Take a Walk on the Dark Side

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Take a Walk on the Dark Side Page 25

by R. Gary Patterson


  Since the Parisian morgues were closed, the body had to be kept on ice for the next few days. Graham believed that Pamela Courson did not take the time to look at the body, due to its frightful appearance, when it was placed within a coffin. Another puzzling fact concerned the absence of an autopsy. To some of the most imaginative fans, this would suggest a cover-up. Could a doctor have been bribed? Was the coffin empty? Doors manager Bill Siddons flew to Paris after calling Pamela Courson to confirm rumors of Morrison’s death. Siddons was familiar with the rumors. Early in the Doors’ career, Siddons had heard many unconfirmed rumors of Morrison’s death. In some accounts Jim was killed in a car crash. Other accounts had the rock singer falling from an apartment building into the street as he walked along a narrow ledge. As Bill’s heart would sink with each report, Jim would always appear and ask the same question, “How did I die this time?” This time would be different.

  Siddons arrived in Paris on July 6, 1971, three days after Morrison’s death. He was taken to Pamela’s apartment, where he found a sealed coffin and a death certificate signed by one doctor. The death certificate was filed with the U.S. Embassy the next day, and on the afternoon of July 8, 1971, Jim Morrison was buried at Père-Lachaise Cemetery. “Five mourners were present: Pamela, Siddons, Alan Ronay, Agnès Varda, and Robin Wertle. They threw flowers on the grave and said their goodbyes … Siddons said in a prepared statement released after his return to the United States, ‘I have just returned from Paris, where I attended the funeral of Jim Morrison, … Jim was buried in a simple ceremony, with only a few close friends present. The initial news of his death and funeral was kept quiet because those of us who knew him intimately and loved him as a person wanted to avoid all the notoriety and circus-like atmosphere that surrounded the deaths of such other rock personalities as Janis Joplin and Jimi Hendrix.

  “‘I can say Jim died peacefully of natural causes—he had been in Paris since March with his wife, Pam. He had seen a doctor in Paris about a respiratory problem and had complained of his problem on Saturday—the day of his death.’”20 Siddons at no time asked that the coffin be opened to view the body. Maybe there wasn’t a reason to do this, but just maybe the last thing that Ray Manzarek said to Bill Siddons before the manager left for Morrison’s funeral may haunt Siddons just a bit: “‘Oh, Bill,’ Ray added, ‘I don’t mean to sound morbid, but please make sure.’

  “‘Make sure of what, Ray?’

  “‘I don’t know, man, just make sure.’”21

  On April 25, 1974, Pamela Courson, “just another lost angel … city of night,” died of a heroin overdose while living in an apartment in Hollywood, California. Her parents had her remains cremated and one legend claimed that her ashes were flown to Paris and buried with Jim at Père-Lachaise. Though her final resting place is reported to be Père-Lachaise, the tremendous costs of transporting a burial urn to Paris and the red tape that surely would have resulted in a long delay for a proper burial forced her parents to have their daughter buried in California instead. If Jim Morrison had indeed faked his own death and escaped to Africa or some other location, surely Pamela Courson would have known. In an interview with Danny Sugarman, Pamela stated, “If Jim were alive he would call.” If this was the case, Pamela took the secret to her grave. Perhaps Morrison had written her epitaph earlier within his lyrics to “L.A. Woman” when he mentioned the “little girls in their Hollywood bungalows.” The most poignant line, which would certainly refer to Pam, was Jim’s description of “just another lost angel … city of night.” In this case, the star-crossed lovers have both managed to finally break on through to the other side, together.

  Some fans claimed that the tragic death of James Douglas Morrison involved the occult. There were suggestions that he had been killed supernaturally. A voodoo doll sent by a spurned lover was one explanation. One grisly account mentioned Morrison being killed with his eyes being removed by his killer to release the dead poet’s spirit or demon. Another theory suggested that the death announcement and funeral service were put off five days in order for Morrison’s spiritual presence to properly leave his lifeless body in some hidden ritual. Hadn’t Morrison been involved with the occult? Hadn’t Patricia Kennealy stated that Jim Morrison was interested in undergoing the witches’ initiation ceremony and becoming a witch himself? Morrison was deeply interested in the blues and like Robert Johnson mentions a certain happening at a crossroads in “The Soft Parade.” Morrison sings that he and a friend should “slay a few animals at the crossroads … we need someone new, something else to get us through.” Maybe a number of the ancient bluesmen who marveled at Robert Johnson’s whispered pact with Satan could mistake Morrison’s meeting “someone new” after a symbolic sacrifice at the crossroads in exchange for “something else to get us through” as his own confession that had now placed a hellhound on his trail. As you can see, it’s not all that difficult to create a modern-day urban legend.

