Ron "Pigpen" McKernan wonders if he's the only person not tripping inside a warehouse in the burned-out Watts neighborhood of Los Angeles, where the Grateful Dead are soundtracking yet another acid test. He further wonders if he's the only one who recognizes the gravity of the situation when the LAPD burst in. Later, he falls hard for a likeminded blues lover who turns on her lovelight. But not before he falls into a pit of despair when he is unknowingly dosed and embarks on a trip from which he may never return.
Sources:
A Long Strange Trip: The Inside Story of the Grateful Dead, by Dennis McNally
Searching for the Sound, by Phil Lesh
Grateful Dead 1966 “Viola Lee Blues” rehearsals
Owsley Stanley: The King of LSD (Rolling Stone)
Watts Rebellion (History.com)
Grateful Dead Guide: Viola Lee Blues (Dead Essays)
Watts Acid Test - 2/12/66 (Truckin’ with the Dead)
The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test “The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test” & “The Fugitive” Summary and Analysis (GradeSaver)
Grateful Dead Guide: Pigpen Solo (Dead Essays)
Grateful Dead live at Youth Opportunities Center 1966
Unearthed Grateful Dead pool party photos debut at North Bay museum exhibition (SF Chronicle)
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:04):
Double Elvis Club is the production of I Heart Radio
and Double Elvis Ron. Pigpen mcernan died at the age
of seven, and he lived the life that was completely
out of his control. I can give you twenty seven
reasons why that statement is true. Three would be the
(00:26):
number of months he lived in a burned out section
of Los Angeles while his band The Grateful Dead continues
to soundtrack a scene that he loathed. Another two would
be the number of barrels of contraband that had to
be quickly hidden when l ap d made an unexpected
appearance at one of the band shows. Another two for
the number of months he would turn on his love
(00:46):
life for a certain raspy voiced blues singer, even though
it never illuminated a path the true love. Another fourteen
would be the number of asset tests The Dead would
play before pig Pen was unknowingly dosed and was forced
to live through a horrifyingly bad trip. In six would
be the number of years pig had left to live on.
(01:07):
The Grateful Dead returned to their hometown of San Francisco
and began their unlikely ascent to becoming counterculture icons. All
totally on this our third episode of season five, A
soundtrack to a scene A turned on love like horrifyingly
bad trip and Ron Pigpen mccernin, Um Jake Brennan and
(01:33):
this is y Ron Pig Penn McCurtain stood behind his
(02:22):
box continental. The open bottle of Thunderbirds sitting on top
of the organ vibrated with each note. The Grateful Dead
were deep into rehearsal. They were sharpening their set, preparing
for their trip to Los Angeles to play a series
of acid tests for Ken Kesey's Pranksters and hoping to
take a major step towards a record deal. And they
(02:43):
were also following Bear, the group's sound man and currently
their only form of cash flow. San Francisco is getting
too hot. Bears Berkeley home had just been rated and
the authorities said he was making speed and they confiscated
his equipment. He did fewer eyes on him to make
his patent and acid, especially in the amounts he intended to,
(03:06):
But first the Dead needed to get through this rehearsal.
The band kicked into viola lee blues Phil Lush's baseline,
chugging along while Pig interjected by stabbing chords on his vox.
Pigs started belting out the gritty vocal alongside Jerry Garcia,
and Pigpen felt at home in the pocket. To him,
(03:26):
the blues were comfortable, broken in, like the leather vest
and levies he'd been wearing for months. Pig was also
well on his way to a solid buzz, which made
him feel even more comfortable. Suddenly, the band halted to
a stop. Come on, Pigpen, it's a b man. You're
singing in d pig pleaded his case. Wasn't he singing
(03:48):
to be? He was sure he was in key? Jerry
assured him he was not. Pigpen wasn't about to challenge Jerry,
not regarding music plus the interpersonal dynamics of the band
where shift. Jerry was slowly becoming the dead sta facto leader.
He was the source, He had the range, the knowledge. Sure,
pig Pen knew the blues, and Phil new classical, and
(04:10):
Billy knew rock and roll and Bobby knew folk, but
Jerry knew a little bit of everything. So what pig
Pen thought they were a blues pan? Weren't they well
they was supposed to be. Pigpen was confused or frustrated,
and maybe a little both. Jerry, on the other hand,
he was visibly frustrated that way he got when things
didn't sound the way he wanted. Pigpen singing was definitely
(04:34):
not sounding the way he wanted. Pigpen, let the rest
of the dead hear what they wanted to hear. He
get it together, step out from behind the organ and
just focus on singing. All right, let's hit it again.
The band started grooving, only to halt moments later. Pig
held him up over and over and over again. He
couldn't get it right. He kept slurring his words and
(04:57):
dragging behind his vocal, always just too far off a
beat behind Jerry's. He felt everyone's eyes burn into him,
just like the thunderbird was burning up his throat. Jerry
was heated. He called for Bob to hop on the vocal.
Pigpen was done for now. The band kicked in again,
(05:17):
this time with Bob singing Pigpen's lines. Pigpen gritted his teeth.
Violi Blues was his song. It wasn't about to be
pushed out completely, so he joined in any way, deliberately
out of tune, and Jerry stopped the jam again. What
the fuck? He told Pigpen to pack up ship and
get out, and everyone could see pig was hammered. He
(05:39):
wasn't in the right state to get into a flow
state with the rest of the band. His focus was
non existent. Pigpens smiled. He hoped it would disarm Jerry
snap him out of his rage. He brought the bottle
of Thunderbird to his lips once more, and Jerry told
him to get the bottle out of his sight before
we broke it over Pigpen's head. So that's how it's
(06:00):
going to be. Pick shrank, drinking smoking, dog dropping acid.
It was all part of the scene, but once it
started altering the Dead's performance, that's when Lions got crossed.
The grateful Dead. We're not messing around. They were serious musicians,
but damn sometimes the Thunderbird just made the whole thing
(06:20):
cook a little bit more. The pig Pen left, his
rehearsal was over. Maybe Jerry was right. Who the funk knew?
He loved the guy. He was just a little bit
of a hardass sometimes, and we'll blow over. Two months later,
pig Fen sat on the floor flipping through channels on
a television set in front of him. Christ he had
(06:41):
never seen so many channels on one TV, the dull
glow of the box. It was a trip all on
its own. But this was some serious visual ala cart shape.
And then again the Dead had finally found themselves in
the center of it all, show business, the Dream Factory,
the Magic Store, Los Angeles. It finally made it so,
(07:01):
not as an found success, but as in physically arrived.
Their house sat and Watts, a neighborhood in South Los
Angeles where racially charged riots had recently destroyed entire city blocks.
The place was a smoldering shell of its former cell.
The aftermath was palpable. There was an uncertain, uneasy energy
(07:23):
in the city. Los Angeles was definitely not San Francisco.
There was something in the air in l a and
perched on the edge of revolution. The voice called out
from the other room, Lunch and the other members of
the Dead and their girlfriends were already assembled in the kitchen.
