I wonder what's going to happen to that ocean of kids who followed them everywhere. Many in that ocean wandered the Haight Wednesday, chanting, singing, crying, hugging, coping. The scene was closer to 1967 than 1995, as young people with long hair and colorful clothes took over the neighborhood. The biggest difference was that on this day, their parents, or even their grandparents, joined them in sorrow and communion. For many, including Gans and Silberman, the only thing approaching the commonality of a Dead show is the computer realm of cyberspace.
Deadheads are a natural for on-line life.
Much of the reason, Gans said, is economic. And cyberspace is the perfect place to coordinate tape trading and tour planning. As expected in a realm already saturated with Grateful Dead sites and conferences, the computer world was inundated with mourners Wednesday, as Deadheads reached out to one another for comfort. There was always a sense that what you were seeing was never to be repeated and that you were sharing this experience with those around you. The music spanned an incredible emotional breadth.