Friday night, June 17, 1988
It's a warm Iowa night, the sun dropping towards the horizon as guests start arriving at the Surf Ballroom in Clear Lake, Iowa. It's a special occasion. Tomorrow they'll be dedicating a monument to the three singers who performed their last concert here before perishing in a plane crash north of town nearly 30 years earlier. But tonight they'll be celebrating the music that brought the musicians together on a Winter Dance Party tour of the upper Midwest in the dead of winter. Relatives of each of the dead singers are expected at the Surf tonight for the first time. The dance is advertised as a Tribute to '50s and '60s Rock 'n' Roll, but is informally known as the Summer Dance Party.
8:00 p.m.
Bruce Christensen, a banker from Atlanta, Ga., is keeping busy. A longtime member of the Buddy Holly Memorial Society, Christensen has been tasked with serving as a liaison between the press and Surf management, which is busy enough just putting on a sold-out dance in a legendary (and cavernous) ballroom. Sporting a "Surf Staff" button, Christensen is a gracious ambassador as he ushers me around the ballroom. He knows that I'm representing Iowa's largest newspaper, The Des Moines Register, a paper that has extensively covered Clear Lake's annual tribute dances since they started a decade earlier and am looking for fresh stories to tell.
The first person he introduces me to is Bob Hale who, as a young announcer at local radio station KRIB, had emceed that Winter Dance Party show on Feb. 2, 1959. He's emceeing tonight's show, too, and is working on an article that he thinks will be the lead story marking the 30th anniversary of the crash in the February 1989 issue of Memories magazine. Next I meet Don Larson of Evergreen, Colo., who's doing a brisk business selling "I Was There" t-shirts, posters of the Everly Brothers and The Buddy Holly Story as well as collectible record albums. Then I'm introduced to a contingent of aspiring movie folks. Gene Ruggiero, a man who owns an Oscar for film editing (Around the World in 80 Days) among his lengthy screen credits, is trying to put together a full-length motion picture about the Big Bopper. With movies already in the books on Holly and Valens, Ruggiero thinks it's time to complete the trilogy. His son, Rafael, persuaded him to track down the Bopper's son and Des Moines Roosevelt graduate Michael Montgomery was well on his way to completing the screenplay, Ruggiero said.
Celebrities start arriving as the Paul New Band struggles through sound issues in its oldies set. Bruce Christensen's wife, Sue, brings a sizeable Valens entourage, which includes Ritchie's siblings -- Connie Alvarez, Irma Padilla and Bob Morales -- to a table next to one occupied by Maria Elena Holly, Buddy's widow. Maria suggests they pull the tables together and as they're settling in, Jay Perry Richardson, enters the ballroom.
Though the Surf is only half full, there is an audible gasp as Richardson enters. He's the spitting image of his dad, the Big Bopper, with his flat-top crewcut, knee-length dark jacket over light blue jeans, white shirt and sneakers. With a hearty laugh, he pulls up a chair and joins the Holly-Valens group. Around 8:30 the persistent sound problems force the New band to stop, but few in the crowd seem to notice. When they finally resume, emcee Hale quips to the audience: "It's taken so long, Paul New is now Paul Old." The Surf's fabled cloud machine swings into action, projecting puffs of billowy clouds gently across the building's curved ceiling.
Peggy Sue
The opening chords of the Holly classic catch Maria's ears. She stops chewing gum for a minute as she refocuses her attention toward the stage. Bob Morales soon has her on the dance floor as a young woman circles them, snapping photos. Maria's fashionable star-shaped earrings glitter despite the dimly-lit ballroom. I wonder to myself where she would be tonight had Holly lived.
Some people remove a "Press Only" sign from a table and sit down as a new band prepares to take the stage. The sound problems continue with Elvis' "Trying to Get to You" struggling to get through the buzz of untuned instruments, patch cords not yet patched and cries of "Test. Test." Bob Hale is signing autographs in front of the stage; Michael Montgomery is taking notes as he talks to someone in front of the stand where beer tickets may be purchased. As somebody mentions Buddy Holly, Maria looks up from a tub of popcorn.
Rockin' Robin
As the new band, Rockin' Robin, opens with its namesake tune, the lead singer is obviously irked by the few people on the dance floor. He chides the crowd for sitting. "I guarantee we're not going to do any Michael Jackson," he promises.
Lonely Teardrops
It's a credible version of the Jackie Wilson tune, generating a trickle of new dancers. Another chiding.
Keep A Knockin'
Don't You Just Know It
9:06 p.m.
There's still a bit of light outside the ballroom. The lobby is empty except for a reporter and a couple of people talking with the ticket seller.
Duke of Earl
Bob Morales is one of few people on the dance floor and those brave souls hesitate, not quite sure how to dance to this song. Watching them dance proves there's no consensus. The singer prefaces the next song by proclaiming it "the saddest song in rock & roll."
Runaround Sue
A solo dancer takes over the area in front of the stage, not quite pulling off a split. He survives and appears to go into spasms, but at least he's on his feet. After another failed split attempt, he works his way into the spotlight, his sweaty face stealing it from the band as clouds swirl above. Maria Holly pulls the Valens sisters aside for a chat. They look very much like a group of best high school friends. They embrace.
