...fifty-nine years.
What an odd day it was, hm?
The day a plane took off in Clear Lake, Iowa, and crashed five minutes after,
Never reaching its destination of Moorhead, Minnesota
And taking the lives of four.
Roger Peterson, pilot --
And singers three:
Jiles Perry Richardson
Richard Steven Valenzuela
And Charles Hardin Holley.
Ritchie, J.P., my dear Buddy: we miss you.
I imagine, though, that they're all most likely up there somewhere.
Strumming their guitars, humming bits and pieces of songs, and looking down at what they've inspired.
Smiling every time someone covers their work, or listens to their songs, or visits their memorial in Clear Lake.
Watching their children, wives and siblings tell their stories.
I imagine they're all proud.
And I hope they're happy that some, if not all, remember what happened on this day.
So if you're reading, Buddy, Ritchie and J.P., hello from down here...
...and know that on the Day the Music Died, the music didn't really die, because we've kept it alive for you.
--O--
YOU ARE READING
Junk Book™
RandomBecause I really have to stop putting my tags in my Chat Room and everything else in my Conversations page.