Friday Night, August 19, 2011, Whiskey A Go-Go, Sunset Blvd., West Hollywood, CA.
Jim Morrison died on July 3rd, 1971. Like many teenagers of that time, I said out loud that I would NEVER go to Whisky A Go-Go because they fired Jim & his group "The Doors" on August 19, 1966. My dear friend, the late actor Jeff Conaway, had always told me wonderful, amazing, detailed stories about his brief friendship with Jim Morrison and the times they went out on the town together. Fast forward from 1966 to 45 years later in 2011.
As soon as I heard that Ray Manzarek & Robby Krieger would be the headline act on the 45 year plus 1 day Anniversary of their firing by Phil Tanzini at Whisky A Go-Go, I caved in and bought a ticket. For ME to say I the sentence "I saw The Doors play at Whisky A Go-Go" is something I never thought would be possible, especially after Jim's death in 1971. This might be a chance to step back into that time again. This would be Hollywood Charity for the soul of all of Hollywood.
There were two warm up bands before "The Doors," the first being "Zen Rizing." What a fantastic group of young, raw talent: Scott, Steve-O, Cody & Buddy. They are headed for super stardom. I was introduced to each of them after the show and got to see what great personalities they have both on AND off-stage.
Before "The Doors" began, police cars and fire trucks were blocking the entrance to Whisky A Go-Go. A man was brought out on a stretcher after they had performed CPR. Rumor had it, he died. This can not be confirmed. Yet what can be confirmed is that a steady stream of fainting people continued out the door, covered in sweat, each being passed through the crowd and out the door during the entire evening.
As I entered through the doorway, there was no where to go. I had to somehow get in. I belonged inside there with ALL the chaos. After all, that 1966-1971 chaos is still alive in my brain and now it's right in front of my eyes. The people were so crowded in, way over capacity, all you could do was push, push, push. The heat in the room felt like 130 degrees and it was hard to breathe, as if no oxygen existed. This was my first time inside Whisky A Go-Go and I was lost. I couldn't see anything, other than bodies in front of me. The music drew me in. At no point could I even see Ray, Robby or anyone on stage from the ground floor. A thin, black man in blue jeans was being passed beside me, beads of sweat covering every inch of his face. His eyes stared into mine, as if to say "Get Out Of Here, Now." No. I would try to survive this, as would everyone in the room. So I made my way straight back from the front door and then made a right turn to go up a staircase.
Up on the second level, there was still no where to go. People everywhere. So I slithered through to a balcony that faced the band down below. I wasn't on my hands and knees but I was, literally, crawling flat against the carpet fibers and over other bodies. Since people couldn't fit upright, they began to stack themselves on top of each other horizontally. This was madness. Coupled with the sounds of "The Doors" songs, I felt 40 years of my life was being sucked out of me with a syringe. The sound of Walter Cronkite's voice on the TV announcing that days death count of our troops from Vietnam, the click of Mickey Mantle's bat hitting another home run, the boys in my neighborhood are dying as fast as they arrive to Vietnam, Woodstock and the Summer of Love are in full swing. This flood of memories is hitting me from all sides, sensory over load. My head pears down from between the legs dozens of people on the balcony, when I catch my first good glimpse of Ray Manzarek. He is wearing a black T-Shirt with the name "RAY" in blue metallic letters. He is addressing the audience, telling everyone how their band got fired in 1966 by Whisky A Go-Go's Phil Tanzini for Jim Morrison saying, "Father, I want to kill you, Mother I want to fuck you" during their song "The End." Ray continued speaking saying Robby said to Phil in 1966, "Well it was Jim that said that, we didn't. Plus, you can't fire all of us, it's Thursday and we still have sold out shows for Friday and Saturday." Ray continued saying, "Phil then told us that we could play for Friday and Saturday, but that we'd never play at Whisky A Go-Go again after that (in 1966)." Case closed, "The End," no pun intended. Really? Well Ray and Robby still have an axe to grind with Phil Tanzini and on this night, August 19th, 2011, they are grinding it full steam with sparks flying in every direction at the very location they were told they would never play again at.
