The Best Night of My Life

Back in the spring of 1994, I was 23 years old, about to graduate from college. I already had plans for graduate school in the fall. Life was wide open before me, but it didn’t feel like it. My mother had prematurely passed away from cancer at the young age of 41 in February. It seems odd to say that music played a large part in helping me through that time, but it did. Even more oddly perhaps to some, the music that helped me through the mourning was that of Pearl Jam.

               Of course, she didn’t share my love for Pearl Jam and probably didn’t know anything about them, but I think my mother was largely responsible for the way I value music. She played the piano. Her long slender fingers and painted fingernails danced across the keys of our piano at home and later on that of another at many a church service. As a kid, I sat with her in the living room of our house and listened to her records—Frankie Valli, The Beatles, Elvis, The Supremes, the Temptations, the Beach Boys, Jan and Dean—over and over. There always seemed to be music around.

Though my Mom probably wasn’t familiar with Pearl Jam, there remains a connection. She was sick during the early 90’s and at the time, Pearl Jam was pretty much all I listened to. After my mother’s last Christmas, we shared a long hug in her driveway as I headed back to school. She never really told me how sick she was. I remember looking in my rearview mirror to see her watching me drive away with tears in her eyes as the band’s “Oceans” played on the car stereo. That image haunts me still. It was the last time I saw her outside of a hospital.

Like most other people my age, I had discovered Pearl Jam in 1991 or 1992 as their popularity exploded with their first album “Ten” and the heavy rotation of their live videos for Alive and Even Flow on MTV, back when that network still played music. Then came the MTV Unplugged performance, where they stripped down their songs and you could really hear the talent and charisma they held. This all occurred in the days before the internet. I lived in a small south Georgia town, so there was really no way to get information about a band or shows that might be held within reasonable driving distance. And even if I had been able to garner such information, I had no money to attend a show and no reliable means of transportation if the opportunity arose.

               My friend Reid was from Stone Mountain. Reid graduated a quarter ahead of me and got word to me by phone that Pearl Jam would be playing two nights at Atlanta’s Fox Theatre in early April.  I can’t fathom the emotional release and strength attending one of those shows would have given me at the time. A few hours of escape with the euphoria of live music and the dopamine rush washing over me was just what I needed. Of course, we never really had a shot at getting tickets because back then Pearl Jam was perhaps the biggest band in the world and tickets sold out immediately. So, on the nights of the concerts, I salved my soul watching the VHS tape of the Unplugged performance and their performances from the MTV awards I had recorded off the television the year before. Aside from that and the 2 CD’s they had released to that point, I had no access to my favorite band. But, I had the music, and it served as a balm.

               When I graduated in May, Reid gave me a grey Maxell cassette tape labeled “A Collection of Great Love Songs” as a graduation gift. He never told me what was on it. He just grinned and said “Listen to it”. It turns out, Reid had won a phone contest on the Atlanta alternative rock radio station, 99X in which they gave away a CD of the entire April 3, 1994 performance at the Fox Theatre, which had been broadcast on the station and several others across the country. It has since gone down in the band’s history as a legendary concert and one of their best performances. Reid had dubbed the concert onto the cassette for me. It was like gold in my hand and over the next 10 years, I played the tape so much its edges were worn down from popping in and out of tape decks. It’s a miracle that it still survives. 

Over the intervening 31 years, I have remained a big fan of the band’s music. With the advent of the internet, it became easier to track the band and keep abreast of upcoming tour dates, album releases, and news. The band largely pulled back from media interviews for quite a while in the mid 90’s through the early 2000’s for their own sanity and survival, which is a decision I still respect and thank them for today. Over the years as information flowed more freely about the way they conducted themselves and their business, I only grew to respect and admire them more. I finally saw them live at Atlanta’s Lakewood Amphitheatre in 1998, again in 2000 at Phillips arena, and once more, two weeks later in New Orleans, where, by some unfamiliar stroke of providence, I happened to be during the same week for a conference. Each time my seats were either in the nosebleed section or well away from the stage, and that was ok. At least I was there.

