How I met Jimi Hendrix by Jenell Kesler
 There is some music that doesn’t need to be commented on, less of course one just likes to hear themselves talk, or one is writing a historical journal and the records and its artist require the recognition. And such is any material by Jimi Hendrix; so rather then give you my opinion of his work I would like to relate the story of the first time I saw the man live at the Fillmore, back in the 60’s ... and yes, I still have my ticket.
I’ll admit it, I was nerdy, loved music and loved hanging around with the guys who dug the music, and those who would later in life become surgeons and space scientists. I was dating a guy who was doing a local radio show back in the day, which meant he was making enough money to starve, but he got free vinyl and had worked out a deal with Bill Graham, though Bill could never pronounce his last name, to allow him free access if he mentioned the shows being performed at the Fillmore and give each a good nod. We’d been digging the music of Jimi Hendrix and when Bill Graham had the foresight to book Jimi into the Fillmore, Jeff asked if I wanted to go. I deeply considered the offer for about a millionth of a second before I yelled ‘YA!’ Now the show was amazing, like nothing we’d expected, like nothing the world had ever seen, truly the beginning of a turning tide. But I’m not writing about that here, here I’m going to give you the after show event that has haunted us for the rest of our lives.
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