logo
Sam Calagione hopes Grateful Dead Juicy Pale Ale will be a hit

Sam Calagione hopes Grateful Dead Juicy Pale Ale will be a hit

Boston Globe06-05-2025
Calagione was at Fenway for Grateful Dead night, accompanied by his latest beer release, Grateful Dead Juicy Pale Ale. Back in the box a few minutes after his first pitch, Calagione exhaled.
'I was in the non-embarrassing zone,' he told a reporter, before hugging and high-fiving his family and friends. 'Just the right amount of liquid courage.'
Get Winter Soup Club
A six-week series featuring soup recipes and cozy vibes, plus side dishes and toppings, to get us all through the winter.
Enter Email
Sign Up
Sam Calagione throws out the first pitch at Fenway for Grateful Dead night.
Advertisement
A Greenfield native, Calagione remembers coming to games with his grandfather, who lived in Medford. Calagione went to boarding school with Ted Williams's son, and recalls a banquet where The Greatest Hitter Who Ever Lived sat down at his table. Throwing out the first pitch felt like a culmination of those memories, as well as some career accomplishments.
Though it hasn't been around long, Grateful Dead Juicy Pale Ale is now Dogfish Head's No. 2-selling beer, behind the iconic 60-Minute IPA. The 5.3 percent ABV beer is made with Azacca and El Dorado hops, the sustainable grain kernza, and a little bit of oat and honey-infused granola.
'We said, let's make a beer that has some hop character to it, but that'll appeal to the broadest demo of legal age, deadheads, not just hop heads,' says Calagione. 'So in other words, not just craft beer focus, but a really broad demographic.'
Advertisement
Calagione is in the Dead demo himself, having recently caught a show at The Sphere in Las Vegas. For his first pitch, he wore a tie-dyed Dead shirt with Bill Walton's name and number on the back as a tribute to the former Celtics great and Dead superfan. Calagione has early memories of the band as well.
'In Greenfield, right on Main Street, was an independent record store. I remember walking by as, like, a 14- or 15-year-old and seeing the cover to 'Shakedown Street,' which is probably not their most renowned album. It's probably their most dancy, almost disco-esque album. I fell in love with it.'
Calagione hopes fans will love the beer, too.
Gary Dzen can be reached at
Orange background

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Comments

No comments yet...

Related Articles

NYC designer Martha Nolan-O'Slatarra's tragic death on Montauk boat eyed as suspected accidental drug overdose: sources
NYC designer Martha Nolan-O'Slatarra's tragic death on Montauk boat eyed as suspected accidental drug overdose: sources

New York Post

timea day ago

  • New York Post

NYC designer Martha Nolan-O'Slatarra's tragic death on Montauk boat eyed as suspected accidental drug overdose: sources

The death of Manhattan swimwear designer Martha Nolan-O'Slatarra at the upscale Montauk Yacht Club is being eyed as a possible accidental overdose, sources said Tuesday. The 33-year-old Irish beauty was found unconscious at the ritzy club on Aug. 5 aboard a boat named 'Ripple' – one of at least two Grateful Dead-themed crafts owned by insurance mogul Christopher Durnan, sources tell The Post. An autopsy is pending to determine Nolan-O'Slatarra's official cause of death – although sources said it was a suspected drug overdose. Advertisement Authorities now believe NYC designer Martha Nolan-O'Slatarra's death may be tied to an accidental drug overdose. Luiz C. Ribeiro for New York Post Suffolk County cops have not filed charges or identified any suspects in the case. Nolan-O'Slatarra was found on the boat around midnight after club members heard screams, called 911 and then tried to resuscitate the designer – who was later pronounced dead. Advertisement Durnan, 60, a familiar figure at the club, owns the Durnan Group in Rockville Center, which manages the 'largest, most successful Workers Compensation Safety Group for Real Estate' on the company's website. Martha Nolan-O'Slatarra was found unresponsive on a Montauk boat, where she was soon after pronounced dead. Instagram/@marthanolan He owns 'Ripple' and a second boat, 'Hell in a Bucket,' which was docked alongside and is also a shout-out to the Grateful Dead, several club members confirmed. Nolan-O'Slatarra, a native of the tiny Irish town of Carlow, migrated to the US, where she started as a bottle service girl in SoHo before co-founding East x East, a swimwear label. Advertisement She summered in the Hamptons, where she hosted successful pop-up shows and fashion exhibits for wealthy clientele in Montauk and the surrounding area. — Additional reporting by Brandon Cruz and Joe Marino