By the time Pig Pig got there, Bear stood in
front of the stove frying a steak. Bear paid the
(07:46):
rent on the house they are currently standing in. Bear
paid for the instruments, and Bear paid for the food,
So they were going to eat whatever it was that
he was serving, and true to his nickname, bear ate meat,
he was adamant about it. Believed humans were strictly carnivorous,
fruits and vegetables were unnecessary. Bear dropped the cook steak
(08:07):
onto the counter and began cutting it up, and then
he opened the fridge. Pigpen peered in and it was
lined with gallons of milk, cartains of eggs, and one
massive carcass on the main shelf. Bear had gone down
to the butcher a few days ago to procure the meat,
and at this point it looked like the remains of
an animal picked apart on the serengetti. Pigpen's stomach turned his.
(08:29):
Bear hacked a large piece of meat off the slab
and tossed it in the pan. Sure the food was free,
but even steak was to lure after a while. A
few minutes later, Bear dropped the rare cut of meat
in front of pig and Pig cut into it with
a sharp knife. Bear started listing off the benefits of
the meal, the entire diet. Pig It heard it all before,
(08:52):
but he let Bear ran as long as he didn't
try to push his acid on him. The house in
Los Angeles known as the Big Pink House, it was
already more than pagan bargain for. When Beart told him
he was heading south from San Francisco, the Dead thought
that it might be a perfect opportunity to rub shoulders
with some music executives and find a way into the business. Hell,
(09:13):
maybe even read a few songs while they were at it.
So far, it had been a bust when they arrived.
The house had no furniture, and they stepped on foam mattresses,
sat on the floor, and in addition to being subjected
to bears all meat diet, the Dead's reality was consistently altered.
Because Bear Osley didn't go to Los Angeles to cook
steaks all day. He went to l A to make
(09:35):
a ship ton of acid. Pig Pen did all he
could do to stay away from the stuff, but it
was becoming more difficult, and the house began to feel
more like an inescapable prison. Bare package. Jealous d from
his room in the attic. The powder fell through the
floorboards and spread throughout the house, formula layer on everything
(09:55):
and everyone. And this, combined with the members of the
Dead regularly volunteering to be tests objects for a Bear
meant nearly everyone was incredibly high at all times, the
mad scientists and his experimental subjects. But pig Pen was
no guinea. Pig just sat in the corner, sipped on
a beer and watched them tripped. L s D didn't
(10:17):
deter the dead from working, though Bear did care about
their career, and he knew what they were doing was important,
and pig Pen was grateful for that. Bear promised you
wouldn't make them help package the acid. So while Bear
divided the powder into reasonable portions, the dead rehearsed their
daytime rehearsals kept them sharp. But finding a gig in
(10:37):
l A there wasn't an asset test was proving difficult,
and since the dead weren't making any money, Bear had
them distribute. The band began pedaling acid on the street,
spreading the good stuff to a whole new area of
the Golden State. They sold to locals, which included famous
musicians in Hollywood a listeners. It was easy. Everyone wanted
(10:57):
the stuff. This was Owsley asset, the real deal, and
it's sold like hotcakes. Expanding Paris mythology, But mostly the
days ran together and the only thing that became consistent
apart from their LSD infested living space, and they all
meat diet where the acid tests. The dead were still
operating as a house band for Kesey and the Pranksters,
(11:20):
now the l A Edition, and the tests were growing
bigger and getting stranger. Then the strangest test of all
came on February twelfth, in a dirty warehouse in the
middle of Watts. The combination of strobe lights flickering on
(12:05):
pale yellow walls and the sound of freaks doing their
freak out thing made the warehouse feel like Dr Frankenstein's laboratory.
At least it did. The pig Pen Pigs stood on
the stage and felt the dilated pupils of every single
vampire in the entire room fall upon him. He was
used to it by this point, being the only straight
(12:25):
one in the room, but tonight felt unusual. All these heads,
explorers of the outer rim, poor souls who are in
way too deep without direction. It just stared at him.
Pig new to expect weirdness at an acid test, but
seeing his attendants had grown with each happening, they were
now not just weird, they were unwieldy. This assembled mass
(12:49):
more than a hundred and fifty veterans and newcomers. The
light had come to this warehouse and watts for an experience,
and there were problems from the moment Neil Cassidy stepped
to the microphone and announced that the test was going
to begin. Pigpens shook his head about to begin. These
people are already gone, man. The whole thing was out
(13:11):
of order, in large part due to the fact that
Ken Keisi, the ring Eat or the Lion Tamer, the
largest sphere of influence in the group, was in Mexico
on the run after two charges of marijuana possession. The
pranksters were doing their best to fill the void, but
without their leader, couldn't quite get the organization of the
event right. They had booked this warehouse because it was cheap.
(13:32):
Neighborhood windows that had been blown out by maltop cocktails
just six months earlier remained shattered, an eerie reminder of
the unrest that remained unresolved. Inside the warehouse, two trash
barrels trash barrels full of cooling were dragged to the
center of the floor, and this was all typical of
the tests. What wasn't typical was the dosage, which was
(13:55):
well passed typical. Everyone who took a sip was fried.
One barrel was spiked with acid and the other was
quote for the kids, but who could tell the difference.
The dancers came off the floor begging for something to
replenish the sweat dripping off of them. Cotton mouth stoners
needed to quench their thirst. Wires were crossed more than once.
(14:17):
His cups were filled, and it only took a quick
second for a quick drink to become an exponentially trippy experience.
While the projectors covered the walls with shapes and a
myriad of colors, outside, the night was turning a deep
shade of disenchanted blue lap d It caught wind of
the tests earlier in the day were circling the warehouse,
(14:39):
and now they made themselves known. The freaks panicked. They
hid the kool aids. Some of them split hopping fences
for greener pastures, but there was no escaping. The building
was surrounded by barricades courtesy of l A's finest. The
cops didn't know what nefarious intentions these people had, and
they were still on edge from last August, when protesters
(14:59):
and cops flash for six days. Watts burned. Thirty four
people died. L A was rife with anti police fervor
in the wake of the riots, and lap D wasn't
taking any chances. Cops moved in and out of the
warehouse throughout the evening and monitor the situation, bringing in
an air of negative energy and bad vibes with them.
(15:20):
Pig watched the cops as they moved through the crowd.
He knew he looked like a doper, probably more than most,
his beating it goatee and long, bushy hair that his
Paisley headband could barely contain. He had nothing on him,
but still I could do without being harassed by a
boy in blue. Eventually, the cops had seen enough and
they left without making any trouble. As soon as they
(15:44):
were gone, the kool aid was brought back out. Pig
scanned the room for other members of the dead, and
they were scattered amongst the attendees named blamed Bear. The
Bear was busy getting the band's gear in place. His
obsession with how the group sounded had gone too far.
He told the dead they sounded like ship live because
I couldn't hear each other properly, and his gear was
(16:06):
necessary to avoid such issues. What resulted was multiple hours
of set up and break down before and after the shows,
endless amounts of cables to plug in and speakers to rearrange.
