Yesterday was the 50th anniversary of the death of one of the most influential musicians of the rock era. On February 3rd, near Clear Lake, Iowa, the small plane carrying Charles Hardin Holley, ("Buddy" Holly), along with Richie Valenzuela (Ritchie Valens) and J.P Richardson, Jr., (the "Big Bopper"), crashed and cartwheeled in a farm field outside of Clear Lake.Buddy Holly was only 22 but already had a number of hits, produced in Clovis, New Mexico, by Norman Petty. As Buddy became even more popular he signed a major record contract, appeared on the Ed Sullivan show, and was destined to be a rock legend.
A friend of mine from later years, Dan Miller, who had served in the U.S. Air Force near Clovis, had also worked as a part-time disc jockey for Norman Petty's radio station in the 1960s where he learned all there was to know about Holly, and Petty's other proteges, Buddy Knox (Party Doll), Jimmy Gilmer and the Fireballs (Bottle of Wine), and even Bobby Vee (Devil or Angel, Rubber Ball).
In the 1970s, Miller decided to take a garage band he was managing (Legend) to record with Norman Petty. I got to tag along with them to New Mexico and in addition to meeting Norman and Vi Petty, got a private tour of the tiny studio where Buddy Holly made his first recordings. We saw the room where the "reverb" for "Peggy Sue" and the great drum accompaniments were recorded.
Holly, in death, went on to become widely imitated by the Beatles (whose name was inspired by Holly's "Crickets"), the Rolling Stones, Linda Ronstadt, and many others. Although Don McLean memorialized this date as "the day the music died", the music may have been enhanced even more by this tragedy. It is true that the musicians died and with them unwritten new songs that may have added even more, but with the abbreviated catalog Holly, Valens, and Richardson left behind, we still benefit from their groundbreaking achievements.
Two years ago my wife and I had occasion to be near Clear Lake, Iowa in our motor home a
nd after visting the Surf Ballroom, site of the last concert, we made the trip to the farm field where the plane came down. Still a field of corn stubble, the land was waiting to produce a new crop of corn just as it had in 1959. We hiked the corn rows about a half mile in from the gravel road to the memorial to the three musicians who died there on that cold night. Simple yet poignant, the crafted monument was festooned with items left by others who had passed by. This was a small shrine to the beginnings of rock and roll, an
d as such, was moving in itself. One could get a sense of music history cut short here as we pondered the crash that night. The musicians may have died, but the music surely did not. Not Fade Away, Buddy.
nd after visting the Surf Ballroom, site of the last concert, we made the trip to the farm field where the plane came down. Still a field of corn stubble, the land was waiting to produce a new crop of corn just as it had in 1959. We hiked the corn rows about a half mile in from the gravel road to the memorial to the three musicians who died there on that cold night. Simple yet poignant, the crafted monument was festooned with items left by others who had passed by. This was a small shrine to the beginnings of rock and roll, an
d as such, was moving in itself. One could get a sense of music history cut short here as we pondered the crash that night. The musicians may have died, but the music surely did not. Not Fade Away, Buddy.
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