San Francisco, Where It All Began: Our Love Will Not Fade Away
I first “got on the bus” back in 1985 at Hershey Park, and by the time Jerry passed in 1995, I’d stopped counting somewhere after 200 shows. The music has been part of my DNA for decades. In 2015, Joe and I made it to Chicago for the 50th Anniversary Fare Thee Well Tour, three unforgettable nights at Soldier Field. Chicago gave us some great memories, but San Francisco… that’s where it all began. So it felt perfectly fitting that, after another decade of music, the 60th Anniversary celebrations were set right back in their birthplace.
Walking the streets, you can still feel the echoes of the late ’60s woven into the city’s heartbeat. That wild, turbulent time in America’s history shaped San Francisco, and you can sense it in its energy even now. It’s like the city still hums with the pulse of everything the music stood for.
This weekend wasn’t about reliving the past, it was about celebrating 60 years of the songs, the band’s journey, and the Dead Head community that continues to keep the spirit alive. If there’s a band that captures the adventurous, fun-loving spirit of America, I honestly believe it’s The Grateful Dead.
Friday Night — Wrapped in Fog and Music
Friday night opened with Billy Strings, a bluegrass virtuoso whose roots run deep but whose music refuses to be confined by any single genre. The Grateful Dead’s music has long drawn from bluegrass traditions, and in turn, Billy has clearly been influenced not just by that lineage but also by rock, psychedelia, country and pure imagination. At just 32, he plays with a depth and maturity far beyond his years.
His unique singing voice has this soulful, midrange tone that lands straight in my heart and lingers in my soul. His musical stylings move me deeply. Billy is humble, as authentic a human as one can be. He seemed genuinely grateful to be there, sharing his unique sound with this community. Billy’s style has become part of what many now call “jamgrass,” a new, evolving genre inluenced from the Grateful Dead’s improvisational spirit. Having him there felt so right; he represents the future of jam-band music while carrying forward the roots of those who came before him.
As the daylight faded and Dead & Company took the stage for their second set, the chill in the air became just another part of the experience, folding into the magic of the night. The fog rolled in thick over Golden Gate Park’s Polo Field, wrapping the crowd in a damp, silvery haze. Under the stage lights, the mist looked almost like tiny snow flurries drifting through the air, or, maybe that was just the psychedelia talking ;) The temperature hovered in the mid‑50s, and the humidity made the chill sink straight into your bones. On any other night, it might have been uncomfortable enough to leave early. But not here. Not now. The music dissolved everything else, the cold, the damp, even time itself. No one cared. We were exactly where we wanted to be: surrounded by our favorite band, our people, and a love for the music that has carried us for decades.
Saturday Night — Johnny Blue Skies
Saturday night opened with Sturgill Simpson, performing under his new band name, Johnny Blue Skies. His sound was best described as part psychedelic outlaw country, part pure rock ‘n’ roll. There’s something about his voice, again that rich midrange tone, that cuts straight to the heart.
I’d seen Sturgill perform with Dead & Company a couple of years ago at the Dead Ahead Festival in Mexico and absolutely fell in love with his voice then. But this set felt different, much edgier. Playing with his own band, he leaned fully into his own sound, and you could feel how much he loved being up there.
Sunday Night — Trey Standing on the Moon
Sunday night opened with Trey Anastasio’s Band, bringing a looser, funkier, and more playful vibe than his work with Phish. I’ve never fully resonated with Phish, though I completely respect their musical brilliance. Trey’s solo band, though, hits differently- soulful, groovier, almost like the way the Jerry Garcia Band had its own distinct vibe apart from the Dead. His set was a lot of fun, and I was especially moved by his rendition of Mission in the Rain.
By the third night, the fog that had blanketed the Polo Field each previous night finally lifted, revealing a clearer sky and a bright, steady moon that seemed to stay with us from day into night. During the second set, when Dead & Company played Standing on the Moon, the moment moved the entire crowd similarly. There’s a line in the song, “A lovely view of heaven, but I’d rather be with you”, that always tugs at the heart, always deepening the reminder of how much Jerry’s voice is missed.
Honoring the Legacy
There will always be debates among Deadheads, especially online, the arguments that the Dead was over in 1995 when Jerry died, or that it’s all ‘just a money grab” these days. But to me, they’re missing the bigger picture. The music has never been only about who’s playing it; it’s about the love, the community, and the connection it creates between us. Jerry wouldn’t have wanted his music to die with him. These critics are missing the point and forgetting Jerry’s own words;
“If I work as hard as I can in my life, I may be able to end up building this thing that nobody can tear down after I’m dead.”
— Jerry Garcia, 1988
Looking around Golden Gate Park at tens of thousands of happy fans, I couldn’t help but think how much it would’ve meant to Jerry to see this, his music still alive, the community thriving, and the songs carrying on exactly as he hoped.
Between sets and during intermissions, video clips of former members played, sharing their reflections, sentiments on the times, various relevant topics, and the journey they’d been on. It was a quiet thread tying together six decades of members and music.
Over the past ten years, John Mayer has become an integral part of Dead & Company, and you can feel how deeply he connects with the music. He isn’t trying to be Jerry Garcia or recreate every note; he brings his own distinct style and voice to the songs. You see it in his playful exchanges with the crowd, his joyful chemistry with Jeff Chimenti on the keyboards, and the way he truly listens as the band weaves each moment together. Fans often say, “John is Dead to me,” and it’s meant with affection. There’s no doubt that he gets it. John has said himself that this body of music has transformed him as a musician, and he treats it with reverence, passion, and gratitude. And frankly, if Bob Weir chooses him to play with, that’s good enough for me.
And let’s not forget Oteil Burbridge on bass. A veteran of the Allman Brothers Band, Oteil brings so much heart, soul, and sheer joy to the stage. Watching him, you can feel how much fun he’s having. His energy grounds the band with his rich deep bass, while lifting the entire crowd right along with him.
Sprinkled throughout the weekend were a few unexpected treats: like when Grahame Lesh, son of the Grateful Dead’s bassist Phil Lesh, was invited to step on stage each night. Grahame joined Dead & Company to play “Box of Rain,” one of his father’s original songs and a cornerstone of the Dead’s legacy. Phil Lesh, a founding member, passed away in October 2024. Having Graham up there, seemed a special honoring to Phil. Having Grahame up there carrying that tune forward felt like a quiet passing of the torch.
As the final notes faded, the whole band gathered at the front of the stage to take their traditional bow. Then, in an unspoken act of respect, John Mayer quietly stepped back and gestured for the others to do the same, leaving only Bob Weir and Mickey Hart (two of the last three surviving original members) standing in the spotlight. The crowd stood a bit taller, participating in a moment of respect and awe, fully aware of the history on that stage. It was a powerful, deeply moving moment, honoring six decades of music and the musicians who give everything of themselves every time they step on stage.
Closing Reflection
The simple but profound knowledge conveyed by Garcia and Hunter: “Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world” is our lyrical reminder that in life, you get what you expect.
I came to San Francisco for this three show run, expecting the music, love, and community that truly helped shape the person I’ve become. Through all the changes and decades, the music has been our constant, an anchor that holds us steady and connects us to one another. The spiritually sound nuances contained in so many of the songs, reminding us, to take our fellow man by the hand, try to help him to understand, we’re all in this together.
I was deeply grounded beyond words by the entire experience that special weekend, and forever grateful for my Dead family. Sixty thousand of us came together each night, sharing in something bigger than ourselves, carried by the songs that have been the soundtrack of our lives.
And while time moves on and nothing ever stays the same, the love we share for this music and for each other will not fade away.
Stay Kind,
Dawn
