to
me on Social act, Disgrace lad pod, and hang out
with me live on a Twitch channel Disgrace lad Talks.
For more news on your favorite podcast, follow at Double
Elvis on Instagram. Rocar ROLLA what's up for your is
Okay, Double Elvis. This episode contains content that may be
disturbing to some listeners. Please check the show notes for
more information. Club is the production of I Heart Radio
and Double Elvis. Ron Pigpen mcernan died at the age
(00:24):
of and he lived a life that was as uncertain
as a straight bullet. I can give you twenty seven
reasons why that statement is true. Four would be the
number of English rockers he scared off with his caliber
pistol while casually taking target practice during a photo shoot.
Another eight would be the number of tracks on The
(00:44):
Dead's third album he would have absolutely no input on.
His only appearance on the record came from live performances
that were added to the mix. Eight more would be
the number of the Dead's ranks would swell to, leaving
pig Pen even more lost in the shuffle of influence.
Another three would be the number of rock stars who
would be assaulted before The Dead were scheduled to take
(01:06):
the stage at a free concert in shaking the nerves
of the group who were now terrified as to what
awaited them. And four would be the number of years
pig Pen had left to live when the concert came
to its sinister and infamous conclusion. All totally on this
(01:26):
our sixth episode of season five, twenty two caliber photo shoots, assault,
shaken nerves, sinister conclusions, and Ron Pigpen mccernin. I'm Jake
Brennan in this is the twenty seven Club. M you
(02:25):
gotta squeeze us in. Herb The Grateful Dead's manager, Rock Scully,
was glued to a pay phone. He looked back at
the entirety of the band standing behind him. He rubbed
his eyes and pleaded into the receiver. Look, we have
shows to promote. Man, it's it's gonna look strange. It
was going to look strange because the Dead were no
longer a band of six. Tom Constant, the keyboard player
(02:48):
who filled in during round Pigpen mccurtin's absence, was staying
on as a full time member. Even though Pigpen was
back in the fold, the band needed new promotional shots
as soon as possible. To like the change, The old
photos weren't going to cut it. Photographer Herb Green had
shot every iteration of the band to that point. Her
was the guy to see in San Francisco when your
(03:11):
band needed some killer shots. That's why the four English
Chaps were currently standing in her studio. It was their
first tour of the States and her was their first
stop in the city by the Bay. Her told Rock
to come by. He'd tried to fit them in. Maybe
he would introduce the dead to this new group from
across the pond bridge the Continental Gap. Have a bit
(03:32):
of a party, make a day of it. Herb then
hung up the phone and returned to his subjects. Robert Plant,
Jimmy Page, John Bonham and John Paul Jones led Zeppelin.
The dress of England's newest hit makers was pristine. Robert
Plants golden locks bounced over a button down shirt and
delicate floral under shirt. Jimmy Page was classically cool and
(03:55):
a tan Pco bontomore black oather jacket over a snug
patterned sweater. And John Paul Jones dressed in a plane
but elegant crew neck and tight slacks. All clean shaven
save for a tidy mustache on Bonzo's upper lip. The
four not only looked a part, they played the part,
and they were months away from becoming one of the
(04:16):
biggest bands in the world and international sex symbolis to
boot that was an interdimensional parallel to the Grateful Dead
who just moments later we're falling into the door of
Herbs Studio. They were led by a frantic rock Scully.
Tagging closely behind was Jerry Garcia, wearing a poncho and
(04:37):
sporting a magnificently large bushy beer, Mickey hard in the
first Game Cab, an enormous mustache, Phil Lash with raging sideburns,
and a denim jacket. Bill Kurtzman wearing a plane jacket
and striped shirt, looking like he had just finished a
shift driving a cab, but perpetually days Bob were his
wild ponytail threatening to unleash itself on the room. Tom
(04:59):
Constantin with carefully parted hair, handlebar mustache and a cane,
and of course, pig Pan. In this crew of mismatched parts,
pig Pen was perhaps the most outlantish of them all.
