On February 3, 1959, rock and roll musicians Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and J. P. “The Big Bopper” Richardson were killed in a plane crash near Clear Lake, Iowa, together with the pilot, Roger Peterson. The event later became known as “The Day the Music Died”, after singer-songwriter Don McLean so referred to it in his song “American Pie”.
At the time, Holly and his band, consisting of Waylon Jennings, Tommy Allsup, and Carl Bunch, were playing on the “Winter Dance Party” tour across the Midwest. Rising artists Valens and Richardson had joined the tour as well.
The long journeys between venues on board the cold, uncomfortable tour buses adversely affected the performers, with cases of flu and even frostbite. After stopping at Clear Lake to perform, and frustrated by such conditions, Holly fatefully decided to charter a plane to reach their next venue in Moorhead, Minnesota. Richardson, who had flu, swapped places with Jennings, taking the latter’s seat on the plane, while Allsup lost his seat to Valens on a coin toss.
Soon after take-off, late at night and in poor, wintry weather conditions, the pilot lost control of the light aircraft, a Beechcraft Bonanza, which subsequently crashed into a cornfield, leaving no survivors.
The front door closed with a foreboding sharpness. Steve winced, lacing his fingers together. Holly grinned up at him. “So what are we gonna do, Stevie?”
It was a Saturday. A perfectly good Saturday, which he could have spent with Nancy and Jon—maybe down by the quarry or in his house, watching movies and eating too much popcorn. But what was better than quality time with Holly Wheeler?
Nothing, surely. He’d been honoured to accept the offer of babysitting. Karen and Ted Wheeler were working on their marriage, according to Nance; a weekly date had been ordered as some sort of mandatory counselling homework. Steve hated the idea of turning spending time with a person into work—you should just want to be around them, drawn together by crazy cosmic forces, or just dumb luck; happening to stumble upon one another and realise that their presence was the most perfect thing.
Steve hummed, tapping his toe and chin. “I suppose… make a gigantic fort and stuff our faces with ice cream.”
Holly squealed, clinging to his leg. “You’re my best friend!”
So a girl tweeted about luke (first picture) and he followed her and asked ‘why do you hate me’ and I fucking hope he read that because she’s so damn right and if he blocked her I’ll find him and yell at him…….
When the album [Abbey Road] was finished we were listening to a playback and Tony Hicks of the Hollies came in and joined us, hearing the LP from start to finish. He said to Paul, ‘I think this album is every bit as good as Pepper’ but Paul disagreed with him. ‘No, I don’t think it’s as good as Pepper, but I do like George’s song, I think that’s the best. “Something” is the best song George has ever written.’
EMI engineer Alan Parsons, The Complete Beatles Recording Sessions by Mark Lewisohn