Career waiter Ken Temple on Alan Alda's big hands, Caroline Knapp's courage, and Brigham's glory days
Career waiter Ken Temple on Alan Alda's big hands, Caroline Knapp's courage, and Brigham's glory days

Boston Globe

timea day ago

  • Boston Globe

Career waiter Ken Temple on Alan Alda's big hands, Caroline Knapp's courage, and Brigham's glory days

Well, I wait tables. I got my first job in 1973; I worked at a Brigham's on Clarendon Street downtown. We sold sandwiches, sold everything. It was so much fun. I was so young, and those girls there — wow. I went to an all-boys' high school. It was fun. They had countertops, and you sat at the counter. People came and had breakfast and lunch, and we stayed open until dinnertime. They actually gave me great training. Get Winter Soup Club A six-week series featuring soup recipes and cozy vibes, plus side dishes and toppings, to get us all through the winter. Enter Email Sign Up It just evolved over time. I worked at places like that for a while. Then I was a bartender at T.T. the Bear's in Central Square. It used to be a restaurant before it went to rock and roll. Advertisement I have this thing called 'The Ken Show,' and it's evolved over time. I get really jacked when I wait tables. I get animated and high, because I'm really there to provide people with experiences. No one goes out to dinner to be miserable, right? Some people come in miserable, and my goal is that they leave happy. Restaurants can be great energy, or they can be dead. Advertisement What's the Ken Temple Show? I bring high energy to the table. I'm there to have fun. I tell jokes, the same jokes to everybody. People say to me, 'You just said the same thing to that table.' I said, 'When Robin Williams went from Toledo to Cleveland, he didn't change his material.' I'll walk up to a table and say, 'Good evening. Welcome to Umbria' — I have this low voice — 'My name is Ken. I'll be here catering to your every need. You have menus; you have a beverage list.' And I shake my head. Each inflection, each little thing, and then I'll go on about the specials, and I'll tell jokes, and it flows. I entertain people. I'm there to provide people with experiences. I'm not happy unless they're leaving and they turn to their partner and say, 'That was Ken-tastic.' What made you want to stay with this career? I've had many careers. I have 17 years of college — That's amazing. My first six years of college, I majored in pot and beer. Restaurants are breeding grounds for alcoholism and divorce, and I was lucky to get both of them. I've been sober for 36 years. Congratulations. It was a different time then. There were no credit cards. Everyone paid in cash. You walk out the door with a stack of cash, you know, and then you go to after-hours' bars. It was a party every night. For a 20-year-old, that's fantastic, but it's a trap. I made more money working 24 hours a week at Giacomo's on Hanover Street than [my ex-wife] made with a master's from Harvard. Advertisement I was making great money. It's actually much of my social life, too. You work the crowd. You know, I love restaurants. I go out to eat twice a week on my days off. Where do you like to eat? We go to Davio's, and I like Sorellina. We're always looking for new restaurants. We go to Legal Sea Foods. I worked at Legal. You've worked at a lot of places. I worked at Friendly's. I worked at a couple crappy, smaller restaurants that I forget. My brother taught me to tend bar at T.T. I worked at the Sheraton Commander Hotel. I moved to San Diego to develop a career in radio, which didn't take because I have a Boston accent. So I came back, and I worked at Jewish deli in Brookline at Putterham Circle. I met Jackie Taglieri there, who owned Giacomo's. He used to go there for breakfast every Sunday morning, and he offered me a job. I worked at Giacomo for years. I have ADHD that's severe, which works great in the restaurant industry. I don't stop and think about anything. It just flows: Just don't interrupt the flow. It's when you interrupt the flow that the problems happen. Then I went to work at the Summer Shack in Cambridge for I worked there for several years, but I wanted to be home at night with [my partner] Veronica, so I quit that job and worked at Encore. I worked at lunch at Garden Café, and I was the highest-rated waiter at the Encore with a 91.1 average, per the managers. Advertisement But then you became a nurse? I was working at the Encore, and then COVID came, and I was also working as a registered nurse. I became a nurse at 50 years old. I worked in heroin detox for the homeless, which was the perfect place for me, Bridge to Recovery. It was on Long Island in the middle of Boston Harbor. At that point, I'd been sober 18 years. Then, I worked as a psychiatric home care nurse for years, when I got a call from the CDC. They were desperate. They couldn't find anyone willing to go to the airport to screen people for COVID-19. Would I do it? I was happy to. So I was a quarantine medical officer at Logan Airport for the CDC. You've done it all. And I used to be a teacher at Medford High School. They couldn't hire me permanently, because I know nothing about education, but I took the history teachers' test. The sad part was when the kids from the high school started coming into the detox because they were at a party. They knew me, but they knew I'd take care of them. Then, I started working at Umbria two years ago. What was Boston like as a food city back in the day? There was nothing there. There weren't any huge restaurants. It was a working-class city. It wasn't this expensive place to go. Cambridge was a factory town, and I worked at a factory making velvet. They had these huge spiels of velvet the size of a Volkswagen. My job was to put my hands on it, find the seam, cut the seam out, and put a new seam so it could go through the machine. After one day, I couldn't feel anything in my hands. I said, I'm not doing that. You know, people did that for 20 years and supported their family