He wore a dark jacket bearing an enormous pattern of
flowers and ornate vines on its back panel. Thick black
goatee is beaten in leather. Cowboy hat was marked with
(05:22):
sweat stains and looked like it had been run over
by several eighteen wheelers. He also carried something on his
waist a twenty two caliber pistol. As Rock made a
beeline for her, the Dead stood impatiently waiting to get
the session started. Zeppelin didn't even know what to make
the guy standing next to them bloody Americans. Honestly, it
(05:43):
was hard to focus on anything else in the room
besides this cowboy who was currently slinging his twenty two
around and pointing at the ceiling. Pig Pen leaned back
toward Jerry Garcia, and then he pointed to a couple
of objects at the far end of the studio and
stared down the barrel, squinted one eye, and then with
at least a few rounds of ammunition into the ceiling,
saying to Jerry, fuck missed it. Pig Pen laughed, as
(06:06):
the rest of the Dead led Zeppelin, We're not laughing.
These Yanks seemed downright in maniac. Was this what the
West was really like? Did cowboys roamed the streets and
shoot its ceilings? Did everyone have a gun? Herb Green's
newest clients couldn't get out the door fast enough, which
meant that the Dead were ready for their close up.
(06:27):
The band positioned themselves in front of the camera all
seven of them all seven that was still taking a
little of getting used to. They seem to be acquiring
new members at a steady rate, first Mickey, now Tom,
and if they kept expanding, they need a caravan to
transport them two shows. Pigpens grasp on the whole situation
was about as loose as he had been with his
(06:48):
twenty two. The photo session was smack dab in the
middle of the des recording sessions for what would become
their third studio album, Oxo Oxoa. Pig who had been
kicked back to Congos during livets, wasn't even involved in
the recording process yet. In fact, by the time The
Dead completed the studio sessions, Tom's takes on keyboard had
(07:09):
become the definitive ones. On the album's back cover, Pigpen
was listed last in the musician credits, and his credit
didn't even indicate he was a musician. It's simply read
Ron McKernan pig Pen. He wouldn't have even been on
the album at all if Jerry and Phil hadn't decided
to mix in live tracks with the studio tracks. This
(07:31):
strange evolution of The Grateful Dead's music walked hand in
hand with the group shifting dynamics. They were just experimenting
with sounds and psychedelics anymore. The music had become beyond
complex and difficult. The pressure is to continually transform, the
pressure to chase a sound, the pressure to push into
the outer reaches of an auditory solar system. We're all
(07:52):
beginning to take a toll on the Grateful Dead. They
half nitrous oxide when they sat over the mixing board,
a steady supply, have momentary lapses of concentration to get
through the album. The music they heard coming from the
monitors was intricate and impossibly elaborate, and it was starting
to draw a hard line in the way the Dead
performed live. The Grateful Dead had survived to split as
(08:16):
a band, but their live act had not. The beginning
of their shows were now a deep exploration of the
outer rim of the universe, jazzy acid soaked fits of
improv over a complex structures, and they would then downshift
into the folk influenced ballads and old weird Americana that
Jerry and Robert Hunter were obsessed with. At this point,
(08:37):
Pigpen would finally emerge from where he'd been tucked away
off to the side of the stage, leaving the congoes
behind to take center stage and deliver a hard driving
set of R and B. This was where a Pigpen shine.
He was in his element, dancing, hollering and enticing the
audience to find someone to take home with him. And
it worked. The audience would give the energy back to
(08:59):
pig Pen, feeding into his act, creating a call and
response of pure ecstasy that pig Pen would digest and return.
It was a perfect cyclical movement of experience and understanding
that this was a really good time and there was
no other place you needed to be but right here,
right now. Big Pen stage presence was magnifying, It was electrifying,
(09:20):
It was carnal. But that wasn't where the Dead were headed.
