Although there is some ambiguity as to the exact number of concerts the Grateful Dead played over the course of their 30-year history, it is well accepted that the figure is north of 2300. Of those, less than one-percent took place at the stroke of midnight on December 31 (22 to be precise). Statistics aside, the band’s New Year’s shows were nothing less than the stuff of legend.

Some Grateful Dead lyrics are easy to interpret. Perhaps the most classic example is from the song, Truckin’: “Sometimes the light’s all shining on me. Other times I can barely see.” It’s easy to identify with the universal human experience of going through times in our lives when everything is working, the path ahead clearly lit, followed by periods of confusion or frustration, the future dark and obscured. Simple. Straightforward.

The year was 1970, my junior year of high school at Loara High School in Anaheim, California. It was the day of the All Western Band Review, the biggest, most significant high school marching band competition in the state. We had been working towards this moment for months, since the summer when band practice began a full three weeks before the first day of school.