But, life happened. I grew up, just as the band did. Marriage, kids, a job, the deaths of more loved ones, etc. Life happened to me and to the band at about the same pace it seemed. Over the 25 year period from 2000 to 2025, I didn’t see Pearl Jam a single time. Some of that was due to their tour schedule but most of it was due to the fact that I was busy working and raising a family. But around Christmas of 2024, I saw that Pearl Jam would be playing two dates in Atlanta the following April at State Farm arena (the old Phillips arena building). I thought to myself, you know, I’m getting older, they’re getting older. I may not have many more chances to see them. So, with both the kids away at college, I decided to go for it and buy the tickets. But, ticket prices had changed quite a bit in 25 years. I was astonished at the cost. So, once again, I bought 2 tickets for the nosebleed section, which were steep enough. But, at least I would be there. My wife had no interest in going along. Neither did my kids. I could count on one finger the close friends I had who liked Pearl Jam, so I invited my old friend, Peck along.

As the concert approached, I was discouraged somewhat when Peck had to cancel, but determined to forge ahead, I decided to go it alone. Back in 2000, I had helped my new father-in-law crop tobacco on the morning of the concert, went home, showered, drove 3 hours to Atlanta to meet Peck, and drove 3 hours back home after the concert. I don’t have that kind of stamina anymore so I got a hotel room for the night, left home around noon, drove to Atlanta, checked in and decided to head downtown to the arena.

I hadn’t been to a concert in downtown Atlanta in 25 years and I was unsure of the parking situation and untrustful of this whole new e-ticket thing, in which you didn’t get actual physical tickets that you could save as a souvenir anymore. The tickets just magically  popped up on your phone. That is if the software didn’t decide to malfunction, your phone didn’t die or get stolen or dropped, and the electrical grid didn’t go down. As you can tell, I’m not that trustful of technology. But, after downloading the ticketmaster app, enduring the insanity of setting up a whole new set of user Ids and passwords, purchasing additional cloud space for my phone, and downloading the recommended app for directions to the parking deck (which were quite helpful by the way), I was supposedly ready.

It was only about 4:00 and the concert didn’t start until 7:30, but I had nothing else to do in this place. I wasn’t sure exactly how to get to the parking deck in which I had reserved a spot next to the arena, and I wanted to give myself plenty of cushion for the afternoon Atlanta traffic. The new, handy little app provided excellent directions, routing me around traffic, through the Georgia Tech campus and into downtown, where I made it to the parking deck outside State Farm Arena about 4:30.

Upon arrival, a gentleman scanned my parking ticket and instructed me to “park here on the first level and go on up to level 3 to go inside”. After climbing the steps to level 3, I emerged into a parking deck sectioned off with ropes. A fellow was there scanning tickets, so with little else to do, I let him scan mine. My phone showed the purchase of 2 tickets and since I was alone, this seemed to create a little confusion for him. He asked, “Just one”? “Yes”, I replied, and he motioned me on. Walking a little further I came to another gentleman holding a handful of long, hot pink, straps. He told me to hold out my wrist and as I did so, he slapped one of these arm bands onto it, and motioned me further. I didn’t think much about it. I hadn’t been to a concert in an arena like this in years and just figured they put an arm band on everyone at these things now.

I walked up to the end of the line, which put me not terribly far from the front—maybe 75 people or so. As I stood there I happened to glance down at the wrist band, which was emblazoned with “4/29 Atlanta Pearl Jam”. Then across the bottom I read, “Valid for GA Pit/Early Entry Only”. I thought to myself, “Nah, it can’t be.” I noticed everyone else in line had the same arm band. Another fellow walked up behind me in line. We started talking and introduced ourselves. His name was J.D., a UPS driver from Alabama. He tells me this is his 39^th Pearl Jam show, that he’s seen them all over the world, including multiple European shows with his kids, and that he is taking off 2 weeks of work to follow the band around on this tour. He seems to know several other people in line doing the same thing. So, I ask him, “Is this arm band what I think it is? Are we really in the pit?” “Yes”, he replied, “Haven’t you been in the pit before?” “No, I’m always in the nosebleeds and am supposed to be tonight.” I told him the story of how I came to be in this line and he tells me, “Dude, don’t tell anybody else that story! These things are impossible to get and a lot of these people have been camping out to get them”. “Well surely”, I say, “they’ll scan my ticket again and realize I’m not supposed to be here and they’ll boot me out.” “No”, replied J.D., “once you’ve got that arm band you’re in.” And we high five.