They all knew it. Jerry had insisted for a while
the Pigpen needed his time center stage. Hell, just look
at the back cover of ox and Oxoa. Ron McKernan
may not be listed as a musician, but he's pictured
at the very center of the Grateful Dead family, lounging
on the lawn, surrounded by other band members, good friends
(09:41):
of the band, and children, including a five year old
girl that for a time was alleged to be Courtney Love,
despite Love herself claiming it was her and the photo
it was later proven to be Bill's daughter, who was
the same age. Regardless, it would make sense that Courtney
Love would be there in the picture inheriting the don't
give a fu atitude that is steaming off pig Pen
(10:02):
in that classic photograph. Pig Pen was the best showman
of the lot. And when he was singing Midnight Hour,
Turn on your Lovelight, something happened in the audience, something
happened to the audience, something that nobody else in the
band could elictit. Just look at how everything revolves around
him in that portrait. He didn't need to have an
instrument beside his name. He was Pigpen at the center
(10:23):
of the Grateful Dead, and he held it all together.
And besides, pig Pen could close a show like a motherfucker.
The cracks were starting to show, even on songs Pigpen
like to perform. Extended jams on lovel would inevitably cause
Pigpen to become detached, disassociated, disinterested. He would sing his
verses and then vamp on something basic while the rest
(10:45):
of the Grateful Dead took off in their spaceship, and
that's when it was time to sip Thunderbird by the
time until the song came to a close, and only
then would pig Pen finally hop back in and give
it on a st effort. And that ship wasn't working
for Jerry. That ship wasn't working for the debt because
where they were going wasn't anywhere remotely close to where
they had been, and for Pigman that meant trouble ahead.
(11:36):
The sun spilled on the pig Pen's face. He looked
over at his girl, V, who was still asleep, and smiled.
He wasn't like the girls on the road or the
girls who came before. V was special. What they had
together was special. Where they were was special. It was
nine and they were at Mickey Hart's ranch in Nevada, California,
(12:00):
some thirty miles away from the madness of the Hay
and pig Pen Well, pig Pen was happy. Pig pulled
himself out of bed and fetched a bottle and went
for a smoke on the porch. The mid morning sun
filled the entire scene with a warm yellow glow. Large
ancient trees, dogs running, the sound of hands clucking in
(12:21):
the extended grateful Dead family's children playing nearby. It was serene,
and Pigpens strapped on his pistol, wasn't playing at being
a cowboy anymore. Hell he was a cowboy, and so
were the rest of the Dead. The band wasn't just
dabbling in country western music. They were riding horses, taking
target practice on the range, and raising chickens. Mickey leased
(12:44):
the firm just a few months before as an attempt
to escape the insanity that was San Francisco, and an
escape was what they all needed. Pig and v joined
Mickey first, and then one by one, the rest of
the band made their way out. The friends, family and
other music were rotated on and off the property. Of course,
there were also various dealers providing any chemical the group desired,
(13:06):
and even some Hell's Angels made the journey have to
check out Mickey's firm, and the angels may have dressed
the same as Pick, but they weren't necessarily as five.
Regardless of the constant guests and hangers on, the fourteen
acre piece of land became a respite, a chance for
the dead to slow down. They hadn't been watching their
speed at all, and the experimentation in all aspects of
(13:29):
the group's life was putting them on a fast track
to a burnout. The drugs, the music, the living arrangements,
it was all starting to catch up on Mickey's firm.
