They keep rolling in but what did we really expect? This book is stunning! This time it's from "Music and Other Ramblings" found here.
My favorite line? The last one because it resonates:
Go get this book if you haven't already - www.foryoubruce.comThere is, however, one thing that Morin hopes never happens.“I never want to meet him. I’m terrified I might be disappointed. Besides, what would I possibly say to him?” she said
Hørsholm Denmark
June 14, 2003
Jane Berger
I was 26 when I went to my first Springsteen concert, in Parken, Copenhagen, Denmark. During the show I got a feeling that I’ve never had before. For the first time in 26 years I was feeling proud of myself. Proud of myself for being a Bruce Springsteen fan. It was choking for me to realize that I’d never truly felt like that before. But now I know what the feeling is like, and I want to feel it again
To purchase your copy of this "for the fans, by the fans" masterpiece, head to www.foryoubruce.com
New York
The nation was still reeling from the September 11 attacks when on January 26, 2002, I got the knock on the door that no parent ever wants to hear. My first-born son, Jonathon, a gifted drummer, was dead at 20, a victim of a drunk driver. There are no words to express the grief and rage you feel when you lose a child, and no one can truly understand the depth of despair you feel. Then The Rising was released, and Bruce gave us the words to express our sorrow as well as the words to help us start to heal.
I was convinced that Bruce lost someone on 9/11 because in the song “You’re Missing” he so clearly detailed what it is like to be a survivor. Out of all of the songs, I cannot now, nor have I ever been able to, listen to this one without crying. It cuts right through to my heart and exposes the pain and loss I feel every moment of every day. When The Rising tour began, my surviving son Buddy, age 11, and I attended as many shows as we could get to. Without fail, when I heard the first few notes of “You’re Missing,” I would make an excuse and leave until it was over.
On December 8, 2002, we managed to get general admission tickets for the show in Charlotte, North Carolina. Through a strange twist of magic, fate, and my son’s persistence, we found ourselves in the front row leaning on the stage right in front of Clarence. It was every fan’s biggest dream come true, but when “You’re Missing” started I knew I couldn’t excuse myself. I couldn’t leave my son there by himself and hide in the ladies’ room until I heard the opening bars of “Sunny Day”—we would have lost our spot.
My son looked at me and asked, “Mom, what are you going to do?”
“I’ll just have to tough it out,” I said.
He gave me a hug and we stood arm in arm watching Bruce, just swaying to the music with tears flowing freely down our faces as the waves of grief washed over us. As the last few notes of the song were playing, I looked up to see tears streaming down Clarence Clemons’s face as well. I thought at first I imagined it. Was it sweat? No, it was tears, I realized as I watched him wipe his eyes. My first reaction was that this must be a really sad song if he hears it all the time and it still made him cry. Then I realized that it wasn’t the song, it was us—a boy grieving for his brother, a mother grieving for her son—that caused those tears.
Bruce never takes you down in the valley without bringing you back up the mountain, and with the next song “Waitin’ on a Sunny Day” our tears dried. When it was over The Big Man took a few steps down to the “slide” level and leaned over, reaching out a hand to my son. Bud reached up to shake his hand and when he pulled back he was holding a small, shiny, black maraca. Bud was speechless as he stared first at the little instrument in his hand and then in wonderment at Clarence, who was looking down at him with a kindly smile. The Big Man didn’t say a word, just turned and put his hands together in a prayer position as he bowed to my “thank you.”
The Big Man, someone we have cheered and applauded for years, not only felt our pain but in some small way did his part to ease it. Had the show ended right then we would have gone home happy, but it didn’t. The magic of the night continued with a set list that seemed to have been written for us. Every note, every clap, every single stage slide is etched in my memory, all of it a joyous celebration of life.Finally, after a rousing rendition of “Santa Claus is Coming to Town,” it was over. The band was taking their final bows when Max Weinberg bounded out from behind the drum kit and made a beeline across the stage to us. With a big grin he handed his drumsticks to my son. It was an electric moment—his big brother’s hero, standing in front of him, offering this gift. For the first time in almost a year a smile spread across my son’s face. We left the arena with my son holding Max’s sticks in one hand and shaking Clarence’s maraca with the other, and both us walking about a foot off the floor. Yes, the pain was still there and always will be, but on this one night Max and The Big Man eased it just a little.