Shout
This really revs the crowd up, at least as much as you can with this oldies crowd. Bob Morales cuts a mean path on the floor as his partner struggles to keep up.The solo dancer stands in one spot, his right leg in a spastic twitch, alternating with a pelvic gyration that was either obscene or comical. Sue Christensen and Michael Montgomery are shaking with the best of them while standing behind tables off the dance floor. The lead singer seizes the moment, wading into the crowd. "If you don't stand up and shout, you're not only not an American, you're not a rock & roller and you're a wienie." The solo dancer is running out of steam and falls out of sync with the rest of the crowd as the song winds down. Maria is looking at a fan's Buddy Holly scrapbook as another fan nearby is wearing a button: "Every Day Is a Holly Day."
9:34 p.m.
A recording of Buddy Holly music plays between sets. Jay Richardson is busy signing autographs when a fan suggests a group photo of him with Maria and the Valens family. It seems odd to have these people -- relatives of famous people but not celebrities themselves -- signing programs, record albums and guitars for an adoring crowd. Six months ago Richardson was quietly installing floor tiles in Houston, Texas. Hale and Surf manager Darrell Hein introduce the special guests from the stage and tell the story about how Valens, Holly and Richardson "had bratwurst in Green Bay and wanted to arrange a cookout when they came back."
9:59 p.m.
Great Balls of Fire
The Rockin' Robins resume playing but now that the crowd knows who they are, Jay Richardson and Maria Holly can't get away from the autograph seekers crowding the stage. One fan kisses Maria on the cheek; another has her sign a Ritchie Valens album while Bob Morales, looking dapper in his black pants, white shirt, black suspenders, black tie and black & white saddle shoes, looks on.
A few minutes later, the band pauses to introduce Wayne Jones of the Buddy Holly Memorial Society, who had flown in from his home in Connecticut. "It's great to hear some of that music that's gone from the charts, but not from our hearts," Jones told the crowd before introducing fellow BHMS members Bruce & Sue Christensen and Don Larson.
Tommy Sands, a 1950s heartthrob, takes the stage with the Rockin' Robins backing him up. After passable versions of "Roll Over Beethoven" and "Shake Rattle & Roll" (the original Joe Turner version, thank goodness), Sands proceeded to croon a string of his own slow-dancing tunes as the spotlight reflects flecks of gray in his dark hair, not surprising for an artist whose heyday was three decades earlier.
Goin' Steady
Graduation Day
Sands pauses to allude to to his five-year marriage to Nancy Sinatra, whose No. 1 hit "These Boots Are Made For Walkin'" came shortly after their marriage ended. "I'm the reason those boots were made for walkin'," he quips.
Teenage Crush
By the time the band got to "Blue Suede Shoes," Ruggiero and Montgomery had retreated to the ballroom's restaurant area, perhaps to discuss their movie. The band closed the set with "Johnny B. Goode."
10:37 p.m.
Walking Along
The night's headliners, the Diamonds, have taken over the stage. The crowd presses toward the stage as the autograph seekers thin out, though Maria is still busy.
Sh-Boom
Bob Morales moves to the center of the dance floor, looking like he wants to dance. He starts to dance by himself, shuffling closer to the stage as a couple of women back out of his way. He quietly moves back to his table, nursing what looks to be an almost empty screwdriver.
Love, Love, Love
Sue Christensen takes one of the young girls in the Valens contingent to the dance floor and gives her an impromptu dance lesson.
Unchained Melody
There's some serious slow dancing going on as Jay Richardson replaces Maria Holly at the autograph table. Bruce Christensen finally gets a chance to dance with his wife. Tommy Sands has gathered quite a crowd (mostly women) as he signs autographs to the side of the stage.
Why Do Fools Fall In Love
Maria stands transfixed, her head bobbing in time to the music, as the sax player unleashes a particularly energetic break in this Frankie Lymon classic.
16 Candles
Irma Padilla persuades Jay Richardson to join her on the dance floor, yanking on the long tails of his coat to get his attention. Bruce Christensen dances with Maria Holly, her arms straining to reach his shoulder. The booths ringing the dance floor empty as patrons take to the dance floor. Sue Christensen does an impromptu solo stroll before Bob Hale steps in to rescue her. Bob Morales, of course, is dancing, too.
High Sign
Bob Morales is dancing with two of the young Valens family girls. A woman starts to snap a photo of a friend sitting on Sands' lap when Hale steps in to take a photo with both women on Sands' lap. After the photo, the women won't leave.
Ka-Ding-Dong
The two women reluctantly leave Sands' lap.
Crying
Sue Christensen dances with Tommy Sands (Bruce Christensen is the better dancer).
The Stroll
Christensen and Sands start a stroll line, but Christensen soon leaves, leaving Sands confused. As Sands bungles his steps with his replacement strolling partner, Bob Morales sits this one out, enjoying a cigarette.
Silhouettes
A cluster of women from the Valens party dance together as Bob Morales snaps photos. The sweaty solo dancer from earlier in the evening has rested enough to make a weak encore.
One Summer Night
Little Darlin'
My Prayer
11:27 p.m.
The crowd is clearly thinning as Paul New sets up for a closing set. Irma is looking for Connie as the Valens party prepares to leave. Jay Richardson signs one last autograph in the lobby before exiting as a tape of Holly's "Well, All Right" is playing. It's been quite a night.
Author Larry Lehmer's book about Dick Clark and American Bandstand -- Bandstandland: How Dancing Teenagers Took Over America and Dick Clark Took Over Rock & Roll --is now available from Sunbury Press. His book about the last tour of Buddy Holly, the Big Bopper and Ritchie Valens -- The Day the Music Died: The Last Tour of Buddy Holly, the Big Bopper and Ritchie Valens -- is available at Amazon.