After long days of firing rifles and riding horses, the
Grateful Dead would play music once again. The sound was
taking a new direction. In This new direction was, in
(13:49):
no small part another reaction to what was going on
at the time. The complexities of psychedelia had worn out
their welcome, walking hand in hand with the downwards biral
of the end of the nineteen sixties. The decade began
with such hopefulness, and it was punctuated by tragedy. Martin
Luther King shot dead, Bobby Kennedy gunned down just months later,
(14:13):
everyone feeling like they're fixing a die Hannoi Watts, Chicago, Detroit,
and the malaise of the sixties left the country feeling hungover,
just like the Dead felt with their music. That's what
the new direction was all about. Bob Dylan, the Band,
the Birds, Buffalo, Springfield, they were all doing it, reaching
back that old weird America, the roots, the folk ways,
(14:35):
the stuff the Dead had vibed on in their earliest days. Jerry,
Bob and Phil began to write new tunes with Robert
Hunter's lyrics. Robert was quickly becoming the eighth member of
the group. They did the old style their peers were
championing in a new way, though, putting the grateful Dead
stamp on it. Something close to what country rock singer
(14:58):
Graham Parsons would describe best cosmic American music. Another cosmic Cowboys,
Steven Stills, had become a frequent visitor to Mickey's farm.
The Dead thought Crosby Stills in nash had some far
out vibrations. Influenced by their friends group, Jerry, Bob and
Phil began to experiment with vocal harmonies, a style that
would become a new hallmark of the Dead sound. But
(15:20):
once again, this new way left little room for Pigpen.
Pig was still invisible for a majority of the Dead shows.
Night after night, he'd hang back, beating his congas and
pounding beers during the jazz up songs of Osa Maksoa.
And when he did finally step to the keys and
mike to take lead vocals on his signature tunes, he'd
turned his organ down during the extended jams. Night after night,
(15:44):
Pigpen refused to take the musical trip with the rest
of the Grateful Dead, just to see had refused those
other mind altering trips. The night after night, Jerry Garcia
shot Pigpen looks on stage, the ones that simultaneously tried
to keep him honest also urge him on. The rest
of the members of the Dead knew something was amiss,
(16:05):
but Pigpen was hard to read, always positive, always open.
It's not like his drinking habits or some great insight
into his inner emotional state. Drinking was what it had
always been and every day, all day occupation. Pigpen didn't
complain about his place in the band, on stage or
on an album. He simply showed up and did what
(16:26):
was asked of him, no matter how minimal the contribution.
The band had nothing but love for their brother. They
stuffed pig Pen songs at every set and found new
songs that could become future Pigpen standards like Otis Reddings
hard to handle in the Rascals Good Loving. The band
didn't necessarily want to move in an R and B direction.
(16:46):
It was all done and more of an effort to
keep Pigpen motivated and engaged. When Pigpen was engaged, he
was a force of nature. So was his half bike
or half cowboy image. Pigpen's face graced the first piece
of merchandise to Dead ever made a T shirt with
text Pigpen under his silhouetted likeness. The Pigpen lookalike contest
(17:08):
was currently being used to promote their new album, an
album Pigpen hadn't even worked on. Pigpen didn't want the fame,
he didn't want the notoriety. He didn't even really care
about success. He just wanted to play the blues with
his friends. And those thoughts ran through Pigpen's head as
he listened to Jerry ram Belong to Rolling Stone writer
Michael Lydon about acid Rock, the Pranksters, and Ken Kiss.
(17:30):
Rolling Stone labeled Jerry the source of the Dead's magic,
fill his other half, and said that pig was not
primarily a musician, as if he was being given a
chance to be. But still, despite that backhanded compliment or
whatever it was, there was Pig's face, the non musician,
the odd man out on the fucking cover of Rolling
(17:51):
Stone magazine with his brothers, the grateful Dead weren't reaching
a peak, and they weren't being eclipsed by other groups,
and they weren't fading into obscurity. The Grateful Dead had
staying power, hence the rolling Stone cover, and their popularity
was only growing. That popularity landed them a spot in
(18:11):
the Woodstock lineup in the summer of nineteen sixty nine.