  A small minority of fans have suggested that Morrison was murdered, just another piece of a massive conspiracy led by U.S. government agencies whose purpose was to destroy the counter-culture. Their targets were obviously Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, and Jim Morrison. Strangely, an eerie line from “Hyacinth House” mentions, “I see the bathroom is clear. I think somebody’s near, I’m sure that someone is following me, oh yeah.” For these conspiracy buffs, it may suggest that in those above lines Jim Morrison may have foreseen his own murder. This theory is really a little too bizarre, but in the United States we seem to have a great affection for unsolved mysteries and conspiracies.

  The first time I visited Père-Lachaise in July of 1993, I found myself entering the cemetery gates on a drizzling, chilly Sunday morning. This particular setting seemed strange since Paris is usually very sultry in July. I had read earlier about the riots that had taken place within the cemetery walls upon the twentieth anniversary of Morrison’s death so I wasn’t quite sure what I would see. I had an audiocassette of John Densmore’s book about the Doors, Riders on the Storm, playing softly within my Walkman as I made my search for the final resting place of “Le Roi d’Rock.”

  The jutting Gothic sepulchers inched silently upward to the dark gray sky as I made my way through the winding maze of the stiller town. I noticed a marker, much like those found in a shopping mall directing customers to their favorite stores, with complete directions to a number of celebrity graves. I visited Chopin, Balzac, and Oscar Wilde. I noted that there were no directions to Jim Morrison’s final resting place. It was then that I noticed the simple graffiti that directed me to my destination. It was fascinating to follow the signs: JIM [right arrow]. As I got closer, another message informed me that I was walking the “King’s Highway.” Within a few minutes, which actually seemed much closer to an eternity, I was there. Morrison’s grave was a very simple plot of earth. The fabled bust had long since been stolen. Behind the simple marker, a large crypt wall bore the inscription, “Morrison’s Hotel.” I knew my long search had now ended. I gazed at the headstone that contained this inscription: James Douglas Morrison. A Greek epitaph followed which stated, “KATA TON ΔAIMONA EAYTOY.” I have heard that the translation is “True to his Spirit.” John Densmore was right. This grave appeared to be much too small for someone of Jim Morrison’s height.

  For a long while after his death, Morrison’s grave stood bare and desolate among the highly figured palaces of eternity. Pamela Courson was said to have asked the surviving members of the Doors to contribute for an appropriate marker denoting the eternal lair of the Lizard King. The marker was never purchased, which led drummer John Densmore to accuse Courson of “putting the money up her arm.” Eventually, Jim Morrison’s family paid for the dead poet’s monument. Unfortunately, the family still is forced to pay security costs and cleaning fees that are associated with removing the perpetual layers of graffiti left by two generations paying homage to the rebel poet. As I stood silently by the grave, I noticed that a group of spectators had assembled. This small patch of broken
earth was the only gravesite that was literally enveloped by curious onlookers. One at a time they posed for the camera, each standing smiling by the tombstone either alone or in small groups. One young bystander with tears streaming down his face sat solemnly and quietly at the foot of the grave. It appeared that he had lost his best friend. Sadly, I remembered that before the current headstone was in place a simple plastic marker identified the grave. It was engraved with just one word, “Ami.” In this case Jim and his music have continued to attract a new feast of friends. Upon the grave fans had paid homage to the fallen star. One had left a Snickers candy bar. A small clay seal rested unperturbed upon the damp earth. An eight by ten color photo of the young Dionysus from early 1967 glanced back at the crowd from its vigil alongside the headstone. To the right of the burial plot, I noticed a playing card pushed down into the soft dirt; appropriately, it was the Jack of Hearts. Again I smiled and thought once again just how appropriate the lyrics to “Hyacinth House” fit this occasion. In this song Morrison includes the line, “Why did you throw the Jack of Hearts away? It was the only card in the deck that I had left to play.” Now, the card was finally returned to its rightful owner.

