On November 5th, 1973, James took me to my first concert to celebrate becoming my official guardian.When my dad left, I still had his last name, which confused people when my mother’s and mine didn’t match.She was a Hartley, and I was a Roberts.I didn’t feel like I was a Roberts at all.My dad had no idea who I was or when my birthday was, and James knew every little detail about me.I was transported to heaven when he presented the idea of adopting me.My spirit was as light as a feather.He also wanted to adopt my sister, Breanna, but didn’t because she chose not to.She was also almost eighteen, so adopting her wouldn’t have done anything to change her life like it would mine.
We went to the courthouse to provide all the proper documentation of my mom and his marriage, as well as my birth certificate.The clerk told us the only way James could adopt me was if my dad signed away all legal rights for me.I was devastated because I thought that my dad lived thousands of miles away and was uncontactable.The clerk gave us the paper to send him anyway, and we went home.
A few days later, my momma presented me with the document.My dad’s precise signature was on a dotted line at the bottom of the page.I was too afraid to ask how she got his signature so promptly.If he was living in Butterfield, wouldn’t my momma tell me?I didn’t understand why he didn’t want to be a part of my life.He left our family and abandoned me.However, it didn’t matter because it meant James would become my father legally.James raised me and was my father before any paperwork was signed, but then it became official.
James bought us tickets to see The Who live in concert to celebrate our new legally bonding family.He wanted my first concert to be Jesse Young and The Matches, but their tours tended to skip over Butterfield.The Who recently released the double album “Quadrophenia,” a rock opera following an intense and fun story.The Who was the closest concert we could attend, and they were a band we liked, so we thought it was better than nothing.Listening to the opera on vinyl was one thing, but hearing it in person was transformative.
The concert house was the most enormous room I had ever entered.Hundreds of fans were already pushed against the front of the stage, expecting Roger Daltrey’s curly blond hair and Keith Moon’s sweat-drenched face as he raised his drumsticks.
Women wore skimpy clothing, and men dressed like the band.James was dressed in his usual attire: cowboy boots, a flannel button-up long-sleeve shirt, and baggy jeans.My momma wanted to stay home with my sister, so only James and I attended the concert.My momma and sister helped me pick a new shirt the previous week.It had strange cutouts on the front and was short-sleeved.
James stood tall, towering over me, grabbing my hand, and guiding me through the crowd.Feet and trash covered the floor.The crowded nature of concerts intimidated me, but I was there for the music, so I stood my ground.Bodies pushed past me, trying to get closer and closer to the action, making me raise my shoulders to look more developed and robust than I was.
James shoved us into the middle section of the pit.He held my arm and told me not to let go because he didn’t want to be separated during the show.The room was so loud I couldn’t hear myself think.People were talking, dancing, drinking, smoking, and kissing.The lights dimmed, and I stood on my tippy toes, trying to see over the tall man before me.There should be some sort of concert etiquette where tall people stayed toward the back.People were selfish and wanted to have the best view.James pulled me in and had me get on his shoulders.I looked around, seeing the tops of people’s heads instead of the back of their calves.Large spotlights were faced toward separate parts of the stage.Anticipation filled the room.
Roger Daltrey came onto the stage wearing flared jeans and an open shirt.His chest aimed toward his screaming fans, inviting them to look at his body for the rest of the night.The remaining band members came onto the stage, and James yelled at me, “You can scream too!”
I restrained.Screaming at the top of my lungs was strange and untraditional, so I opened my mouth and squeaked.It was not a full-blown scream, but it was a start.My screams got louder, deeper, and more pronounced throughout the concert.James rooted me on and yelled with me.Our voices blended in with the others in the room.I could yell the lyrics, and no one would hear my individual voice because everyone else was singing along, too.
The walls vibrated and shook to the rhythm.I could feel the beat in every inch of my body.Lights flashed, fog smeared over us, and James was shoved.Nasty-smelling beer spilled on him, yet he kept his legs buckled to the floor.He wanted me to have a good time, and I did.I had the best seat in the house.I was a part of a family and something bigger.
Being a fan was not just supporting a band or artists because you liked them.It was a community.It was a way of life.One girl who swept past us told us it was her fifth Who concert that month.You had to have a passion to follow something so devoutly.After that concert, I knew I wanted to be a part of the music community.It gave meaning to my life.I think James felt the same way.He couldn’t shake the smile off his face, even days later.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Stage Fright
Song: Let It Be—TheBeatles
August 1st, 1975
The day of the benefit concert finally arrived.Momma cut my hair for it.It was time for a change, so I decided on bangs like hers.Curly wisps of my blonde hair shot up, covering my forehead.I liked the way they dangled down like a show curtain.I got my peach necklace out of my jewelry box and clasped it at the front of my chest, moving the peach locket to the front.I didn’t have to open the locket to know that my family and James remained inside, untouched and still alive.Momma dropped me off at the field the band rented for the event.
I looked for potential in the tall, swaying yellow grass field.Darren had alerted me that a crew would appear soon to put up a stage for the concert.Jesse Young and The Matches would rest at their motel until later, leaving Darren and me alone.I wondered how his dad reacted when he asked if he could run off with a famous rock n’ roll band to see me and drum in a concert.
Darren’s face displayed much more maturity than even at the beginning of the summer.He was ready for commitment and responsibilities, and so was I.
