CRIMSON WHITE AND INDIGO

It was a hot fucking day in July.  We were young and gloriously naïve.  The Grateful Dead were set to pack JFK for a jubilant celebration.  Shakedown Street was shaking as all the Deadheads shopped for tie dyed t-shirts and kind grilled cheese sandwiches.  JFK was an old decaying stadium and one could envision gladiators in leather helmets goingContinue reading “CRIMSON WHITE AND INDIGO”