Just fucking get on with him. Man. Pig knew this
sound as good and Bear had it down right, but
these delays were infuriating. Pig Pen just wanted to plug
(16:28):
in and play, and the rest of the Dead could
care less. Bear's delays meant more time to partake in
the libations, but even the grateful Dead, who were as
herculean as anyone when it came to tripping, couldn't handle
being on stage after this particular batch of prankster's kool aid.
(16:48):
It started with Jerry two songs into the set, and
he called it quits. One by one, the other members
abandoned ship, each one descending into the crowd below. Pig
Pen stood on the stage alone. A woman in the crowd,
searching for her boyfriend, hysterically cried out, Ray, Ray, who cares?
(17:09):
And that plea could have been a mantra for the evening.
It was bizarre enough, pointing enough, just out there enough
to fit right in with the absolute mess unfolding in
the room. The pranks just took up the task, continuously
repeating the plea on the p a over and over again.
Who cares? Who cares? Who cares? Pig finished the beer
(17:29):
in his hand, and the most level headed person in
the room. These tests were supposed to be positive, enlightening, visceral, poetic,
but they're also supposed to feature live music. Things were
changing fast. The pig Pen feared they weren't changing for
the better. Something had to be done. He was too
good hearted to let these people forget why they were there.
(17:50):
Who cares? Ray? Who cares? Ray? I'll tell you who cares?
Pig Pen grabbed the microphone and stepped to the front
of the stage. These cats needed to chill the funk out.
He cleared his throat, and the muffled voices echoed off
the walls. And that woman who started it all, she
was so far past hysterical that she was becoming manic.
(18:12):
Ray Ray, Ray, Ray, I don't care, I don't care.
Pig calmly spoke into the microphone and asked the people
in the room if they felt good, if they could
locate their minds, And he spoke to the woman who
had lost her mind and her boyfriend. He reassured her
it was all good. He reassured all of them it
(18:32):
was all good. Ray would come back, baby. They all
had love, love love. The voice on the p a
rang out, who cares? Who cares? Pig chanted back in
a call and response pattern that he cared. It was
at first discorden and messy, but eventually became, against all
odds beautiful. Bill Kreutzman was inspired. He hopped on the
(18:54):
drums and gave Pig a backdrop to his rat. Pigged
through the attention in the room to him, and the
chaotic mass began to slowly flow into a calming wave
in a way that only he could. Pigs bluesy serenades
stripped back the layer of paranoia and anxiety and turned
the vibe on its head. It brought everyone back to earth,
(19:15):
put them back in touch with the present. People joined hands,
Pigpen continued to wrap, and the woman's boyfriend eventually returned.
The night was salvaged. The power of the blues was
not to be taken lightly. As dawn broke, Neil Cassidy
dumped the remaining cool aid down the storm train outside
in clear view of the police. In just over two
(19:38):
and a half years possession of LST would be illegal
in the United States. For now, who cares, just get
rid of it. This near train wreck of an acid
test was over. Pigpen couldn't help but feel that the
whole scene was coming to an end and they needed
to move on or they die. Grateful Dead played a
(20:01):
few more acid tests in LA but the shine was
off off of the tests, off of the city, off
the experience of living under Bear's roof. The last few
shows the Grateful Dead did play left much to be desired.
They couldn't seem to get a foothold in town no
matter what they tried. Bear was running out of funds.
(20:22):
Heheumantically packaged his remaining acid, just trying to get it
out of the house, and he was getting paranoid to
convinced ord be a repeat at the Berkeley Bus, Convinced
the police would break in in any second and he'd
be finished. The communal living and felt necessary to the
deaths process. But everyone agree this experiment in l A
had reached its logical conclusion. The dead needed to reset,
(20:45):
to go home and rest their bones. That suited Pigpen
just fine. The Grateful Dead found us sedate slice of
land just north of San Francisco, a fitting prototype for
the summer of love. We'll be right back after this word,
word word, pig Pens stared deeply into his singing partner's eyes.
(21:15):
He was lost in them, a wild, vibrant shade of sapphire.
Pig Pen was in a rock and roll band, so
of course he'd been with girls before, but this one
she was a woman. The two took turns belting out
blue standards, and although there were dozens of people around
them watching, it felt like they were the only two
people in the world. They continued to serenade each other
(21:39):
as they traded lines. They also traded swiggs of southern comfort.
Pig was transfixed. This woman wasn't just sharing the same
bottle with him, They shared the same essence. Pig was
losing his goddamn mind. The way her hair fell effortlessly
around her shoulders, her smile, and her voice. That voice,
(22:00):
the unmistakable voice that would go on to be one
of the most influential of all time. Rough Raspy Janis
Joplin was as real as they came. Janice had just
begun singing with big brother in the Holding Company and
in the summer of nineteen sixty six, the band and
seemingly the entire San Francisco music scene, had an open
(22:23):
invitation to the Grateful Dead's palatial estate just outside the city,
a compound of buildings surrounding a massive adobe mansion, Rancho Olmpoy,
discovered by the Dead's manager Rock Scully. Rancho alm Polly
was the timecastle up in the hills, lush green fields,
a swimming pool, a fountain that harkened back one hundred years,
(22:46):
detached from the modern world to allow the Dead to
continue their communal approach to music making, and also provided
a secluded spot for the group to do well whatever
that else they wanted to do. During the weekends, the
Grateful Dead their way into the city to gig, but
during the week everyone else made their way out to
Olempoly for a more free form version of what the
(23:06):
asset test had offered. Franksters served kool aid and rolled joints.
Neil Cassidy roaming the lawn, tossing a hammer high in
the air and catching it while simultaneously carrying on several
conversations absolute madness. More than half the participants traped around
nude music filled the air from both the musicians on
(23:27):
site and the FM radio, and the Dead set around
the radio late at night, listening to the future, their future,
devising a way to marry their approach to music with
what was happening The Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, Buddy Guy,
Electric Blues, the Common Thread. Pig Pen was just happy
that the Blues were pumping through the FM signal. The
(23:48):
dream was alive and well. It was a full year
before what would be considered the Summer Love, but life
on allmpoly predicted what was to come. It was a
commune outside of reality and alternate way of life. The
gathered residents at Alan Polly were forging a new path.
The BBC even such a team to investigate the undeniably
(24:10):
important cultural experience. They ate together, slept together, created art together,
and played music every day. A small stage and instruments
were set up just in front of the main house.
Different combinations of members from every band present floated on
and off the stage like Big Brothers. Janice Joplin and
the Deads were on pig Pen mccernan. In Pig's eyes,
(24:34):
Janice wasn't just radiant, she was a kindred spirit. Pig
and Janice were both from small towns, both knee deep
in the blues. They both felt every word they sang
in every part of their body. And as Pigpens sang
those words and stared into Janice's eyes, some chemical reaction
was taking place, something primal. The two left whatever was
(24:57):
happening between them on the Olm and Polly stage. That day,
Janis and Big Brother went back to their base camp
in nearby Lagnitis. As fate would have it, the Dead's
lease ended a few months later, and they decided to
set up shop at a day camp, also Lagnitis. The
camp was dotted with cabins and a main dining hall
where the band took meals. It was also just minutes
(25:20):
away from where Janis and Big Brother were staying. Janice
regularly traveled the dirt path between the band's two properties.
