That Night at Gruene Hall

My favorite memory of JJW was at Gruene Hall one summer while in college. Me and several college friends made the trip from Waco every September while we were in college. We’d spend the afternoon tooling around Gruene while we waited for the Hall to open up for the show around 7. Our crew always ate dinner at the Gristmill around 5p, and we always landed in rows 5–8. Not bad, but we could never get up front with the crazy fans, the Tried and True.

Gruene Hall was open for drinks until the staff cleared everyone out around 5p. Once the staff cleared the space, everyone queued up outside for about 2 hours, waiting for the Hall to reopen for the show. Seats were first come first serve; the front of the line meant you’d get the best seats.

One year we hung out in the bar before it closed and before dinner. At some point, I headed to the rest room behind the stage. When I finished up at the trough, I returned to an empty Gruene Hall. It was silent, dead empty. My friends were gone, I was all alone inside after security had cleared it out. I remember texting my friends, from my Nokia brick, that I would miss dinner and that I’d try to get some good seats.

For the first 30 minutes, it was dead silent. I stood in the corner trying not to be seen. About 90 minutes before the show, the stage crew rolled in and started setting up. No one said a word to me, they just went about their jobs. At one point, out of the corner of my eye, I saw security walking toward me. Shit, it was over. My heart rate spiked, I had no idea which law I was breaking. I never looked up and started fiddling with the amp wiring nearby. The officer kept walking, straight into the restroom — he thought I was part of the crew. I felt like I had just avoided jail.

30 minutes until doors

My friends were in line now, but WAY at the back, knowing that I was inside. The staff was setting things up and energy was picking up a little bit. That’s when Jerry Jeff walked in. In his black t-shirt, carrying his guitar case and straw hat. He didn’t notice me as he started his sound check. I hung out in awe, off to the side play-fiddling with wiring to keep my cover. My hands were sweaty,

Jerry Jeff was a hero to me — his music was the soundtrack of my adolescence and who my mom listened to while she was pregnant with me. I found joy and pain in his lyrics, everything so believable. His music and his attitude were a bit more adventurous than I’d ever be. I always wanted to live as free as he did (still do). I had seen him 15 times at this point, but had never been 6 feet from him.

10 minutes until doors

He strummed a bit. Sang a couple of bars, then he noticed the wide-eyed kid gawking and messing with equipment. He looked at me dead in the eye, with his lips an inch away from a live microphone. His next words would be heard by his crew, the staff and security…he paused a bit. I knew I was TOAST.

Then he winked at me. In that moment, it was like he said “thats the kind of bullshit I’d have done…enjoy tonight, kid.”

And we did. We sat on the front row with our feet propped on the stage all night. Tried and True.