February 3, 1959. When daylight came, a slight dusting of snow had already fallen. A few miles from Iowa’s Mason City Airport, a crumpled heap of metal that was once a Beechcraft Bonanza light plane was eventually discovered resting next to a fence in the Juhl family’s farm field.
The bodies of Buddy Holly and Ritchie (Valenzuela) Valens were found near the fuselage, along with J.P. “Big Bopper” Richardson, who had been flung some 40 feet away. Roger Peterson, the young pilot, was located within the wreckage. The four young men were headed to Moorhead, MN for the next stop on the 24-date Winter Dance Party.
News spread quickly, with some media outlets treating the report offhandedly. The viewpoint of music being dangerous to social norms or mores was furthered by parents and government officials. Now, a potential death knell for rock and roll was present.
“The innovators of the music were gone, when you put it into context,” said Sevan Garabedian, who is researching the tour. “Elvis Presley was already in the Armed Services, Little Richard had turned his back on the music for the ministry, Chuck Berry was in jail over the Mann Act, Carl Perkins never fully recovered from a car accident, and Jerry Lee Lewis was out of favor for marrying his 13-year old cousin.
“Then comes the plane crash,” he said. “Other artists stepped into the gap, but they weren’t dangerous to social norms … the Sinatras, the Perry Comos, Frankie Avalons, they came back into prominence.”
There is still a morbid fascination about the crash. Reasons, conjectures and stories of cruel financial necessities have circulated, as have the photographs of the crash site, for decades. Despite the ill-fated backdrop, there were beautiful shining musical moments at Kenosha, Eau Claire, Green Bay, places in Iowa and Minnesota (including Duluth, attended by a young Bob Dylan) … and the tour opener, Milwaukee.
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George Devine’s Million Dollar Ballroom
Atop the Eagle’s Club (2401 W. Wisconsin Ave.), the magnificent ballroom had played host to the 1940s big bands, with an ornate colonnade, surrounding a sparkling recessed ceiling, illuminated by lights reflecting colors onto the dance floor. Cupolas bowed out along the second level for viewing.
Sidling up on January 23, 1959, came the “Winter Dance Party” bus. “They had come in from Chicago, where they all congregated the day before, for rehearsals,” said Garabedian. “It arrived about an hour late, I’m told. These were days with no tight security, like now, so it wasn’t a mob scene. The Milwaukee Journal estimated 6,000 people attended the show that evening.”
Attending the show was 16-year-old Donna Fischer Doffing, and her memories still provide a fresh and unique window into that evening, still fun, 64 years later.
“Ritchie Valens had been singing the song ‘Donna,’ and it was playing on Milwaukee radio,” said Doffing. “It was part of the Channel 6 (WITI) Dance Party, a local version of American Bandstand. Because of that song, and being on TV, and hearing he would be coming to town … I don’t remember if I asked my parents, but my brother went with me, he was two years older than me.”
They took two buses to get to the Eagles Club. “We got there early, my mother gave me a red and white valentine heart, and I glued it to the back of my purse. It said, ‘Donna,’ and you could flip it up or down, if I wanted to be noticed. Someone would say my name, and I would always act surprised. I was 16.”
She was walking inside the Million Dollar Ballroom “and then, it just so happened that Ritchie Valens walked past, unrecognized, and he saw my purse, and said ‘Donna.’ We talked,” she recalled, “and I realized it was Ritchie. I told him the song, ‘Donna,’ was very popular in Milwaukee because I was calling the stations all the time.
Valens invited her into a larger room, where musicians waited before coming on stage. “I gave my camera to someone to take our picture,” she continued. “People had cameras back then, but it was only used for special occasions, for Christmas, Easter … there were two photos left. My Mom let me have the camera for the two photos. ‘I want to take the roll to Walgreen’s to get it developed.’ That was the photo of both of us, and him playing.
“Folks in Milwaukee, like the high-uppers thought rock and roll was music of the devil, people didn’t want to promote the type of music. My parents loved to dance, if it had a good beat, big bands … Wayne King. So, they weren’t against any music really, it was always in the house, (they) never felt it was bad.”
After leaving the backstage, “we wanted to get right up in front, and the show started. People were pushing me into this fence barrier, I got scared. Hey, I’m 80 now—I survived.
“I was waving at Ritchie. Backstage, he was so conscientious, very much of a gentleman, and I thought he was older than me. Come to find out later, he was only one year older. The audience was very receptive and singing the songs. It was a real experience to be in a place where these songs on the radio were being played live.
“I was always going to the shows with group pairings, and my brother, Ron. We had to take buses to go home. I can’t tell you how wonderful it was, our Mother trusted us to do that. The show was over by 10 p.m., two kids riding the buses. Can’t do that now.”
Changing Landscape
It took five years for the musical landscape to change, with the arrival of The Beatles and the rest of the 1964 British Invasion. They played American music by the innovators with a healthy dose of blues, Chuck Berry, and … Buddy Holly. Rock and roll survived too.
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In the now-gone Uptown Theater, Bruce Springsteen and The E Street Band played the infamous “Bomb Scare” show on October 2, 1975. Almost an hour into their set, the emcee, Bob Reitman, announced there was a threat of a bomb and to evacuate the theater. The band promptly went across the street to a bar. According to the drummer, Max Weinberg, what followed, after being allowed back to the theater, was two hours of “well-oiled” versions of songs, some that went on for 20 minutes.
Reitman gave an interview about being backstage, before the show. “There was Springsteen, in what he was going to wear that night, with a guitar. Playing, but it wasn’t amped. I looked and said, ‘Hey, how you doing?’ He was friendly, and I was asked what he was doing. He said, ‘Playing Buddy Holly. It keeps me honest before the show.’
“I fell in love with him,” Reitman said. “I didn’t mean that he was going to be a great performer. It meant he loved rock and roll. Anyway, that impressed me.”
Garabedian is a Holly historian and researcher of the final tour, actively seeking new information. “There is so much hard information out there, which has never been documented. In Milwaukee, they stayed at the Ambassador Hotel. The tour drummer, Carl Bunch, indicated that they arrived about an hour late. There were no heating problems on the bus yet, a relatively smooth start for this tour. Milwaukee was good.
“I would love to speak with anyone that attended the Milwaukee show, or knows someone that did,” he said. “I am offering a reward for any photographs or autographs from that night.”
He can be contacted at sevan1@sympatico.ca or cell: 1-514-970-1959, and landline: 1-514-931-6959.
“Isn’t it interesting, that ‘Rave On’ was one of Buddy Holly’s most popular songs,” he added. “And what’s the name of the Million Dollar Ballroom now? The Rave!”