Ray Manzarek announces to this audience, "No One Gets Out Alive," a title of Jim Morrison's biography and that feels all too true as the passed out bodies are continuously being handed over the mosh pit of the gound floor. I manage to take one cell phone photo of Ray playing on the keyboards, but a security man from the stage below notices my camera flash & quickly shines a high powered flash light toward my location on the balcony. As if slithering through the jungle in Vietnam, I weave away from that location through a sea of human legs, people fainting on top of me, trying to free my trapped limbs to get to another location on the floor or on top of someone. Every song they play throws this predominately aged crowd into a tailspin, even "The Changeling." Robby Krieger in his shiny, metallic sneakers is on FIRE, playing better than I've even seen Eric Clapton play live. Ray Manzarek announces that, "Robby could go on playing all night long!" I envisioned a ghost of Jim Morrison walking up to Robby on stage and saying, "Well look at you go Man!" Perhaps Jim's early death pushed Ray and Robby to become even better than when Jim was alive. They have been the frontmen of "The Doors" since July 3rd, 1971 and it shows.
Their rendition of the song "LA Woman" pushed my soul over the edge. It began with Robby Krieger making his guitar sound like that engine revving up at the beginning of the song. How did he do that? It sounds just like an automotive or motorcycle engine but from a guitar. Unbelievable. The crowd is responding as if this is something stronger than a devotion to religion or science. We are all entranced, we are all one, this is our generation and we have all come together within the confines of these walls of Whisky A Go-Go. This concert is about so much more than the music. The audience has it's own axe to grind with society. I am a grown woman, crawling on a floor trying to make sense of all that I so clearly remember about the 1960's. Any one who wasn't there in the 1960's as I was, listening to "The Doors" songs on a crackling AM Transistor Radio will not fully understand this devotion or connection. Yet I see Ray & Robby with my own eyes with their gray and white hair, so it feels like I'm in a black & white episode of "The Twilight Zone."
Thank you to "The Doors" for making us all part of your world, whether for one night or a lifetime. Thank you for fighting the good fight, whether against Phil's Whisky A Go-Go or the horror of losing your band-mate way too soon. Maybe Shakespeare said it best, "If music be the food of love, play on." Thanks for keeping "The Doors" always open to give Hollywood Charity to the spirit of everyone. Ray Manzarek, Robby Krieger and Jim Morrison are all heroes and it has been a privilege for Helen Darras to collide with the 3 of you in less than 8 months, from Pere Lachaise Cemetary in Paris, France to the Sunset Strip in West Hollywood, CA (see attached slideshow photos).
An addition to my story via Ida Miller, another fan who was amongst us this night. Her story arrived tonight in my email:
Hello Ms. Darras ...
My friend and I were right in line behind the poor fellow who collapsed and died on Friday night outside the Whisky. We had been chatting with him and his wife for about 90 minutes before that happened. I got your Examiner story in a keyword search and shared that link on my own website, which is dedicated to news about The Doors. In case you would like to update your story for the sake of accuracy, I can tell you that ...
>> yes, he DID die. Confirmed, sadly. My friend and I learned that from a security person inside the club later ... but then after the show we ran into the still-shocked widow. She had returned to the Whisky after her husband's body was sent to the morgue. Like I said ... she was in shock. Their car was parked in the area, which she had to retrieve.
>> He collapsed outside on the sidewalk after we got our will-call tickets. We had then moved into a second line, where we were waiting to be allowed inside the club.
>> All CPR and other life-saving efforts occurred on the sidewalk outside the Whisky entrance.
Needless to say, it was a somber and sobering event to witness. I wrote about it on my own website following my account of the show:...Beverly and I arrived early and were second in line behind one other couple. The guy began talking to me, as he recognized me from standing shoulder-to-shoulder at another concert. We all quickly figured out that it was at a STP show in February. It was memorable for all of us because of some funny things that happened to & with this guy during that show. We shared some laughs over that recollection. Small world! And here we were again, where we would surely be shoulder-to-shoulder at the front barrier at thisshow. After the will-call ticket distribution started and we moved into a second line for entry line-up, he made a fast trip to take the forbidden camera back to his car. Minutes after he returned to the line ahead of us, he collapsed onto the table where the will-call tickets were, then dropped onto the sidewalk. A doctor in the crowd and several others administered CPR until the EMT's arrived. We learned later that evening that he died in the ambulance. Unbelievable! We think his name was Jason. R.I.P., Jason.
Cordially,
Ida Miller
Thank you so very much for your email Ida. You will ALWAYS be known as one of several angels who walked him "half way back home" that night, by joyfully sharing his final life moments with him. He was not alone, but among common friends. It's been 72 hours since that show & I'm still reflecting on everything that happened, including hugs & kisses I got from strangers that night who shared in our frenzy of simultaneous terror & utter joy. It is VERY hard to express in words, but I thank you for your consideration to email me your facts. My view was only of the 2nd line when they shoved everyone aside off of Sunset Blvd. & up onto Clark. I was across the street, standing on Clark street, alone. Perhaps you may have unknowingly even seen me, Helen Darras.