J.D. and I stood in line talking for the next 45 minutes or so. A security guard walked up at some point and announced to the crowd, “They’re running a little late with sound check but as soon as the band is off the stage we’ll let you guys in.” To which, a large cheer erupted. About 5:30, they let us in—about an hour before everyone else at the main gates. As we start inside, another security guard—very large, bald, and armed—tells us in a firm voice “No running! If we see anybody running, you’ll be booted out.  Not just out of the pit but out of the arena!”

We walked inside and there was the stage. People began to fill in up at the front of it right along the center and to the right side of the stage, known to Pearl Jam fans as “Stone side” because that’s the side Pearl Jam’s rhythm guitarist, Stone Gossard inhabits. Since the other side was filing in slower I went left and found myself about 3 people from the rail. I could nearly reach out my arm and grab it. This situated me “Mike side”, standing right in between where bassist, Jeff Ament and lead guitarist Mike Mcready would be playing shortly, providing me with an incredible view of the stage.

Being a Pearl Jam fan, I wanted to get a T-shirt or something as a souvenir but I was thinking to myself that there’s no way I could surrender this spot so near the stage. About that time, another fellow walked up to me and we began talking. This turned out to be Joe from Long Island. Joe and his son flew down just for the show. After we talked a while, I told him I’d like to get a t-shirt and asked if he could hold my spot in line. He said, “Of course, and hey can you get my son a PJ license plate while you’re up there? I tried to get one at the pop-up vendor booth outside but they were sold out. I’ll Venmo you when you get back.”

I left the floor, went up to the vending booths and there was no line whatsoever. Most of the crowd was still outside the glass windows of the venue waiting to be let in. So, I made my purchases, including Joe’s license plate and went back down to my spot. I handed the license plate to Joe and he asked, “Hey, what’s your Venmo and I’ll pay you back now”. At the time, I felt an enormous amount of gratefulness for the situation I was in, so I simply told him, “Don’t worry about it. I’m not even supposed to be here and some divine hand has placed me here anyway, so I just want to pass it on. Besides, I don’t do Venmo.” “Oh man, you’re the nicest guy in this place”, Joe exclaimed and we had a big laugh.

J.D. found his way over to me after visiting some other people he knew and we talked some more, as did Joe and I and several other people around us. It seems virtually everybody there had seen Pearl Jam at least 15 or 20 times. I told them, “I’ve only seen them 3 times previously and it has been 25 years since my last Pearl Jam show.” This seemed to excite them all. They welcomed me into their little community, and continued to ask through the night if I was having a good time, like I was the long-lost prodigal brother finally returned home.

Just before the opening band, “Dead Pioneers” came out, I decided I better go grab something to eat, drink, and hit the bathroom before it all got started. I emptied the bladder, wolfed down a hot dog, grabbed a water, some M&M’s, and headed back to my spot. Of course, by this time the pit had filled in pretty good. I squeezed my way through and as I made it almost back to my spot, another audience member asked me, “Hey, were you up there before? You know, we all waited in line for these spots and you can’t just go on up there ahead of everybody.” I started to explain that yes, I just came from up there when Joe, turned around and said “Oh hey yeah, that’s Lenny! Let him on up here!” I felt the hand of providence upon me once more.

Dead Pioneers came out, played 30 -40 minutes or so and got the usual tepid opening band reception but they warmed things up nicely. The anticipation was building. As the stage hands cleared away the Pioneers’ gear and did their final sound check of Pearl Jam’s gear, we all started tossing around songs we hoped to hear that night. Pearl Jam is well known for playing a different set list each night. You know there’s always a few classic hits they’ll play but the rest of the set is wide open for anything and you never know what you’ll get. The band had released six albums since I had last seen them, so there’s a lot I wanted to hear but there is a somewhat obscure single release I hoped for called “Man of the Hour”. We all agreed the chances of hearing that were slim. J.D. wanted to hear the song, “Inside Job”.

