We were a bunch of 20-year-olds from San Jose who listened to the Grateful Dead! We saw many Dead shows at Winterland, too numerous to count! They usually played three nights in a row there, however on this occasion, the grand ballroom was given the last send off by the Grateful Dead.

Plans were made for shifts to wait in line at the entrance to Winterland. We got one of our guys in line and took turns waiting, so we could get our regular seats in the front row balcony, stage right, Jerry Garcia side. We held six seats and then the shenanigans began. We snuck in props to entertain ourselves and the crowd: bubbles, stickers, silver and gold stars to stick on fellow concertgoers, who thought they were anointed into some sort of club. At one point during the show, someone had a green fluorescent plastic snap glow in the dark flare which could be used as a projectile, however, on this occasion someone broke it open and started flashing it all over everyone; the dots and trails of this goo stuck out under the black lights. It was a beautiful night, enjoyed by friends, strangers and ghosts of concerts past. Everyone celebrated and partied together knowing full well that this was the end of a time when live music reigned supreme as well as the end of an amazing time period in our lives. It was the closing of the old barn in all her glory. I was fed breakfast at dawn: a lunch bag brown bag with a bagel, cream cheese, an orange and a Tootsie Roll. The rendezvous was successful even as many drank, snorted, dosed, smoked and shroomed the night away.

Excerpt by Ric Curtice: Contained in the Book “This Old Building: The Closing of Winterland”