Photo by Milwaukee World Festival, Inc. via Wisconsin Historical Society
Summerfest 1982
Bird's-eye view of the Summerfest grounds with the Miller Jazz Oasis and Miller Cafe are in the foreground (1982).
After a certain age, our lives may best be described by the glimmers of joy shining through the mists of time. For many Milwaukee music lovers, myself included, an inordinate number of those glimmers come from years of attending concerts at Summerfest.
Founded in 1968 by Mayor Henry Maier, Summerfest was first conceived as Milwaukee’s version of Munich’s Oktoberfest, but it has evolved into so much more. Originally sited at different venues around town, it didn’t take long for organizers to focus on a 75-acre former Nike missile site on Milwaukee’s lakefront for its permanent home. Since then, the event has grown exponentially, helping establish what once was considered a Midwestern musical backwater into a major concert destination.
Early acts included comedians Bob Hope and Georgie Jessel, and musical acts Dolly Parton and Up With People, a feel-good chorus of well-dressed young people who sang happy songs that posed no threat to the Establishment. But the ‘70s were creeping in, and things began to change.
Riot Going On
In 1970, the late arrival of mainstage act Sly and the Family Stone almost caused a riot among fans. The full-blown riot came in 1973 during a concert by British blues rockers Humble Pie and JoJo Gunne, which led to a bonfire and about 300 arrests. I wasn’t able to attend either concert due to prior obligations and I regretted missing them both.
In 1972, of course, comedian George Carlin, opening for musician Arlo Guthrie, was arrested for violating obscenity laws by performing his “Seven Words You Can Never Say on Television” routine. (Milwaukee is as Milwaukee does.) Unfortunately, I missed him, too.
But the moments I do remember centered around personal experiences and the chance to see performers from around the world in a city many of them probably thought they would never play. And initially under conditions that, by any stretch of the imagination, made many campgrounds look palatial.
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Memorable Music Nights
In 1972, with a group of friends sitting on a blanket with a cooler of wine in front of us (BYOB in those days) we saw a single bill that featured Flo & Eddie (formerly of The Turtles and the Mothers of Invention); Dr. John, “The Night Tripper”; guitarist Mahavishnu John McLaughlin; Quicksilver Messenger Service; and The Doors (sans Jim Morrsion, who had died the previous year.) Musically speaking, it was a diverse and memorable night.
On an early date with my now-wife Jean, we went to Summerfest to see B.B. King. She was dressed in white bellbottoms, sandals and a brightly colored top and we both ended up trudging through mud to get to our seats. (She still agreed to marry me. Must have been the music.)
There were also concerts by Chicago, Procol Harum and Rotary Connection. I met singer/songwriter Harry Chapin stage-side at the former Miller Jazz Oasis, then saw him once again as a Main Stage act the next year. Sha Na Na got us all on feet and dancing. The crowd for Jackson Browne was so large that we sat through his sound check to make sure we still had seats for his performance.
More recently we saw Tina Turner and had second row center seats for the Moody Blues with the Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra. We watched a reunited Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young hit every note, saw Wille Nelson open for the Grateful Dead (that’s Dead & Co. for you diehard Deadheads), experienced Joe Cocker’s soulfulness in one of his final performances, and watched Elvis Costello pump it up on a side stage, only to return the next year to open for The Police. And, as they say, the beat goes on.
Different World?
It’s a different musical world now, a different audience with, in some cases, radically different musical tastes. But the opportunity is still there to showcase global acts in a wonderful setting close to home. My last Summerfest performance was in 2016 at the BMO Harris Pavilion watching the last two living members of The Highwaymen—Willie Nelson and a struggling Kris Kristofferson, who died in 2024—revisit all the songs that made them great. I think it was a fitting close to what turned out to be the single greatest source of musical education and entertainment in my life.
Thank you, Summerfest.