The pit at a Pearl Jam show has obviously changed a lot in 30+ years. Gone are the days of slam dancing and stage diving. Everyone maintained a pretty good personal space. We weren’t all jammed up against one another nor sweating all over each other. There was good conversation and everyone was friendly and happy. The only exception to this occurred when someone tried to make their way up to the front just before Pearl Jam came out. She was stopped by the crowd and declared that her daughter was up front, she was just trying to get up there to her. But, the crowd called her bluff because all those people knew each other. They notified security and she was told to go further back. It was really quite something to see how these die-hards take care of each other. I felt grateful for Joe, lest I would have probably found myself in the same situation.

Finally, after much anticipation, about 8:50, the lights went down. My new friends asked “Are you ready?”. The band’s stage intro music, a soft atmospheric tune dubbed “Dark Entry” started to play, the red video curtains on the big screen behind the stage parted, and all of a sudden, here they came strolling out onto the stage, silhouetted against the blank, white screen.  There was Matt Cameron taking his place on the drum kit, there was Mike and Jeff, then came Eddie Vedder walking out to center stage, notebooks and wine bottle in hand, and Stone on the other side. There they all were, right in front of me within spitting distance. The people who had made all this music I have been listening to all these years. I couldn’t believe I was there. Sometimes now, I still can’t believe it.

The band opened with a somewhat slower, mid-tempo song called “Can’t Keep” to get things started. Next, they played a haunting version of “Nothingman” before diving into “Given to Fly” which builds slowly through two verses to the pre-chorus. As the whole arena joined in with Eddie to sing “the waves came crashing like a fist to the jaw/delivered him wings, hey, look at me now”, the tempo picked up, the chorus broke…“he’s flying”….and everyone was bouncing up and down, singing along. The show was on.

I’ll admit in the last few years I’ve heard a few live performances that seemed like the band may be starting to phone it in on some level. The performances sometimes weren’t as intense as they used to seem. But, they’ve been doing this for 35 years. They’re entitled to an off night occasionally. I had prepared myself to not expect too much. But this wasn’t one of those nights. On this night, Pearl Jam was in fine form.

I’ll spare you the details of the night’s setlist. I didn’t get to hear “Man of the Hour” but that’s ok. There was plenty over the course of the 25 song setlist to enjoy. J.D. did get his wish to hear “Inside Job”. When you’re that close to the stage, you’re enveloped by the music. I could feel the drum beat in my gut. Every bend of Mike and Stone’s guitar strings coursed through me, with the rhythm of Jeff’s bass keeping time. As I watched the band play song after familiar song, I thought about how far this music has carried me.

Throughout the night thoughts and images poured through my mind of the path my life has taken over the last 25 years and beyond, even back to the early 90’s when I first heard Pearl Jam. There has been joy and heartbreak. The passing of my mother, my grandparents, and in 2011, my father. I thought about my friend Reid, who I hadn’t seen in 30 years. Later I learned that he too had passed away in 2024. I met my wife not long after my mother passed. We got married, had two kids. I have a great job, a career. I’ve been blessed to work on the land. On the balance, life has been good to me over the years. Better than I deserve. Through it all, I have listened to this band. Pearl Jam has largely been the soundtrack to my life for 35 years. I couldn’t help feeling that something magical was happening on this night. Oddly, through all of it, the image of my mother kept returning to me. Her smile. Her hair. Her fingernails. Her voice. Back before she got sick. Back when she was “young and strong.”

I still don’t know how all those things played out to put me in that spot on that night but strangely I am convinced there was something unseen at work. If I hadn’t gone down to the venue early I probably wouldn’t have been directed to the 3^rd floor of the deck. If Peck had gone with me perhaps I wouldn’t have been allowed through the GA line. If a more diligent person had been scanning tickets, maybe they wouldn’t have let me through. Had I not met J.D. maybe I would have abandoned the thought of standing in that line or told the wrong person my story and they’d have had me booted out. Perhaps I wouldn’t have been allowed back down to my spot on the floor on “Mike’s side” three people from the rail if it weren’t for meeting Joe. Funny how life works out. The date was April 29. It would have been my mother’s 72^nd birthday. As the song says, “hard to imagine.” Thanks Mom.