To purchase your copy of this "for the fans, by the fans" masterpiece, head to www.foryoubruce.com
*Image courtesy of seeger-tour
This time it's from up here (well, Montreal anyway). Check out this review in the Montreal Gazette.
There are roughly 220 other tales, and more than 400 photos, in Kirsch's self-financed and independently published marathon of memories.Apart from the moving, intimate entries, there are plenty of high-energy accounts of key Springsteen concerts, cherished albums or songs and unexpected brushes with the seemingly amiable artist. The stories and pictures go as far back as Springsteen's early group, Steel Mill, in 1970 and take the reader up to the present day.
June 28, 2003—Milan
Giuseppe Miroglio
It was June 28, 2003, in Milan, and Bruce was back to the San Siro stadium after 18 years. The night was a magical one. The band came on stage to the notes of an Ennio Morricone theme, followed by a powerful rendition of “Promised Land.” Then the rain started, but not a normal summer rain—a real downpour, a thunderstorm. Everybody was asking, “Who’ll stop the rain?” and Bruce did.
Bruce started remembering his first Italian appearance, when he was welcomed by “mille fans italiani, pazzi, molto pazzi” (a thousand Italian fans, crazy, very crazy). And when he finally said “siamo cresciuti insieme” (we grew up together) and started singing “Growin’ Up,” everybody in the audience started to cry.
To purchase your copy of this "for the fans, by the fans" masterpiece, head to www.foryoubruce.com
South Bend USA
Fall of 1996, Tom Joad Tour in Cincinnati
Dr. Damian D. Dieter
I had already been to two shows on this tour, but on a whim called the theatre in Gatlinburg to see if there were any tickets left. I was traveling there anyway, so why not. The woman at the ticket office informed me that they had just released seats in the orchestra pit and, if I’d like, I could have two seats in the second row center. Now, I had seen about 15 or so shows since 1985, but never had I had anything other than nosebleed seats.Being right there and hearing Bruce’s voice not from the speakers but from his mouth and gut was just amazing. If you listen to “Across the Border,” particularly the 
cries at the end, you know what I mean. The same can be said of “Long Time Comin’,” which at the time was still unreleased.Anyway, I knew that after “The Promised Land,” as he had done in Kalamazoo and Indianapolis, Bruce was going to put down his guitar, go to the front of the stage, wave, and then shake hands with a few of the people in the front row. During the last few songs I practiced my speech, knowing that I was about to have a ten second conversation with my favorite artist. Now I’m a relatively stable guy. I’m a board-certified surgeon, a pilot, and I play bass in a rock & roll band. Well, the moment of truth came. I walked up to the front of the stage and was the first person to put out my hand. I meant to tell this man how meaningful and important his music was to me. Instead, eye to eye, hand shaking hand, I blurted out “awesome” three times. Bruce laughed and said, “Kid, let go of my hand!” and I felt like Chris Farley interviewing Paul McCartney. Idiot!
To purchase your copy of this "for the fans, by the fans" masterpiece, head to www.foryoubruce.com
Istanbul Turkey
June 28, 2005—ICC Berlin
Ahmet Tulgar
The fact that I have been a Springsteen fan since 1978 is well-known in Turkey as I am a prominent journalist and columnist in my country. But because I was a political prisoner for four years during the military regime, I wasn’t able to get a passport until 2004. The Berlin concert in 2005 was the first Springsteen show I was able to go to, and the feeling of being able to not only attend the concert but attend it outside of my own country was absolutely liberating—I even rushed the stage!
I have gone through life accompanied by Bruce’s songs. But now, after having attended the Berlin concert and having been able to look into his eyes while he was singing and to watch his arm while he was playing his guitar, I sometimes miss him as a friend as well.
To purchase your copy of this "for the fans, by the fans" masterpiece, head to www.foryoubruce.com
