Wednesday, February 3, 2016

The Day the Music Died

In 1959 a small airplane crashed into an Iowa field just minutes after takeoff. Aboard that plane, one of music's greatest vocalists and visionaries. A cold blizzard scuttled across the wreckage, obscuring it; the silence was deafening. Back at home, a beautiful wife carried his child, yet grief would take the child as well. He wasn't just a rocker, he was a composer. A Mozart. But most of the world saw him as a stuttering clown in black-framed glasses. Buddy Holly, RIP.




6 comments:

  1. Replies
    1. Beautiful you--you're not old at all! But what's cool is you heard all the great music as it happened. Love it!

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  2. I was eight years old, but remember it well. The day the music died.

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    Replies
    1. I've always gotten the chills thinking about it. It seems so fated.

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  3. I was in a band at school (who wasn't). We played Buddy Holly, Gene Vincent, and Eddie Cochrane. I think my preference was for Buddy Holly.

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    Replies
    1. Everyone you listed is great, but I'll agree that Holly was the best.

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