Emerging from the woods like a force of nature, she'd
head straight for the cabin Pig was bunking in. The
two would continue to trade blues on pigs Porch throughout
the day, and they could be found almost every evening
on the piano in the dining hall, entertaining to gather guests,
(25:44):
and they get cozy sip soco and saying for hours,
until they inevitably decided to head back to Pig's cabin
and entertain each other there for the rest of the evening.
Pig Pen didn't have the chance to fall him off.
He was a kind soul and romantic at hard, but
Janice wouldn't be tied down. They were ships in the
(26:04):
night many nights. Even without those long nights with Janice,
Lagnitis was a dream for pig The enchanted woodland setting
was the perfect backdrop for the dead to focus at
home their sound. The rehearsals were a shape shifting mix
of genres, as blurred as most people's minds were on
indefinite doses of bears acid. But the more Jerry took
(26:26):
the reins, the more pigs Rolls frontman diminished. Most days,
pig Pen was too drunk to notice. Increasingly. He spent
those days just soaking up sunshine, knocking back Southern comfort,
and smoking countless cigarettes while Jerry plotted the band's course.
Soon he charted the course right under the enchanted Lagnitis woods.
(26:47):
Because something was happening in the city. It was as
electrically charged as the looks Pig and Janice gave to
each other. San Francisco was quickly taking shape the Jefferson Airplane,
Quicksilver Messenger Service, Moby Grape sly in the family Stone.
Jerry was dead set on getting the Dead in the
Freaky Mix. First, the band let Bear go for now.
(27:11):
At least they were tired of sucumber some stage equipment,
and there were no hard feelings. It was just business. Besides,
Bear was focused on his own business, the LSD business.
As a parting gift, the band's dealer and cash flow
Sours bought them some new equipment, and then Bear packed
up to stuff and went back to Berkeley. Next, the
(27:31):
Dead almost completely dissolved their partnership with the Mary Praisters,
but not before one last show. The effects come on slowly.
(28:05):
At first, you feel nothing, maybe a placebo effect or
to it. It's all on your head. Ten minutes past,
and then fifteen you begin to think maybe you got
it dud, maybe it was a weak batch. Twenty minutes pass,
still nothing, and then wait, there there's something. It doesn't
(28:26):
happen all at once. It sounds like a light switch
just gets flicked on. It's a steady climb. It creeps
up your spine, and then it's not just in your head,
it's in your mind. Colors become more vivid. You wave
your hand in front of your face and watching disbelief
as a faint trail emanates from it. Your mind separates
(28:49):
itself from its bodily confines from your head. You begin
to question everything, and, depending on the amount and you've
ingested the horle and visual hallucinations, because incredibly vivid, they
feel real. You feel life as you've never felt it before. This,
of course, is the experience of a willing participant on LST,
(29:12):
a participant who, if properly briefed, understands that negative emotions
or thoughts can quickly undermine the entire experiment, and that
they should be prepared to roll with whatever waves come
their way. You know, try to stay positive, but it's
hard to stay positive when you've been unknowingly dosed. Dosing
was not an uncommon practice in the nineteen sixties, and
(29:35):
it was not uncommon amongst members of the asset tests scene.
They did call themselves pranksters, after all. So what happened
when the Grateful Dead stepped off the stage of the
San Francisco State asset tests came as no surprise. It
was inevitable. They needed a break before the second set
of the night. The first was successful, The band sounded good,
(29:55):
and they were being responsible with the acid they were
conscious of ingesting. It was happy returned to the test
scene and their first appearance at once since Los Angeles.
A six month hiatus in the woods had done the
Grateful Dead good. Things were at that point, going according
to Plant, the pig Pen was sipping on a beer
when he started to feel it, a slight tingle in
(30:17):
his legs. What's this now? The sensation grew soon it
wasn't just a tingle, and it wasn't just his legs.
Pig had him been drinking that much pattie. He sat
down and began to sweat. His heart was pounding. Pigpen
focused on his breathing, actively, working to slow it down.
After a few seconds, he started to even out. He
(30:38):
was okay. He tried to stand or was he already standing?
Did he ever sit down? The room stretched out in
front of him. The voices of everyone in the room echoed.
Everything seemed to be happening against slow motion. The Dead's manager,
Rock Scully, appeared. What was the matter. Pig Pen had
no legs, That's what was the matter. His pupils were
(31:00):
also dilated. Rock looked down to the open can of
beer and pig Pen's hands. Oh no, good God. The
next thing pig Pen knew he was being raised home.
He had been dosed, and it was anyone's guest to
who had done it. Pigpen had always had an open
bottle or can of something on stage, and the stage
was accessible to nearly anyone. Pig worried about what would
(31:23):
happen next. He didn't want the ship. He never wanted
the ship, and by the time Rock got him home,
pig was well into his trip. He began seeing shapes
in the ball, creatures moving about the house. He drove
into bed and under the covers, but kept murmuring about
what he was seeing. The anxiety shot through him. Second
stretched into days, Days became months, time became nothing. Who
(31:47):
was he? What was he? Why was he? Pig wrestled
with his own mind through the remaining hours of his trip.
While back at San Francisco State, the Asset Test was
falling into disarray. Without Pigpen to grow on the band
and remind them there around Planet Earth, things got weird,
Jerry kicked back to Pig's organ, and ken Kezi took
(32:07):
center stage. They plowed through a mad weird set, and
as Kesi stood in front of the Dead rapping to
the crowd, it slowly began to dawn on the band
members that there was a decision to make. They could
continue to be the Grateful Dead a k a. The
Acid Test House band continued to subject themselves to potential
misfires and misadventures with the Pranksters, or they could be
(32:31):
the Grateful Dead from San Francisco, their own thing. Another
test was scheduled for the end of October, on Halloween.
This would be the graduation, the culmination of the odyssey
the tests that embarked on and Kesey and the Pranksters
would go out with a bang. It was rumored they
intended to dose the entire water supply of the venue.
(32:53):
The levels of chaos had left the stratosphere. We're heading
into another universe, perhaps even a black hole. The Grateful
Dead and especially pig Pen where leary of the whole thing.
They would not play the asset Test graduation, and they
would never play another asset test at all. Four days later,
the State of California outlawed the possession of LSD as
(33:15):
if the Dead needed another sign, and they had made
their decision, all signs pointed towards being a good one
and they were no longer the house band her ken Kisi.
They were the Grateful Dead from San Francisco, and the
scene in San Francisco was about two roped. 'm Jake
(33:37):
Brennan and this is the Club. Club is hosted and
produced by me Jake Brennan for Double Elvis in partnership
(33:57):
with I Heart Radio. Seth d is the lead writer
and co producer. This episode was mixed by Joe Edinburgh.
