THERE WERE TWO SHOWS THAT NIGHT. I WAS AT THE LATE SHOW. IT started either at 11:30 p.m. or at midnight—the current fog in my brain is nothing like the fog that was in my brain that night. Without going into detail, I have to say it was one of the most incredible concerts I’ve ever attended. I had arranged to interview the Grateful Dead back at their hotel after the show. I didn’t ingest any psychedelics that night; I may have been the only person at the Fillmore who didn’t dose that night. I wanted to be fresh for the interview. Walking out into the sunlight after an all-night show was a new experience for me.
To quote from Grateful Dead bass player Phil Lesh, “It’s daylight, and snow is falling gently on the streets of New York . . . we stand there, our breath steaming, and look east down the crosstown side street. A distended orange sun is rising between the buildings, casting lurid shadows on the fresh snow. I grab Bob and Jerry in a group embrace: this is what it’s all about.”
When I arrived at the hotel room, Jerry Garcia and some others were sitting around a coffee table. I felt welcome when I entered the room. I was offered a seat and ended up sitting with the coffee table in front of me and Garcia sitting on my right. I had three years of weekly interviews behind me, so I wasn’t nervous. However, I wasn’t certain who all the people in the room were except for band members. I felt that before I pulled out my notepad and began asking questions, maybe some small talk was needed as an “icebreaker.” As I was chatting with the band, I noticed that a fairly large joint had been lit and was being passed around the table. When I saw that, I remembered that I had a small pad of “flash paper” in my pocket. (Flash paper, or nitro-cellulose, is tissue treated with nitric acid so that it will burn instantly with no smoke or ash when touched to a flame. Flash paper is used for creating theatrical special effects and is also employed by magicians.) I had discovered flash paper when I was thirteen. I saw it used at Al’s Magic Shop in D.C. and knew I had to have some. Igniting a piece in one’s hand sent a small ball of flame up but didn’t burn your hand or leave any ash behind.
When Garcia passed me the joint, I dropped ash from the lit end into my hand, where I had a piece of flash paper balled up. A flame shot out of my hand, and before anyone uttered a word (although I think I heard a few “wows” uttered in the room), Garcia picked up a bottle of wine that was on the coffee table and doused my hand with wine, thinking my hand was really on fire. I quickly explained what I had done, and there was “stoned” laughter in the room.
I never pulled out my notepad to do the interview. Garcia wanted to know about flash paper. I explained that it came in all sizes. I told him that illegal bookies often kept notes of bets placed on sheets of flash paper. They would usually have a lit cigar in an ashtray in their office. If police raided the office, the bookie would simply open his desk drawer and flick the cigar ash onto his flash paper betting sheets—a ball of flame, no residue, and no proof of illegal activity. I explained that any big-city magic shop could fill the group in on using flash paper or flash pots. (Basically, a flash pot is a sturdy container that can hold a pyrotechnic powder and is usually wired to fire an igniter. The powder can be standard flash powder, colored flash powder, smoke powder, or flame powder.)
I don’t know if I was the impetus for the Dead using “flash pyrotechnics” onstage, but thinking back on that night puts a big smile on my face.