on it for $2.65 an hour. Advertisement It's really changed significantly. The amount of money in Boston now is huge, and everything's expensive. But then it was a working-class city. Legal Sea Foods was just a small, little fish market. I wouldn't go to places like Locke-Ober because that was out of my realm, and I couldn't appreciate it, anyway. My father would go to Valle's or to the Hilltop Steak House. What was your favorite place to work? Giacomo's was great because I made lots of money, and it was fun. Cibo was great because my friend Beth owned it with Jackie Taglieri. I went to high school in the North End, too. I went to Christopher Columbus, a Catholic boys' high school. Everyone I went to high school with is dead or in prison. Cibo was great, because I'd work the crowd. It's where Panza is now, on Hanover Street. I just did a piece about how to be a . What type of customers are your favorite, and what type of customers annoy you? One that leaves the appropriate gratuity. You know, I bring a lot of energy and a lot of entertainment, a lot of fun. I don't want you to leave me a 12 percent gratuity. I'm here to provide you with an experience. If you try to get out with $9, the cheapest check possible, you don't get an experience. You just eat food. Go to McDonald's if you just want to eat food. Nothing wrong with that. Advertisement I can give you a story. Veronica asked me to go pump up her bike tire. I put on the automatic pump and pumped it up, and it blew the tire because I was daydreaming. So I put it on the back of my car, drove over Belmont Wheelworks. The guy says, 'What do you do for a living?' I said, 'I'm a waiter. I work at the Encore, blah-blah.' He said, 'You waited on me and my wife 20 years ago at a small Italian restaurant. You're the best waiter we've ever had. We still talk about it.' That's validating for people. What makes a truly great waiter? It's attention to detail. I won't ask you how your food is. I would say, 'That steak is fantastic!' It's just in the detail, the pause. I'll give you a pause situation: 'I have a beautiful Umbria dessert menu. I have a beautiful Umbria signature skillet cookie that's phenomenal — served as a scoop of vanilla … gelato." It's the pause. You know? People get to think for a second: What's he going to say? The pause is the setup. I love it. And I've given people therapy at the table. What kind of problems do people come to you with? A guy was complaining to me about his wife two weeks ago: 'All she does is give me rhetorical questions.' I looked at him and said, 'If she died tomorrow, would you give everything you own to have her ask you one more rhetorical question?' It's like I punched him in the face. His whole face changed. If you had to describe the Boston food scene in a sentence, in a headline, what would you say? Really, there are so many choices, so many different takes on everything. The food scene is awesome. It really is. I have trouble making decisions on where we go out to eat. What do you wish there were more of? Better Chinese. I don't like the Chinese food we have. I drive around and try different places. They're OK. The best Chinese restaurant I've ever been to in Boston was this takeout place on Hanover Street. They only served takeout. When they were out of barbecue spare ribs, they were out; you should have come earlier. It's closed. They put some bubble shop in there or something. Alan Alda in 2013. Richard Drew Who's the most notable person you ever served? I waited on Alan Alda. Very down to earth and great. Alan Alda's hands are so big because he's 6-foot-5. I'm looking at his hands, and he looks like a basketball player. Especially in the food business, where alcoholism and drug use is rampant, what advice would you give to someone who wants to live differently but can't find their way out? It's a better life. I anesthetized my brain from the pain of adolescence. Being young is not easy, you know, and so I started anesthetizing my brain with sugar early on. People don't know that, but I'm addicted to sugar, and then I went right into beer. I had a tab in a bar when I was 17 years old. I didn't know anybody who didn't drink beer and smoke pot. But I wanted more out of life than drugs and alcohol. I went to AA in Cambridge. Best thing ever happened to me. I didn't want to anesthetize my brain anymore, and I wanted to be something. As a server, this is interesting. Can you spot who's an alcoholic just by serving them? Oh yeah. 100 percent. It's not my job to pass judgment. If they asked me, I would be happy to help them. But I don't have to. They have their own path. You know, I tell everybody, 'I'm an alcoholic.' People ask me, 'What's this [drink] like?' I say, 'Well, I'm an alcoholic, so I don't know. Most people like me with my clothes on in public, so I don't drink anymore.' Did you ever read the Caroline Knapp book 'Drinking: A Love Story?' She's from Cambridge. I knew Caroline Knapp. We went to Cambridge AA together. She died of cancer. I remember when she was diagnosed, and she was very courageous. She was a wonderful woman. I loved her. I have a picture of her on my computer, in my files of dead people. Great book. I knew all those people she talked about. What restaurant do you miss from the past? I miss Brigham's. Besides Umbria, which restaurant has the best service? I love Deuxave. Deuxave's a really nice restaurant. But, you know, I critique the waiters everywhere. 'He didn't button his top button, you know, and this is supposed to be a classy restaurant, so you should have a uniform.' Giulia has good service. That's a good restaurant. It's hard to get into. I like elegant food. I like Fore Street in Portland. Have you been there? The food is awesome; we used to drive up there just for something to do and get in line, because you can't get a reservation. What would you eat for your last meal? Wow. Because I don't eat sugar now, I'd like a hot fudge sundae from Brigham's. Interview was edited and condensed. Kara Baskin can be reached at