Additional music and score elements by Ryan Spraaker and Henry Lunana.
This episode was written by Ted Omo, story and copy
ending by Pata Healy. Sources for this episode are available
at Double Elvis dot com on the twenty seven Club
(34:19):
series page, Talk to me on social at disgrace Land Pod,
and hang out with me live on a Twitch channel
disgrace Land Talks. For more news on your favorite podcast,
follow at Double Elvis on Instagram. Rocar ROLLA what up
here is
Double Elvis Club is the production of I Heart Radio
and Double Elvis Ron. Pigpen mcernan died at the age
of seven, and he lived the life that was completely
out of his control. I can give you twenty seven
reasons why that statement is true. Three would be the
(00:26):
number of months he lived in a burned out section
of Los Angeles while his band The Grateful Dead continues
to soundtrack a scene that he loathed. Another two would
be the number of barrels of contraband that had to
be quickly hidden when l ap d made an unexpected
appearance at one of the band shows. Another two for
the number of months he would turn on his love
(00:46):
life for a certain raspy voiced blues singer, even though
it never illuminated a path the true love. Another fourteen
would be the number of asset tests The Dead would
play before pig Pen was unknowingly dosed and was forced
to live through a horrifyingly bad trip. In six would
be the number of years pig had left to live on.
(01:07):
The Grateful Dead returned to their hometown of San Francisco
and began their unlikely ascent to becoming counterculture icons. All
totally on this our third episode of season five, A
soundtrack to a scene A turned on love like horrifyingly
bad trip and Ron Pigpen mccernin, Um Jake Brennan and
(01:33):
this is y Ron Pig Penn McCurtain stood behind his
(02:22):
box continental. The open bottle of Thunderbirds sitting on top
of the organ vibrated with each note. The Grateful Dead
were deep into rehearsal. They were sharpening their set, preparing
for their trip to Los Angeles to play a series
of acid tests for Ken Kesey's Pranksters and hoping to
take a major step towards a record deal. And they
(02:43):
were also following Bear, the group's sound man and currently
their only form of cash flow. San Francisco is getting
too hot. Bears Berkeley home had just been rated and
the authorities said he was making speed and they confiscated
his equipment. He did fewer eyes on him to make
his patent and acid, especially in the amounts he intended to,
(03:06):
But first the Dead needed to get through this rehearsal.
The band kicked into viola lee blues Phil Lush's baseline,
chugging along while Pig interjected by stabbing chords on his vox.
Pigs started belting out the gritty vocal alongside Jerry Garcia,
and Pigpen felt at home in the pocket. To him,
(03:26):
the blues were comfortable, broken in, like the leather vest
and levies he'd been wearing for months. Pig was also
well on his way to a solid buzz, which made
him feel even more comfortable. Suddenly, the band halted to
a stop. Come on, Pigpen, it's a b man. You're
singing in d pig pleaded his case. Wasn't he singing
(03:48):
to be? He was sure he was in key? Jerry
assured him he was not. Pigpen wasn't about to challenge Jerry,
not regarding music plus the interpersonal dynamics of the band
where shift. Jerry was slowly becoming the dead sta facto leader.
He was the source, He had the range, the knowledge. Sure,
pig Pen knew the blues, and Phil new classical, and
(04:10):
Billy knew rock and roll and Bobby knew folk, but
Jerry knew a little bit of everything. So what pig
Pen thought they were a blues pan? Weren't they well
they was supposed to be. Pigpen was confused or frustrated,
and maybe a little both. Jerry, on the other hand,
he was visibly frustrated that way he got when things
didn't sound the way he wanted. Pigpen singing was definitely
(04:34):
not sounding the way he wanted. Pigpen, let the rest
of the dead hear what they wanted to hear. He
get it together, step out from behind the organ and
just focus on singing. All right, let's hit it again.
The band started grooving, only to halt moments later. Pig
held him up over and over and over again. He
couldn't get it right. He kept slurring his words and
(04:57):
dragging behind his vocal, always just too far off a
beat behind Jerry's. He felt everyone's eyes burn into him,
just like the thunderbird was burning up his throat. Jerry
was heated. He called for Bob to hop on the vocal.
Pigpen was done for now. The band kicked in again,
(05:17):
this time with Bob singing Pigpen's lines. Pigpen gritted his teeth.
Violi Blues was his song. It wasn't about to be
pushed out completely, so he joined in any way, deliberately
out of tune, and Jerry stopped the jam again. What
the fuck? He told Pigpen to pack up ship and
get out, and everyone could see pig was hammered. He
(05:39):
wasn't in the right state to get into a flow
state with the rest of the band. His focus was
non existent. Pigpens smiled. He hoped it would disarm Jerry
snap him out of his rage. He brought the bottle
of Thunderbird to his lips once more, and Jerry told
him to get the bottle out of his sight before
we broke it over Pigpen's head. So that's how it's
(06:00):
going to be. Pick shrank, drinking smoking, dog dropping acid.
It was all part of the scene, but once it
started altering the Dead's performance, that's when Lions got crossed.
The grateful Dead. We're not messing around. They were serious musicians,
but damn sometimes the Thunderbird just made the whole thing
(06:20):
cook a little bit more. The pig Pen left, his
rehearsal was over. Maybe Jerry was right. Who the funk knew?
He loved the guy. He was just a little bit
of a hardass sometimes, and we'll blow over. Two months later,
pig Fen sat on the floor flipping through channels on
a television set in front of him. Christ he had
(06:41):
never seen so many channels on one TV, the dull
glow of the box. It was a trip all on
its own. But this was some serious visual ala cart shape.
And then again the Dead had finally found themselves in
the center of it all, show business, the Dream Factory,
the Magic Store, Los Angeles. It finally made it so,
(07:01):
not as an found success, but as in physically arrived.
Their house sat and Watts, a neighborhood in South Los
Angeles where racially charged riots had recently destroyed entire city blocks.
The place was a smoldering shell of its former cell.
The aftermath was palpable. There was an uncertain, uneasy energy
(07:23):
in the city. Los Angeles was definitely not San Francisco.
There was something in the air in l a and
perched on the edge of revolution. The voice called out
from the other room, Lunch and the other members of
the Dead and their girlfriends were already assembled in the kitchen.
By the time Pig Pig got there, Bear stood in
front of the stove frying a steak. Bear paid the
(07:46):
rent on the house they are currently standing in. Bear
paid for the instruments, and Bear paid for the food,
So they were going to eat whatever it was that
he was serving, and true to his nickname, bear ate meat,
he was adamant about it. Believed humans were strictly carnivorous,
fruits and vegetables were unnecessary. Bear dropped the cook steak
(08:07):
onto the counter and began cutting it up, and then
he opened the fridge. Pigpen peered in and it was
lined with gallons of milk, cartains of eggs, and one
massive carcass on the main shelf. Bear had gone down
to the butcher a few days ago to procure the meat,
and at this point it looked like the remains of
an animal picked apart on the serengetti. Pigpen's stomach turned his.