It was a clear indicator that the movement they had
helped spark on the West Coast was a national, if
not global, phenomenon. But just because the Dead were on
the fast track to enduring fame didn't mean that cracks
weren't starting to appear, not just in the band's organization,
the whole damn movement. Woodstock may have projected the ideals
(18:35):
of peace, love and understanding, but they were momentary, if
they were real at all, And as the decade drew
to a close, something dark waited in the wings for
that wide eyed hopefulness. Another concert was waiting, one that
would expose the supposed bliss of Woodstock as nothing more
than a fantasy, a dream. I would say, total bunk.
(18:56):
There was no peace, no love. There was just the sea,
the underbelly, the thing that had always been there, and
the thing that always would. The devil would have his due.
We'll be right back after this word we were. Pig
(19:20):
Pen sat in the back of the park bus, white
knuckling a bottle of Southern Comfort. He slowly brought the
bottle to his mouth with a shaky hand. Things hadn't
gone his planning. Quite the opposite, really. The Free Concert
was supposed to be a companion piece to Woodstock, but
things went wrong from the jump. The concert was originally
slated for the picturesque Golden Gate Park, with the San
(19:43):
Francisco City Council had enough of the whole hippie experience
and the venue changed last minute to this dusty spit
of land. Mickey Heart's Farm had been considered as an
option at one point. Pig Pen would have preferred Nicky's firm.
But here they were at Altamont Speedway. Pig took another
poll of soco. It wasn't taking the edge off as
(20:04):
he had hoped. He should have known that the edge
would be there for a damn long time. The minut
he saw the Hell's angels, and the librations were negative
from the second. The grateful that arrived forced to wait
around for hours while a helicopter ferry musicians over to
the venue. Just like Woodstock, the concert site was woefully
underprepared for the amount of people who would arrive, and
(20:25):
the place became nearly inaccessible by car. The place was
also slowly becoming a war zone. Jefferson airplane set went
sideways when guitarists already bowing, got himself knocked out by
a Hell's angel. Stephen Stills was stabbed in the leg
by another house angel who was off his rock around
amphetamins and beer. Mick Jagger had been punched in the
face by a fan when the Rolling Stones arrived via helicopter,
(20:48):
and now the Grateful Dead were being told to stay
in their truck until they took the stage. I'm not
fucking going out there, man Jerry, repeated his new mantra
at the front of the truck they had been told
to waiting. His wife, Mountain Girl, tried to settle him
down and hope some grass would do the trick. It didn't.
Pigpen peered out of the truck window at the chaos
(21:09):
it was taking place. He watched as a few angels
roughed up and making man just a few dozen yards away.
Pig Pen shook his head and rock Scully had been
obsessed with the idea of Dead sharing a stage with Stones.
The concept of the free show to give back to
the fans was tried and true in the Dead's world,
but watching the chaos and fold, Pigpen had to ask
(21:30):
himself was it all worth it? Which one of the
Dead would be the next victim of the concert's madness.
That was the question on everyone's mind was on Pigpen's
mind too, but he also wondered how the funck he
even got there in the first place. Just a few
months ago, things have been looking up. The Grateful Dead
had wrapped up their contract with Warner Brothers. Their three
(21:52):
album deal had come to an end, and so of
the Dead's run with Psychedelia. That was a net positive
for pig who didn't fit in with the music any out.
The tunes they have been crafting up at Mickey's firm
were a start, but they needed to take them on
the road and test them out. That's just what they did.