Jerry Garcia: Your memories 30 years after his death
Jerry Garcia: Your memories 30 years after his death

Yahoo

time5 days ago

  • Yahoo

Jerry Garcia: Your memories 30 years after his death

Yahoo asked readers to share where they were when they heard the legendary Grateful Dead guitarist had died on Aug. 9, 1995, and how his music makes them feel today. It was 30 years ago tomorrow that Grateful Dead co-founder, guitarist and vocalist Jerry Garcia died in his room at a drug and alcohol rehabilitation facility outside of San Francisco, on Aug. 9, 1995. He was 53. Fans of the pioneering psychedelic rock band known as Deadheads knew this day would come. Garcia had struggled with drug addiction and diabetes for years and was in bad shape weeks earlier during what would be his final tour. He was visibly frail, forgetting lyrics — more so than usual — and mumbling through his songs. Still, the news of his death was no less shocking. "I'm probably like a lot of people entering the first waves of numbness,' Tom Constanten, former Grateful Dead keyboardist and a close friend of Garcia's, told San Francisco's KCBS radio that night. I was also probably like a lot of people, looking to numb myself when I learned of Garcia's death. I had just graduated from high school and was at home in Connecticut, weeks away from going to college, driving around aimlessly in my used Volkswagen Jetta and listening to Dead tapes. (I had a couple hundred bootlegs of live shows, which, for serious Deadheads, was not many.) It was also a pivotal moment in Yahoo's history. One of the site's originally programmers, Srinija Srinivasan, told the New York Times that on the day Garcia died, searches for his name spiked immediately, so they put a link to it on the homepage. 'That was the birth of Yahoo News," Srinivasan said. Since Garcia's death, surviving members of the Grateful Dead, including guitarist Bob Weir and drummers Mickey Hart and Bill Kreutzman, have been performing in various incarnations, including Dead & Company — with John Mayer assuming Garcia's role as lead guitarist. 'I'll never come close to playing like @jerrygarcia,' Mayer wrote on Instagram earlier this month following Dead & Company's three-day run at San Francisco's Golden Gate Park celebrating the Grateful Dead's 60th anniversary. 'But if I can somehow get you closer to him — and to the spirit he created 60 years ago — then I suppose I've done my job. Thank you for accepting me.' To mark the 30th anniversary of Garcia's death, Yahoo gathered memories of the iconic guitarist from readers like you. Here are some of your most vivid and moving responses. They have been edited for length and clarity. Where were you when you heard the news Jerry died? Mitch W., 57, Wake Forest, N.C.: I was sitting in a rocking chair in my living room down in Boca Raton, Fla. I was just numb, devastated, sad and upset. The music that never stopped had stopped. Even though we knew Jerry was in rehab, we (at least me) figured he would be out soon. Mark K., 54, Fort Myers, Fla.: I was a young reporter working on Sanibel Island. At first, I thought it was just another rumor, so I called a friend/editor (who worked at the Grateful Dead fanzine Dupree's Diamond News) to confirm. I broke down and cried at my desk. I then collected myself, asked my boss for the rest of the day off, went home and watched all the coverage on TV with my roommate, who was also a Deadhead. Tony, 52, Lyman, N.H.: I was driving toward the beach to go surfing. I heard three consecutive Grateful Dead songs on the radio — and I just knew. I had to pull over my car. Complete emotional devastation. Beverly, 51, Lewisville, Maine: I was at an ARCO ampm restocking candy when a customer came in and broke the news. He was not gentle about it, causing me to be utterly devastated. Jenny W., 56, Chicago: I was working at Kraft Foods as an intern in the tax department. I received a phone call from a friend who let me know. I was devastated. I ended up telling my supervisor that I had a death in the family and needed to go home. I gathered with my friends, and we sat around sharing memories and listening to music. I had just met Jerry in St. Louis earlier that summer. We met in the concierge lounge at the Ritz, where he was grabbing some cookies. He took a picture with me and the cookies. He was amazingly kind. Ann, 51, Ann Arbor, Mich.: It was my 22nd birthday. I walked in to work the lunch shift at a