(08:29):
Bear hacked a large piece of meat off the slab
and tossed it in the pan. Sure the food was free,
but even steak was to lure after a while. A
few minutes later, Bear dropped the rare cut of meat
in front of pig and Pig cut into it with
a sharp knife. Bear started listing off the benefits of
the meal, the entire diet. Pig It heard it all before,
(08:52):
but he let Bear ran as long as he didn't
try to push his acid on him. The house in
Los Angeles known as the Big Pink House, it was
already more than pagan bargain for. When Beart told him
he was heading south from San Francisco, the Dead thought
that it might be a perfect opportunity to rub shoulders
with some music executives and find a way into the business. Hell,
(09:13):
maybe even read a few songs while they were at it.
So far, it had been a bust when they arrived.
The house had no furniture, and they stepped on foam mattresses,
sat on the floor, and in addition to being subjected
to bears all meat diet, the Dead's reality was consistently altered.
Because Bear Osley didn't go to Los Angeles to cook
steaks all day. He went to l A to make
(09:35):
a ship ton of acid. Pig Pen did all he
could do to stay away from the stuff, but it
was becoming more difficult, and the house began to feel
more like an inescapable prison. Bare package. Jealous d from
his room in the attic. The powder fell through the
floorboards and spread throughout the house, formula layer on everything
(09:55):
and everyone. And this, combined with the members of the
Dead regularly volunteering to be tests objects for a Bear
meant nearly everyone was incredibly high at all times, the
mad scientists and his experimental subjects. But pig Pen was
no guinea. Pig just sat in the corner, sipped on
a beer and watched them tripped. L s D didn't
(10:17):
deter the dead from working, though Bear did care about
their career, and he knew what they were doing was important,
and pig Pen was grateful for that. Bear promised you
wouldn't make them help package the acid. So while Bear
divided the powder into reasonable portions, the dead rehearsed their
daytime rehearsals kept them sharp. But finding a gig in
(10:37):
l A there wasn't an asset test was proving difficult,
and since the dead weren't making any money, Bear had
them distribute. The band began pedaling acid on the street,
spreading the good stuff to a whole new area of
the Golden State. They sold to locals, which included famous
musicians in Hollywood a listeners. It was easy. Everyone wanted
(10:57):
the stuff. This was Owsley asset, the real deal, and
it's sold like hotcakes. Expanding Paris mythology, But mostly the
days ran together and the only thing that became consistent
apart from their LSD infested living space, and they all
meat diet where the acid tests. The dead were still
operating as a house band for Kesey and the Pranksters,
(11:20):
now the l A Edition, and the tests were growing
bigger and getting stranger. Then the strangest test of all
came on February twelfth, in a dirty warehouse in the
middle of Watts. The combination of strobe lights flickering on
(12:05):
pale yellow walls and the sound of freaks doing their
freak out thing made the warehouse feel like Dr Frankenstein's laboratory.
At least it did. The pig Pen Pigs stood on
the stage and felt the dilated pupils of every single
vampire in the entire room fall upon him. He was
used to it by this point, being the only straight
(12:25):
one in the room, but tonight felt unusual. All these heads,
explorers of the outer rim, poor souls who are in
way too deep without direction. It just stared at him.
Pig new to expect weirdness at an acid test, but
seeing his attendants had grown with each happening, they were
now not just weird, they were unwieldy. This assembled mass
(12:49):
more than a hundred and fifty veterans and newcomers. The
light had come to this warehouse and watts for an experience,
and there were problems from the moment Neil Cassidy stepped
to the microphone and announced that the test was going
to begin. Pigpens shook his head about to begin. These
people are already gone, man. The whole thing was out
(13:11):
of order, in large part due to the fact that
Ken Keisi, the ring Eat or the Lion Tamer, the
largest sphere of influence in the group, was in Mexico
on the run after two charges of marijuana possession. The
pranksters were doing their best to fill the void, but
without their leader, couldn't quite get the organization of the
event right. They had booked this warehouse because it was cheap.
(13:32):
Neighborhood windows that had been blown out by maltop cocktails
just six months earlier remained shattered, an eerie reminder of
the unrest that remained unresolved. Inside the warehouse, two trash
barrels trash barrels full of cooling were dragged to the
center of the floor, and this was all typical of
the tests. What wasn't typical was the dosage, which was
(13:55):
well passed typical. Everyone who took a sip was fried.
One barrel was spiked with acid and the other was
quote for the kids, but who could tell the difference.
The dancers came off the floor begging for something to
replenish the sweat dripping off of them. Cotton mouth stoners
needed to quench their thirst. Wires were crossed more than once.
(14:17):
His cups were filled, and it only took a quick
second for a quick drink to become an exponentially trippy experience.
While the projectors covered the walls with shapes and a
myriad of colors, outside, the night was turning a deep
shade of disenchanted blue lap d It caught wind of
the tests earlier in the day were circling the warehouse,
(14:39):
and now they made themselves known. The freaks panicked. They
hid the kool aids. Some of them split hopping fences
for greener pastures, but there was no escaping. The building
was surrounded by barricades courtesy of l A's finest. The
cops didn't know what nefarious intentions these people had, and
they were still on edge from last August, when protesters
(14:59):
and cops flash for six days. Watts burned. Thirty four
people died. L A was rife with anti police fervor
in the wake of the riots, and lap D wasn't
taking any chances. Cops moved in and out of the
warehouse throughout the evening and monitor the situation, bringing in
an air of negative energy and bad vibes with them.
(15:20):
Pig watched the cops as they moved through the crowd.
He knew he looked like a doper, probably more than most,
his beating it goatee and long, bushy hair that his
Paisley headband could barely contain. He had nothing on him,
but still I could do without being harassed by a
boy in blue. Eventually, the cops had seen enough and
they left without making any trouble. As soon as they
(15:44):
were gone, the kool aid was brought back out. Pig
scanned the room for other members of the dead, and
they were scattered amongst the attendees named blamed Bear. The
Bear was busy getting the band's gear in place. His
obsession with how the group sounded had gone too far.
He told the dead they sounded like ship live because
I couldn't hear each other properly, and his gear was
(16:06):
necessary to avoid such issues. What resulted was multiple hours
of set up and break down before and after the shows,
endless amounts of cables to plug in and speakers to rearrange.
Just fucking get on with him. Man. Pig knew this
sound as good and Bear had it down right, but
these delays were infuriating. Pig Pen just wanted to plug
(16:28):
in and play, and the rest of the Dead could
care less. Bear's delays meant more time to partake in
the libations, but even the grateful Dead, who were as
herculean as anyone when it came to tripping, couldn't handle
being on stage after this particular batch of prankster's kool aid.
