Memory is a funny thing. Take for instance the story about the guy climbing in the window at Friar Park in the late sixties. There were three of us there at the time, Pattie, Richard DiLello, and me. Pattie’s memory is that she went upstairs and saw the guy climbing in while Richard and I stayed downstairs. Richard’s memory is that he went upstairs and I wasn’t even there. Mine is in this book. All three of us have slightly different recollections. I would like to thank the people who helped me put together some of those gaps or uncertainties in my memory—Jack Oliver, Peter Asher, Eileen Basich, Betsy Asher, and May Pang.
Thanks to my darling friend Pattie Boyd, who has always inspired me with her joyful, openhearted approach to life, and Leon Russell for taking the time to read my book before it was finished and supporting me to tell my story, even if it was difficult for you at times.
Thank you, Astrid Lundstrom, for always being there with memories and friendship.
A special thanks to my friend Neal Preston; you have supported me and been there since the early days with your friendship, honesty, and wisdom. Thank you, Ethan Russell, Peter Blachley, Nancy Andrews, Ed Erbeck, Jim Marshall, and Shyamusundar, for your photographic contributions; and to Cynthia Keltner, Henry Diltz, and Jennifer Warnes for sending me photos which I sadly did not have room for.
Thanks so very much to Ringo, Bruce Grakal, and Apple Corps Ltd. for permission to use the On the Roof photo.
Thank you to my dear friend Hilary for always being there, for encouraging me to finish my degrees, and for letting me stay in your apartment in New York. I love you.
Thank you to Sonja Stupel and Laura Brinkerhoff, my two friends who have only known me as the person I am today and have supported me and encouraged me to follow my dreams. And a special thank you to all my clients who put up with my erratic schedule and always wanted to know how things were going “with the book.”
My family has supported me through all the stages of my life. My mom has always been the positive voice in my head, telling me anything is possible. My dad introduced me to country music, Elvis, and Jerry Lee Lewis and drove me to Los Angeles when I wanted to “run away from home.” My sister, Vicki, always loved to hear about my experiences and continuously shows me the value of “sisterhood.” I love you all, and I thank you all from the bottom of my heart.
Thank you, my darling son, William, who has brought meaning to my life. When I told him it might be hard for him to read some of the book, he said, “But, Mom, you were just a kid then. It was years ago.” And to Joshua, my stepson—who at seven years old reminds me what it’s like to be innocent and endlessly curious.
My love, my life—my husband, Morrise, has supported me through this whole project, always encouraging me to keep going, even when it was difficult for him because he had to share me with the past. One morning, when I was really down, he left me this note: “I didn’t know the girl Chris and I don’t know if we would have fallen in love. But I do know and am very much in love with the woman.” Thank you, my darling.
As have many things in my life, this book came together almost of its own accord. Throughout the years, there has always been a Circle of Women of three around me. In high school Becky, Terri, and Patty, my three closest friends; then Pattie, Maureen, and Astrid. And now the Circle of Women involved in this book.
I read Under the Influence years ago and the book impressed me so much that the name Katherine Ketcham stuck with me. When William Moyers told me that she was co-writing his memoir and that I should consider her if I ever wrote mine, I was impressed and made a mental note to myself. Two years ago, my old friend Ken Mansfield said, “Chris, you should write your book.” I emailed Kathy and she told me she was too busy. So I sent her one of my stories. She emailed to say that she was intrigued. We started working together and spent the next two years chained to our computers. She pushed, I pulled. She said, “Go deeper,” I said, “Leave me alone.” But she won and it worked. She touched my heart and I began to see my life coming alive on the pages. No words could ever express the gratitude I have for her writing, her passion, her hard work, and her friendship.
A big special thanks to her family—her husband, Pat, who so willingly and lovingly supported her through every day of the last two years, and her children Robyn, Alison, and Ben, who shared their mom with me so that I could share my story with you.
Thank you, William Moyers and Ken Mansfield, for helping to make this happen.
The circle widened when Kathy introduced me to Linda Loewenthal, her agent at the David Black Literary Agency in New York. Linda has been an inspiration throughout the planning and writing stages of this book, bringing calm and objectivity when they were most needed. Her enthusiasm, wisdom, good humor, positive attitude, and compassionate support helped us through a long and often challenging process. Linda is a writer’s dream agent and a good friend.
The completion of the circle came with Trish Todd, our supremely talented and always helpful editor who believed in this book from the beginning. She loved it just the way it was and trusted us to bring together a book of substance and interest. Her insightful suggestions and steady guidance have helped us all along the way.
Thank you to Marc Gompertz, Stacy Creamer, Chris Lloreda, Marcia Burch, and the rest of our family at Touchstone. You have been an inspiration to us with your enthusiasm and kindness. And a special thanks to Danielle Friedman, who has always had the answers.
And lastly, thanks to Kathy’s friends: Katherine Farley, her daughter Laura, Candy Cohen, and Marilyn Dickinson; and to Keith Farrington, who invited me to speak to his History of Rock and Roll Class at Whitman College. The past continues to live on in the present.