local bar. Jerry's death was announced on the TV news. I was speechless, then melancholy. I was at the last show at Soldier Field, second row center. We were so close that I didn't know Jerry was wearing shorts. It was unbelievable that he was gone. J. Morgan W., 53, Fort Lauderdale, Fla.: I was at home in Fort Lauderdale when WSHE Radio announced Jerry's passing; I thought it was a bad joke. Then after multiple announcements from various news and radio reports, realizing that this news was true, I went out to Peaches Music and purchased the last few Dead CDs to finish my collection. Dori R., 59, Boulder, Colo.: I was driving down the 101 from a TV shoot with my Discovery Channel crew in California when we heard the news on the radio. We pulled over in shock. I was never a huge Dead fan, but I had actually just spent the previous summer following them, attending 14 West Coast shows out of pure curiosity with the music and the whole scene. I became a big fan that summer and was profoundly grateful that I got to experience the band, Jerry and all, before we lost him. D.P.F., 78, Yucaipa, Calif: I had just been upgraded to a speaking role on "Caroline in the City." You must understand what an exciting and joyous moment this was for a simple background actor. I was, needless to say, ecstatic. The following morning, I drove to Hollywood to sign the contract. The joy just mounted. I got back in the car to drive home; happy as a lark. When the radio came on, the first thing I heard was that Jerry had died. So, in a matter of minutes, I went from the peaks of happiness to the depths of sorrow. Of course, having followed the Dead for quite some time, I was well aware of Jerry's, shall we say, "predilections" and any serious fan was prepared for this. And yet, I and many others were rocked to our cores. "Cheff" Z., 78, Lancaster, Pa.: I was monitoring the Associated Press wire. The bell started clanging — which was the sign of 'breaking news.' I pulled the tear sheet and read of his death as AP was breaking it. I stood in front of the machine, alone in the clattering wire-service closet, and started to cry. I had seen the Dead all three nights in Philly on that final tour. He was weary looking, without the energy with which I was familiar. The Jerry I knew was funny and engaging. On that last tour he looked like he wanted to be done. How did you discover the Grateful Dead? Tony, 52, Lyman, N.H.: They were popular with everyone's older brothers in school. Someone gave me a bootleg from 1985. Maybe Roanoke, maybe Raleigh? The 'Stagger Lee' from that show hooked me. Ann, 51, Ann Arbor, Mich.: I saw 'Touch of Grey' on MTV and got the In the Dark album as a teen. Then a good friend from college knew that I liked Phish. She played old Grateful Dead bootleg tapes for me since she thought they were better. I agreed and never went to another Phish show. Anna M., 56, Oregon City, Ore.: I grew up in a rural area and had no exposure to the Grateful Dead except for shirts I had seen. I did not really know their music. My partner bought me a ticket for my birthday in 1992 to see them at Autzen Stadium in Eugene, Ore. I remember I had on jeans and a black mock turtleneck. As I got closer to the venue, I quickly realized my outfit did not blend. The concert was already going when I arrived. The scene was unlike anything I had ever seen — so many beautiful, weird people. I bought a new batik dress, ordered my first falafel and sat down and just absorbed it all. I felt like I had finally come home. Beverly, 51, Lewisville, Maine: My mom's friend always told me I was a hippie and didn't know it. She told me to check out their music in 1993; when I did, I knew immediately I had found my tribe. I only saw them once, in Las Vegas, before he died. It was amazing. The people really were like a family. I never knew how kind people could be, but learned that summer. Bud, 70, Oxford, Conn.: I was attending UConn in the early 1970s, and they got a lot of airplay on FM radio. "Casey Jones" was big. They were going to play the Yale Bowl, so I picked up Workingman's Dead, which was their latest LP. I couldn't believe how "country" it sounded. I expected something heavier. I played it once or twice and put it away. I still have that record, and it has become one of my favorites of the last 50 years. Rick B., 62, La Crescent, Minn.: In 1978, when I was 15, I read a reference in National Lampoon that characterized the Dead