  During the summer of 1996, I returned to Père-Lachaise. I couldn’t help but notice the inscribed directions that would once again lead me to Morrison’s resting place. This time, however, it was to be very different. Bright fluorescent yellow ribbons of police tape surrounded the grave. The curious tourists were there with their cameras recording the scene for hundreds of scrap-books back home. The graffiti had been washed from the surrounding monuments. A police guard informed us that only one at a time could approach the grave. No camcorders could be used. At this time I remembered Alan Graham’s final remarks to my friend Gary James. Pamela Courson had only leased the burial site for thirty years. It was said that many relatives of the dead that surround Morrison’s grave have demanded the removal of Jim Morrison’s body at the earliest possible time. The lease expired on July 8, 2001, and apparently will not be renewed. In this case Morrison would be exhumed and his body flown to the United States for final burial. It was also rumored that Los Angeles would be his final resting place. Graham hinted that at that time the coffin might be opened and, for some fans, a much overdue final identification made of the electric shaman’s body.

  On July 8, 2001, I was back in Paris and again made my way to the resting place of James Douglas Morrison. As I walked through the gothic monuments I noticed that something was different. Gone was the graffiti that signaled the “King’s Highway,” and freshly scrubbed curbs gave no clues as to the direction of Morrison’s grave. The yellow police tape was also removed from the gravesite and there were no policemen on duty. It is rumored that the Morrison estate has agreed to pay for upkeep and keep the neighboring headstones graffiti-free and there are whispers about security devices in and around Jim’s grave. Morrison is now a permanent resident of Père-Lachaise, and the curious legend of the unopened coffin remains. The crowds will still come and stand by the gravesite but at this time it appears that we may never know the final secret of the Lizard King.

  Membership in the club did not end with the death of Jim Morrison. In 1973, the Grateful Dead’s keyboardist Ron “Pigpen” McKernan became the club’s next member. McKernan was devoted to the blues. He sang, played the harmonica and keyboards, and, along with Jerry Garcia, founded the lineup that would become the Grateful Dead. The long, spirited band jams and constant drinking took their toll on Pigpen. At times he was much too weak to perform as liver disease swept through his body. The band hired Keith Godchaux as a backup keyboardist and Godchaux’s wife Donna as a backup singer. For some shows McKernan, on a very limited basis, and Godchaux would perform together with the band. Though he had quit drinking for the last year of his life, McKernan’s liver disease continued to progress. On March 8, 1973, his landlord discovered his body next to his bed. It appeared that he had been dead for two days: “The official autopsy results mentioned that Pigpen had died of a ‘massive gastrointestinal hemorrhage.’ He also was found to have suffered from a ‘massively enlarged spleen’ and some ‘pulmonary edema.’ Ron ‘Pigpen’ McKernan was dead at the age of twenty-seven.”22

  Though no other members of the Grateful Dead were admitted as members of the club, fickle Fate still made sure that at least three other band members would follow in the tradition of the band’s name. In 1979, the Godchauxs left due to undisclosed musical differences within the band. Keith Godchaux was replaced with Brent Mydland. One year later on July 23, 1980, Keith Godchaux was killed in a motor vehicle accident. The band continued to perform to enthusiastic crowds of “Deadheads” throughout the 1980s until Brent Mydland died of a drug overdose on July 26, 1990. Ironically, his death was almost exactly one year to the day of the death of former keyboardist Keith God-chaux. Without a doubt the Grateful Dead seemed to produce an extremely high mortality rate for its keyboardists.

  The “long strange trip” ended for the Grateful Dead when band founder Jerry Garcia died from complications associated with a drug overdose on August 9, 1995. Garcia’s death occurred eight days past his fifty-third birthday and six days before the twenty-six-year anniversary of Woodstock. It would appear that Garcia’s life had come almost full circle. The Grateful Dead performed at Woodstock on August 16 (on the anniversary of the death of Robert Johnson). This concert is generally considered to be the last hurrah for the Flower Child movement. Woodstock served as the apex, the highest moment in which a half million members of the counterculture gathered in a sea of mud, with inadequate facilities, and with very little food to attend an event that exhibited no acts of violent crime either at the scene of the performances or in the nearby towns that lay along the way.