(16:48):
It started with Jerry two songs into the set, and
he called it quits. One by one, the other members
abandoned ship, each one descending into the crowd below. Pig
Pen stood on the stage alone. A woman in the crowd,
searching for her boyfriend, hysterically cried out, Ray, Ray, who cares?
(17:09):
And that plea could have been a mantra for the evening.
It was bizarre enough, pointing enough, just out there enough
to fit right in with the absolute mess unfolding in
the room. The pranks just took up the task, continuously
repeating the plea on the p a over and over again.
Who cares? Who cares? Who cares? Pig finished the beer
(17:29):
in his hand, and the most level headed person in
the room. These tests were supposed to be positive, enlightening, visceral, poetic,
but they're also supposed to feature live music. Things were
changing fast. The pig Pen feared they weren't changing for
the better. Something had to be done. He was too
good hearted to let these people forget why they were there.
(17:50):
Who cares? Ray? Who cares? Ray? I'll tell you who cares?
Pig Pen grabbed the microphone and stepped to the front
of the stage. These cats needed to chill the funk out.
He cleared his throat, and the muffled voices echoed off
the walls. And that woman who started it all, she
was so far past hysterical that she was becoming manic.
(18:12):
Ray Ray, Ray, Ray, I don't care, I don't care.
Pig calmly spoke into the microphone and asked the people
in the room if they felt good, if they could
locate their minds, And he spoke to the woman who
had lost her mind and her boyfriend. He reassured her
it was all good. He reassured all of them it
(18:32):
was all good. Ray would come back, baby. They all
had love, love love. The voice on the p a
rang out, who cares? Who cares? Pig chanted back in
a call and response pattern that he cared. It was
at first discorden and messy, but eventually became, against all
odds beautiful. Bill Kreutzman was inspired. He hopped on the
(18:54):
drums and gave Pig a backdrop to his rat. Pigged
through the attention in the room to him, and the
chaotic mass began to slowly flow into a calming wave
in a way that only he could. Pigs bluesy serenades
stripped back the layer of paranoia and anxiety and turned
the vibe on its head. It brought everyone back to earth,
(19:15):
put them back in touch with the present. People joined hands,
Pigpen continued to wrap, and the woman's boyfriend eventually returned.
The night was salvaged. The power of the blues was
not to be taken lightly. As dawn broke, Neil Cassidy
dumped the remaining cool aid down the storm train outside
in clear view of the police. In just over two
(19:38):
and a half years possession of LST would be illegal
in the United States. For now, who cares, just get
rid of it. This near train wreck of an acid
test was over. Pigpen couldn't help but feel that the
whole scene was coming to an end and they needed
to move on or they die. Grateful Dead played a
(20:01):
few more acid tests in LA but the shine was
off off of the tests, off of the city, off
the experience of living under Bear's roof. The last few
shows the Grateful Dead did play left much to be desired.
They couldn't seem to get a foothold in town no
matter what they tried. Bear was running out of funds.
(20:22):
Heheumantically packaged his remaining acid, just trying to get it
out of the house, and he was getting paranoid to
convinced ord be a repeat at the Berkeley Bus, Convinced
the police would break in in any second and he'd
be finished. The communal living and felt necessary to the
deaths process. But everyone agree this experiment in l A
had reached its logical conclusion. The dead needed to reset,
(20:45):
to go home and rest their bones. That suited Pigpen
just fine. The Grateful Dead found us sedate slice of
land just north of San Francisco, a fitting prototype for
the summer of love. We'll be right back after this word,
word word, pig Pens stared deeply into his singing partner's eyes.
(21:15):
He was lost in them, a wild, vibrant shade of sapphire.
Pig Pen was in a rock and roll band, so
of course he'd been with girls before, but this one
she was a woman. The two took turns belting out
blue standards, and although there were dozens of people around
them watching, it felt like they were the only two
people in the world. They continued to serenade each other
(21:39):
as they traded lines. They also traded swiggs of southern comfort.
Pig was transfixed. This woman wasn't just sharing the same
bottle with him, They shared the same essence. Pig was
losing his goddamn mind. The way her hair fell effortlessly
around her shoulders, her smile, and her voice. That voice,
(22:00):
the unmistakable voice that would go on to be one
of the most influential of all time. Rough Raspy Janis
Joplin was as real as they came. Janice had just
begun singing with big brother in the Holding Company and
in the summer of nineteen sixty six, the band and
seemingly the entire San Francisco music scene, had an open
(22:23):
invitation to the Grateful Dead's palatial estate just outside the city,
a compound of buildings surrounding a massive adobe mansion, Rancho Olmpoy,
discovered by the Dead's manager Rock Scully. Rancho alm Polly
was the timecastle up in the hills, lush green fields,
a swimming pool, a fountain that harkened back one hundred years,
(22:46):
detached from the modern world to allow the Dead to
continue their communal approach to music making, and also provided
a secluded spot for the group to do well whatever
that else they wanted to do. During the weekends, the
Grateful Dead their way into the city to gig, but
during the week everyone else made their way out to
Olempoly for a more free form version of what the
(23:06):
asset test had offered. Franksters served kool aid and rolled joints.
Neil Cassidy roaming the lawn, tossing a hammer high in
the air and catching it while simultaneously carrying on several
conversations absolute madness. More than half the participants traped around
nude music filled the air from both the musicians on
(23:27):
site and the FM radio, and the Dead set around
the radio late at night, listening to the future, their future,
devising a way to marry their approach to music with
what was happening The Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, Buddy Guy,
Electric Blues, the Common Thread. Pig Pen was just happy
that the Blues were pumping through the FM signal. The
(23:48):
dream was alive and well. It was a full year
before what would be considered the Summer Love, but life
on allmpoly predicted what was to come. It was a
commune outside of reality and alternate way of life. The
gathered residents at Alan Polly were forging a new path.
The BBC even such a team to investigate the undeniably
(24:10):
important cultural experience. They ate together, slept together, created art together,
and played music every day. A small stage and instruments
were set up just in front of the main house.
Different combinations of members from every band present floated on
and off the stage like Big Brothers. Janice Joplin and
the Deads were on pig Pen mccernan. In Pig's eyes,
(24:34):
Janice wasn't just radiant, she was a kindred spirit. Pig
and Janice were both from small towns, both knee deep
in the blues. They both felt every word they sang
in every part of their body. And as Pigpens sang
those words and stared into Janice's eyes, some chemical reaction
was taking place, something primal. The two left whatever was
(24:57):
happening between them on the Olm and Polly stage. That day,
Janis and Big Brother went back to their base camp
in nearby Lagnitis. As fate would have it, the Dead's
lease ended a few months later, and they decided to
set up shop at a day camp, also Lagnitis. The
camp was dotted with cabins and a main dining hall
where the band took meals. It was also just minutes
(25:20):
away from where Janis and Big Brother were staying. Janice
regularly traveled the dirt path between the band's two properties.