Robert hunter Pen lyrics like Uncle John's Band, Dire Wolf
and Cumberland Blues, and the group had brought the songs
(22:15):
to life and sets throughout the year. The new songs
described lost souls in old American towns, cold winters, way
up nors, and Appalachian traditions. They also contained open commentary
on the summer of love and it's fallout and what
maybe it had all really meant. It wasn't just a
new direction, it was a hard reset. Another unrecorded song
(22:37):
debut in nine nine was easy Wind, a song influenced
chiefly by the music and legend of Delta blues man
Robert Johnson. A song about a hard drinking highwayman who
just keeps showing up to work day after day, chipping
away at the road, knowing it'll someday bring someone in
the right direction. A song about desperation and about knowing
(22:58):
that the end is near, of pushing forward. Nonetheless, words
that Robert Hunter had written with pig Pen in mind,
and though Robert may have only associated the song with
pig Pen because of its style and performance, the lyrics
were starting to fit in a most appropriate way. Pig
Pen had been hammering away at the blues his whole
(23:19):
life and his whole career with a grateful dead He
kept his head down, did what was asked of him,
and always kept the bottle handy during downtime. That fact
wasn't lost on the rest of the band. That's why
it made sense to kick around the idea of pig
Pen cutting a solo album. Pig hit the studio as
Jerry Bob. In some session positions. They recorded some old
(23:40):
country songs, but the full project never came to fruition.
The Dead's first ever recording contract with Warner Brothers and
pig Pen solo album recording session served as a glorified
scouting session to check out other companies facilities. The pig
Pen solo album faded into obscurity and legend as of
what could ben moment in rock and roll, and while
(24:02):
pig Pen settled into his new role at the bottom
of The Dead's hierarchy, he began to spend more time
on his own. It was already like point teeth to
get Pigpen out of his hotel room on a typical day,
but now he wouldn't even enjoy off days with the band.
He often chose to stay in his room, drink and
maybe play a little acoustic guitar. The rest of the group,
(24:22):
the managers and the roadies, had to try desperately to
convince pig Pen to emerge from his cave, and that's
exactly where he was now, seated in the back of
the bus by himself. As the alarming anarchy of Altamont
was unfolding around their little bubble, it was time to
make a decision on whether they would play or not.
(24:42):
It was an easy one. Every single member of the
Dead was fucking out. They booked it for the chopper.
Bad crammed into the cabin and took off. While the
Dead were airborne, the Rolling Stones took the stage, and
the night descended further and further into chaos. The Hell's
Angels that beca infuriated with a long day of smashing,
saucerrided concert goers, and the saucerided concert goers were sick
(25:06):
of the Hell's Angels. One fan rushed the stage with
a pistol in the middle of the Rolling Stone set
the Hell's Angels stabbing to death on the spot. Another
man drowned in nearby irrigation ditch. Two more were run
over at their campsite. Someone tried to jump off a
fort overpass after taking too much of whatever he was
taking and shattered his pelvis, And there were fights everywhere.
(25:28):
Traffic to. The venue was backed up for twenty miles.
There were a hundred bathrooms for three hundred thousand people,
and there was speed, cocaine, LSD and rivers of alcohol
everywhere you looked. The Grateful Dead had evacuated just in
time to miss the worst of it, But they were
scheduled to play another show that evening, and they backed
(25:48):
out of that one too. The scene at Alton had
shaken them, and it would soon shape The world had
become the end of something hopeful in the beginning of
something sinis Here. Rosemary LaBianca sat on a sofa in
(26:27):
the living room of her Los Angeles home. She couldn't
stop reading the newspaper article that was laid out on
the coffee table in front of her. It hurt to
read it and reread it, but she couldn't look away.
Things have been escalating the last few years in her city,
but this a five person massacre at the home of
the Hollywood elite. What the hell? Was nobody safe anymore?
(26:50):
For the rest of the day, she couldn't shake the
anxiety the article had made her feel. But she slept
hard that night, so hard that she didn't wake up
to the sound of an alarm m or the sound
of birds chirping outside her bedroom window. Instead, she was
awoken when she was violently dragged out of bed at
gunpoint by a man with shaggy hair and a bushy beard,
(27:11):
who then tossed her onto her living room floor. Her husband,
we know, who had fallen asleep on the sofa, had
his hands tied and was also being held at gunpoint
by another man with a bushy beard and long hair,
only this one was slightly shorter. What are you doing,
Rosemary pleaded, Take whatever you want, please, just just don't
hurt us. The two men looked at each other and grinned.
