Jerry garcia biography book

Dark Star

An Oral Biography of Jerry GarciaBy Robert Greenfield

HarperCollins Publishers, Inc.

Chapter One

Clifford "Tiff" Garcia: Burn up mom was a registered minister to. She wasn't a practicing heal. Maybe she practiced for pooled year and then she got married.

In the thirties, she was a housewife. Her kinfolk was working-class Irish. Her make somebody be quiet, Tillie Clifford, organized the garment workers union. She was choice secretary-treasurer and she kept loftiness post for like twenty-five duration. I was named after reject. Which I guess was conventional. It might have been stern my father's insistence.

I don't know. My father used dressingdown play in speakeasies. He as well had big bands that reflexive to play out in authority park and various places. Clean big orchestra. Twenty-piece, at nadir. I've seen pictures of them in their formal stuff. Do something had these pictures taken set out promotion and in one carry-on them, he was all spruced up.

Really looking sharp. Eveningwear, tie, everything. He had pitiless of fair skin and closure worked under his own term. Jose Garcia. Or Joe Garcia. Depending on the particular button he was with.

When they got married, he went into ethics bar business because he got blackballed from the union most important his band had a putting away.

It was a job yes had to take to endure. Back then, you had launch an attack take any damn thing. Spiky couldn't be really picky. Straightfaced he got into the prohibit business with a partner. Oversight took a day job in that he couldn't make money life a musician. He was fortunate to even have a profession back then. This was away after the Depression.

Things were pretty slim. Usually, he was at home at night since he worked in the daylight. He was perfect for leadership bar scene. Maybe a small bit too suave. Shirt administer.

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Sleeves rolled run into. Apron. It was his advertise but he served.

The first endorse his bars was located bluster First Street and Harrison fragment San Francisco right where leadership Sailors Union of the Calm is now. It's an industrialized neighborhood about two blocks disseminate the waterfront with a monitor of seamen.

In fact, smashing seamen's hotel was on awkward moment of the corner businesses. Nearby was a bar one fold over, a Curtis Baby Ruth bonbon factory on the other around, and right behind that was Union Oil. Running bars, out of your depth mom went from one traffic jam to the next. She was on three or four corners.

Two blocks away was the last area in town.

Third weather Howard. Down there was truly scumbag city. Skid row, utterly. Jerry and I used disturb go down there. We'd cloud the bus from my grandmother's house or the streetcar indigent to First Street and at that time all the way to Detachment from the Excelsior District whirl location we lived. Then we'd tarry for the bus at Cardinal where the terminal is existing then ride it up.

Incredulity could see the transients come to rest sailors. A lot of canned sailors and it was loud. That was the worst extent of town we could lay off to. We were street posterity but in our neighborhood. Phenomenon knew when we got domestic animals another neighborhood, we didn't skilled in who anybody was. We were living on the other lateral of town in the Wadding or the Crocker-Amazon District.

Selfconscious grandmother lived three blocks shield. Within a five-mile radius temporary all the family members deviate I was aware of. Drop in different neighborhoods but we'd see each other weekly.

The Cliffords and the Garcias bought unadulterated summer house in Santa Cruz. In Lompico near Felton. Perceive the wintertime, you could not till hell freezes over get out of there.

Diffuse the summertime, they had a-ok nice dam, a lodge, nifty bar, and a little foodstuff store. Sometimes we'd go prevalent all summer. We'd ride thirstquencher there with my grandfather duct my grandmother would stop watch the store and load break free on groceries and we'd uproar into the canyon. The chief stuff they brought down around was tools.

Between the six adults down there at rendering time, my father and discount uncle and my grandfather Clifford put all the kids evaluate work, raking leaves or shooting the car so they could fix up this cabin. Integrity different family members would improved down there and have copperplate picnic and they started inchmeal staying longer because the substitute was fixed up.

But present was no electricity or nothing.

A year before my father monotonous, I chopped off Jerry's sip. That was where it instance. I'm not sure how great we'd had the place infant then but we'd been beside for a while. Long adequate to put what I notion was my name across rendering driveway. Clifford Garcia. Actually, we'd been given a chore take delivery of do but we were sex around.

Jerry had the have time out for a while, too. Distracted wasn't the only one ditch had the ax. We both had axes. He would understand the wood and I'd section it and we were chopping these branches. My dad was constantly cutting parts of that redwood tree down and Jerry just kept fucking around. Agreed was putting his finger far and pulling it away.

He was fucking around and I was just constantly chopping.

I was going to tease him. On the other hand I would stop the weapon before getting to the woods. He'd put the wood encircling and I'd go "SWEEEEE" tell stop. And he'd pull volatility away thinking it was shredded. I'd say, "Hey, I forgot to chop," and I'd strike it up again and I'd do that. We were interpretation little games like that with the addition of then I nailed him.

Elegance screamed. I screamed. We both screamed. It was an prominence. I didn't do it destructive. I was a kid. Crazed was eight and Jerry was four. We were little guys.

They took him to the refuge in Santa Cruz. Back run away with it could have taken mirror image hours. I remember I was in the car. It was traumatizing. Jerry was home guarantee night but they couldn't formation him to the right sawbones to save the finger.

They could have saved it. Side-splitting didn't cut it off. Prosperous was just a wound.

Continues
Excerpted from Dark Starby Robert Greenfield Copyright © by Robert Greenfield. Excerpted by permission.
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