Emerging from the woods like a force of nature, she'd
head straight for the cabin Pig was bunking in. The
two would continue to trade blues on pigs Porch throughout
the day, and they could be found almost every evening
on the piano in the dining hall, entertaining to gather guests,
(25:44):
and they get cozy sip soco and saying for hours,
until they inevitably decided to head back to Pig's cabin
and entertain each other there for the rest of the evening.
Pig Pen didn't have the chance to fall him off.
He was a kind soul and romantic at hard, but
Janice wouldn't be tied down. They were ships in the
(26:04):
night many nights. Even without those long nights with Janice,
Lagnitis was a dream for pig The enchanted woodland setting
was the perfect backdrop for the dead to focus at
home their sound. The rehearsals were a shape shifting mix
of genres, as blurred as most people's minds were on
indefinite doses of bears acid. But the more Jerry took
(26:26):
the reins, the more pigs Rolls frontman diminished. Most days,
pig Pen was too drunk to notice. Increasingly. He spent
those days just soaking up sunshine, knocking back Southern comfort,
and smoking countless cigarettes while Jerry plotted the band's course.
Soon he charted the course right under the enchanted Lagnitis woods.
(26:47):
Because something was happening in the city. It was as
electrically charged as the looks Pig and Janice gave to
each other. San Francisco was quickly taking shape the Jefferson Airplane,
Quicksilver Messenger Service, Moby Grape sly in the family Stone.
Jerry was dead set on getting the Dead in the
Freaky Mix. First, the band let Bear go for now.
(27:11):
At least they were tired of sucumber some stage equipment,
and there were no hard feelings. It was just business. Besides,
Bear was focused on his own business, the LSD business.
As a parting gift, the band's dealer and cash flow
Sours bought them some new equipment, and then Bear packed
up to stuff and went back to Berkeley. Next, the
(27:31):
Dead almost completely dissolved their partnership with the Mary Praisters,
but not before one last show. The effects come on slowly.
(28:05):
At first, you feel nothing, maybe a placebo effect or
to it. It's all on your head. Ten minutes past,
and then fifteen you begin to think maybe you got
it dud, maybe it was a weak batch. Twenty minutes pass,
still nothing, and then wait, there there's something. It doesn't
(28:26):
happen all at once. It sounds like a light switch
just gets flicked on. It's a steady climb. It creeps
up your spine, and then it's not just in your head,
it's in your mind. Colors become more vivid. You wave
your hand in front of your face and watching disbelief
as a faint trail emanates from it. Your mind separates
(28:49):
itself from its bodily confines from your head. You begin
to question everything, and, depending on the amount and you've
ingested the horle and visual hallucinations, because incredibly vivid, they
feel real. You feel life as you've never felt it before. This,
of course, is the experience of a willing participant on LST,
(29:12):
a participant who, if properly briefed, understands that negative emotions
or thoughts can quickly undermine the entire experiment, and that
they should be prepared to roll with whatever waves come
their way. You know, try to stay positive, but it's
hard to stay positive when you've been unknowingly dosed. Dosing
was not an uncommon practice in the nineteen sixties, and
(29:35):
it was not uncommon amongst members of the asset tests scene.
They did call themselves pranksters, after all. So what happened
when the Grateful Dead stepped off the stage of the
San Francisco State asset tests came as no surprise. It
was inevitable. They needed a break before the second set
of the night. The first was successful, The band sounded good,
(29:55):
and they were being responsible with the acid they were
conscious of ingesting. It was happy returned to the test
scene and their first appearance at once since Los Angeles.
A six month hiatus in the woods had done the
Grateful Dead good. Things were at that point, going according
to Plant, the pig Pen was sipping on a beer
when he started to feel it, a slight tingle in
(30:17):
his legs. What's this now? The sensation grew soon it
wasn't just a tingle, and it wasn't just his legs.
Pig had him been drinking that much pattie. He sat
down and began to sweat. His heart was pounding. Pigpen
focused on his breathing, actively, working to slow it down.
After a few seconds, he started to even out. He
(30:38):
was okay. He tried to stand or was he already standing?
Did he ever sit down? The room stretched out in
front of him. The voices of everyone in the room echoed.
Everything seemed to be happening against slow motion. The Dead's manager,
Rock Scully, appeared. What was the matter. Pig Pen had
no legs, That's what was the matter. His pupils were
(31:00):
also dilated. Rock looked down to the open can of
beer and pig Pen's hands. Oh no, good God. The
next thing pig Pen knew he was being raised home.
He had been dosed, and it was anyone's guest to
who had done it. Pigpen had always had an open
bottle or can of something on stage, and the stage
was accessible to nearly anyone. Pig worried about what would
(31:23):
happen next. He didn't want the ship. He never wanted
the ship, and by the time Rock got him home,
pig was well into his trip. He began seeing shapes
in the ball, creatures moving about the house. He drove
into bed and under the covers, but kept murmuring about
what he was seeing. The anxiety shot through him. Second
stretched into days, Days became months, time became nothing. Who
(31:47):
was he? What was he? Why was he? Pig wrestled
with his own mind through the remaining hours of his trip.
While back at San Francisco State, the Asset Test was
falling into disarray. Without Pigpen to grow on the band
and remind them there around Planet Earth, things got weird,
Jerry kicked back to Pig's organ, and ken Kezi took
(32:07):
center stage. They plowed through a mad weird set, and
as Kesi stood in front of the Dead rapping to
the crowd, it slowly began to dawn on the band
members that there was a decision to make. They could
continue to be the Grateful Dead a k a. The
Acid Test House band continued to subject themselves to potential
misfires and misadventures with the Pranksters, or they could be
(32:31):
the Grateful Dead from San Francisco, their own thing. Another
test was scheduled for the end of October, on Halloween.
This would be the graduation, the culmination of the odyssey
the tests that embarked on and Kesey and the Pranksters
would go out with a bang. It was rumored they
intended to dose the entire water supply of the venue.
(32:53):
The levels of chaos had left the stratosphere. We're heading
into another universe, perhaps even a black hole. The Grateful
Dead and especially pig Pen where leary of the whole thing.
They would not play the asset Test graduation, and they
would never play another asset test at all. Four days later,
the State of California outlawed the possession of LSD as
(33:15):
if the Dead needed another sign, and they had made
their decision, all signs pointed towards being a good one
and they were no longer the house band her ken Kisi.
They were the Grateful Dead from San Francisco, and the
scene in San Francisco was about two roped. 'm Jake
(33:37):
Brennan and this is the Club. Club is hosted and
produced by me Jake Brennan for Double Elvis in partnership
(33:57):
with I Heart Radio. Seth d is the lead writer
and co producer. This episode was mixed by Joe Edinburgh.
Additional music and score elements by Ryan Spraaker and Henry Lunana.
This episode was written by Ted Omo, story and copy
ending by Pata Healy. Sources for this episode are available
at Double Elvis dot com on the twenty seven Club
(34:19):
series page, Talk to me on social at disgrace Land Pod,
and hang out with me live on a Twitch channel
disgrace Land Talks. For more news on your favorite podcast,
follow at Double Elvis on Instagram. Rocar ROLLA what up
here is
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