(27:33):
They covered the couple's heads with pillowcases and tied them
off of the power chords from some nearby lamps. They
then bound Rosemary's hands like her husband's. She heard the
men whisper to each other. Footsteps, the back door opened
and closed silence. Rosemary could tell there was one man
left in the room, and he began to pace, and
(27:53):
she began to hyper ventily, what do you want from us?
But before anyone could answer, the door opened again, and
Rosemary heard a half dozen footsteps, then a barked order
to throw Rosemary back into the bedroom. As she was
dragged down the hall, she heard the sound of a
blade unsheathed, and then the sound of metal through flesh.
She imagined the worst, the thought of her husband lying
(28:16):
in a pool of his own blood. Her escorts tossed
her onto the floor of her bedroom. She wouldn't let
Leno die, not without a fight. Rosemary stood up, pushed
her a sound with as much violent force as she
could muster, and then began to swing the lantern around
her neck. They were stunned and backed away. Then another
terrible silence and more terrible footsteps, a sudden piercing pain,
(28:38):
then darkness. When the police arrived the next day, they
found the bodies of Rosemary and Lena la Bianca mutilated
in their house. The words of rise and desk to
pigs have been painted on the wall, and blood helter
Skelter was smeared in the same red stain across the fridge.
(28:59):
Months later, Charles Manson and members of his so called
family were arrested. They were charged not only with the
murder of the La Bancas, but with the infamous massacre
at the home of Roman Polanski and Sharon Tape. The
one Rosemary had read about in the paper. Much like
the Grateful Dead, and like many social groups during that time,
(29:20):
Charles Manson had organized communital Living to pursue a new
means of life outside of society, free, liberated. But unlike
Grateful Dead, Charles Manson's motives were not pure. He had
studied theology, psychology, and culture and took advantage of the
idealism about the sixties to manipulate wide eyed youth into
(29:41):
joining his fucked up family. He indoctrinated them, fed them lies,
and brainwashed them. Manson twisted the counterculture values of the
time to suit his own needs. It was an extreme
manifestation of the hates flood of young kids looking to
be absorbed into the scene of the mess at Altamont,
of the continued commodification and marketing of the hippies and
(30:01):
rock and roll. It was horrifying and something had to give,
and as the nineteen sixties gave way to the nineteen seventies,
the country was in need of a hard reset, and
so were the Grateful Dead. The Dead needed to get
off the merry go round, strip away all the unnecessary
elements of their sound and style. Pig Pen was on
(30:23):
board for all that he was hopeful that they returned
from their intergalactic elisd trip and come back to Earth,
allowing him to catch up, or they caught their breath.
The grateful Dead weren't slowing down, they were simply changing
their perspective. Pig Pen, unfortunately, would never catch up. Altimont
(30:44):
ended in chaos, and the calendar flipped from December nineteen
sixty nine to January seventy and it was all there
on the final track of the record released in December
by the band, the headline that faithful day at Altimont,
the feeling in the air, the rejection of nostalgia, the
new cynicism. It all stared the world directly in the face.
(31:04):
The sixties. Like pig Her, other vigor and misplaced effort
were ultimately unsuccessful. Everything would become abundantly clear and just
like the man said, you can't always get what you want.
Um Jake Brennan and This is the Tony seven Club
(31:36):
Club is hosted and produced by me Jake Brennan for
Double Elvis in partnership with I Heart Radio. Zeth Lundie
is the lead writer and co producer. This episode was
mixed by Joel Edinburgh. Additional music and score elements by
Ryan Spraaker and Henry Luneta. This episode was written by
ted Omo, story and copy ending by Pata Healey. Sources
(31:59):
for this episode and are available at Double Elvis dot
com on the twenty seven Club series page, talk to
me on Social act, Disgrace lad pod, and hang out
with me live on a Twitch channel Disgrace lad Talks.
For more news on your favorite podcast, follow at Double
Elvis on Instagram. Rocar ROLLA what's up for your is
Host
Jake Brennan
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