as being "still numero uno with the acid heads." And since I had every intention of becoming one at the first opportunity, I decided that this was probably a band that I should be listening to. What do you think of the Grateful Dead's post-Garcia reincarnations, like Dead & Company? Mark K., 54, Fort Myers, Fla.: Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I'd still be seeing this music and enjoying the scene I loved so much some 20 years after his death — thanks to Dead & Company. I credit John Mayer especially for introducing this music to new generations. Now I have fun razzing all the newbies at D&C. A phrase me and my crew always repeat: We saw Jerry. Anna M., 56, Oregon City, Ore.: I love it. It brings the family together and helps introduce younger people to the music. I love seeing young people at shows that have never seen Jerry, but they know the music, and it's meaningful and important to them. That is the power of the music, the message and the love. Dori R., 59, Boulder, Colo.: I enjoy the shows but can't avoid feeling like the same magic is just not there. Brit O., 61, Eureka, Calif. Meh. Never the same without Jerry. Marianne R., 57, Myrtle Beach, S.C.: Initially, I was done. I grieved the loss for at least a year. In 1996 Further came to town, I went with long- time Deadhead friends for closure. I saw Rat Dog and Phil Lesh & Friends over the years, but once John Mayer joined, I didn't see anything Dead-related until Dead & Company at the Sphere in Las Vegas in 2024. It was like going home. It was a very emotional experience. I am so glad I went. I loved being with my "people" again. I am also so happy that new, young people are constantly discovering the music. Jay D., 70, Novato, Calif.: I just saw Dead & Company at the Sphere in Las Vegas in April. Like everybody says, it was amazing! I used to be in the camp that after Jerry died there was no more Grateful Dead, but no more. John Mayer is a great guitarist, and he is doing right by the Dead's music. John, 53, Ringwood, N.J.: I love them all for different reasons. I'm fortunate to have seen the Dead with Jerry. All the other reincarnations have just carried the music further and connected it to newer generations of fans. What did Garcia mean to you then? And what does he mean to you today? Gary B., 73, Columbia, Md.: He was a tour guide to so many different kinds of music, and today he, more than any other individual, is the uniting force behind so many different bands and artists. Mitch W., 57, Wake Forest, N.C.: Jerry Garcia was the leader of the greatest American band ever. I miss him and still miss him (even though Bobby [Weir], day by day, is resembling Jerry). Wish my kid could have seen him and the Dead. Mark K., 54, Fort Myers, Fla.: No guitarist's music ever spoke to me the way Jerry's did. As a singer, he understood and seemed to feel the lyrics (lost on many singers), and as a guitar player and bandleader, he was like the pied piper for many of us who weren't into hair bands. Marianne R., 57, Myrtle Beach, S.C.: He was like family, even though I never met him. I grew up with that band. Today, I smile any time I think of him or those days of my youth. That music and scene made me who I am. Beverly, 51, Lewisville, Maine: Jerry was the poppa bear, setting the example of kindness, honesty and vulnerability. He's still a legend in my book. Lauren T., 53, Shelby, Ala.: He was just so f***ing cool. So talented. His music meant something to me. Still does. I played the Dead in the delivery room when I gave birth to my children. Played it for them when they were babies. On the way to and from school. Now, my adult kids have all the Grateful Dead songs on their Spotify playlists. I try to explain what the shows were like to my kids but they can't possibly understand the vibe. I hate that they'll never see or hear Jerry live. Anna M., 56, Oregon City, Ore.: I have always viewed Jerry as someone who rescued me from a very limited worldview. To see all the many wonderful people that loved the Dead, to get to know them, to have my mind expanded with new ideas, new ways of looking at life — he was monumental in my development into who I was meant to be. He was the gateway for me; his lyrics and words are touchstones for my soul.

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into a world of global content with local flavor? Download Daily8 app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store