  The Grateful Dead, also by a strange twist of fate, managed to perform at Altamont with the Stones. It has been speculated that Garcia suggested the concept of the Stones performing a free concert in San Francisco to draw a crowd larger than Woodstock for the conclusion of the Rolling Stones’ American tour. The Dead were also said to have suggested the hiring of the Hell’s Angels for the Stones’ security at the show. The tragedy at the Altamont concert, along with the Manson murders, proved to be the nadir of the hippie movement. Jerry Garcia and the Dead had come full circle with the birth and death of the Woodstock generation.

  Rock Scully, the Grateful Dead’s manager and close friend of Jerry Garcia, commented on just how superstitious Jerry was concerning death: “He would never say the word or allow himself to be photographed in front of a tombstone, and was always pained when promoters came up with graveyard scenes to advertise the band.

  “When Pigpen died, Jerry and I went to the funeral together. Lying in an open casket in his blue-jean jacket covered with his pins and buttons, Pig looked a lot better than he had in some time. But Jerry was appalled. ‘Don’t ever let that happen to me,’ he said as we walked away from the coffin. ‘There are just two things I want you to promise me: Don’t ever find me in the back of a record store signing records and don’t bury me in an open casket.’”23 Obviously, one promise was not kept. According to press reports covering Garcia’s death and funeral, Jerry’s body was viewed in an open casket on Thursday, August 10, at St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church. (Ironically, one of the Dead’s classic songs is entitled “St. Stephen.”) He was dressed simply in a black T-shirt and sweatpants. Jerry Garcia’s funeral service was held on August 11, 1995. Jerry Garcia’s last number performed with the Grateful Dead was said to be Bob Dylan’s “Knocking on Heaven’s Door.” The long strange journey had now ended.

  Badfinger was another rock band that contributed one of its members to the club. The British band signed with the Beatles’ Apple Records and produced a number of hit songs throughout the world. They were more popular in America than in Great Britain and in some ways this led to tragedy for the band. After signing a management contract with an American promoter, the band began its steady decline. First, the band lost its recording contract with Apple but was
signed instead to Warner Bros. Records for $3 million for a six-album deal. The band received nothing of the advance, which was used up by the band’s production expenses. With their financial affairs crumbling, band member Pete Ham committed suicide by hanging himself in his garage on April 23, 1975. He was despondent over his financial state and became worried about the birth of his first child. He was twenty-seven years old.

  The band continued, but after a promised tour of America fell through a few years later that forced even more financial worries, band member Tom Evans committed suicide by hanging himself in his backyard. He was thirty-six years old. Ham and Evans were consummate pop songwriters whose haunting “Without You” became a hit song for Harry Nilsson as well as several other artists. Perhaps this song of despair best sums up the careers of two artists destined by fate to follow Alexander’s short path.

  At times, membership in the club often involves bizarre and unexplained circumstances as a prerequisite. For instance, Roger Lee Durham of Bloodstone entered the club at the height of the band’s popularity in October of 1973. His death was credited to unknown circumstances. However, membership in the club often occurs through natural and very explainable reasons. Two members, Chris Bell of Big Star and Dennis Dale Boon of the Minute-men, complied with the membership guidelines when they were both killed in two separate auto accidents. Chris Bell was killed in Memphis when the car he was driving struck a telephone pole on the night of December 27, 1978. Boon was killed in a car crash in Arizona on December 23, 1985.

  The next rock superstar to fulfill the requirements for exclusive membership into the club was Kurt Cobain. Cobain was the guitarist, lead vocalist, and cofounder of Nirvana. With the release of Nevermind, Nirvana exploded onto the music scene with a primal vengeance. Cobain’s lyrics reflected themes of isolation and alienation, and became a rallying cry for Generation X. Due to his fame, Kurt Cobain took his seat upon the rock and roll roller coaster. The highs were associated with the band’s deserved critical acclaim, his marriage to Courtney Love, and the birth of his daughter, Frances. Unfortunately, the lows were just as devastating. Cobain turned to heroin to provide an escape from what he saw as his own creative failures. He constantly complained about intense stomach pain. The pain was so severe that alcohol and heroin became his ambivalent antidote by which he exorcized his own demons.

 

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