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This is my reply to an email on the GD Hour mailing list. The guy I was replying to is Lenny Stubbe, but as I say in the message, I’m not singling him out in my argument.

The boys sang about a lot of shit for a LONG time. Smiling, being kind, treating your brothers and sisters RIGHT.

Really? Which songs were about those values?

hearing of the circumstances surrounding Vince surface now that he is gone, whether or not it had anything to do with his suicide, is a very discouraging after pouring half of my life into this.

Vince had a very hard time of it, that is for sure. He and I had plenty of conversations about that over the years, believe me. But the list of people who’ve been fucked over by one or more (or all) of the Grateful Dead is as long as your arm and then some. No one who worked in or near the Grateful Dead had no illusions about the “family” values embodied and practiced around there.

The suggestion that Vince’s departure from Ratdog more than a decade ago can be considered the trigger for his suicide last week is the height of folly.

I knew Vince reasonably well, and I had a lot of really great musical adventures with him. I am deeply saddened by his decision to take his own life, but I knew him and these circumstances well enough to believe that it is not possible to isolate a proximate cause, nor is it fair to lay the blame at Bob Weir’s feet. Nor the GD organization’s, either.

Wasn’t that what the boys wrote about in the letter they handed me when I pulled up to the Deer Creek Music Center on July 3, 1995, with my paid in full mail order ticket in hand? Were they not asking us to act in a certain way? Did they not point out that crashing gates was NOT in the spirit of the Grateful Dead? Well business or no business, neither was the way they treated Vince.

You don’t know enough about what went on between Vince and them to judge. Period.

I’m not singling you out here, Lenny, but I’m responding to your statements because they are representative of a lot that I’ve read in the last few days.

I respect Mike Lawson’s comments, and I do not accept the actions of the surviving members of the Grateful Dead, towards Vince.

Mike’s post was made in the heat of emotion, and although he has said he stands by those sentiments, in our subsequent communications I have gotten the strong impression that he knows it’s more complicated than that.

I am sure Jerry wouldn’t either.

Jerry wasn’t the sweetest, most easy-going, kindest, most saintly motherfucker ever to walk the face of the earth, either, I’m afraid. “What Would Jerry Do?” is a vastly more complicated question than anyone out here could possibly answer.

Posted by The Rolling Rider on philzone.com:

2/21/51 – 6/2/2006
Our Brother
Vince Welnick

“Every song I’d learn was like opening a new Christmas present. I’d go home and listen to tapes and sometimes I’d be so elated that I’d have tears running down my face”. -Vince Welnick on learning the Dead’s repertoire

Elie Wiesel, Holocaust survivor, delivered my college commencement speech. Though we expected a talk of Auschwitz and other factories of death, he instead spoke of a navy admiral who had committed suicide over a few medals. His address ended with a hospital of children who had survived camps in 1945. When they realized the apathy of the world, then they let themselves slide into death.

The lesson: “Never allow anyone…” Wiesel urged, “…to feel that he or she has been neglected, abandoned by their fellow human beings.”

The wake of Vince Welnick’s sudden passing has brought with it, in this reporter’s humble estimation, speculation rather than sympathy, and comparison rather than compassion.

Let’s not lose sight of the fact that this was a human being.

Now, when you sign up to be a rock-n-roll musician, your work becomes an open book for the fans to rip through, so have at it. As David Gans said, “Like all the great teams, the Dead have their pennant years and bleak innings, perfect games and whippings, hits and foul balls, heroes and goats.”

Similarly, we all have our favorite keyboardist. Sure, Vinnie never bled blues like Pig, or was our working class hero like Brent. He was probably more akin to Keith, but either way, he sat in the proverbial hot corner, and took that seat when it was ever-so-absent.

But imagine, you finally make it, and here’s this font of talent, this foil of Garcia in Hornsby, waiting to grab any sliver of limelight, or deep purple, that Jer left slip through the cracks.

Many of my fondest memories of Jerry, sweeping up the denizens of Deadlands like dusty souls with his magic broom, were shared by Vinnie. Hell, he helped create them.

I think Vince’s plans A.G. best describe his persona: “I plan to carry on in the tradition of the Dead as much as I can, but respectfully and without trying to steal the thunder. I want to be with those people [Deadheads] and to serve the music, just like Jerry did”. Amen.

Statements just seem vain. Go take a listen to the 10/31/91 Oakland ‘Scarlet>Fire’, or the 93 Cap Centre breakout of ‘Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds’.

No one can say Vinnie didn’t serve the music.

We all grapple with our demons, and take things hard, like the death of The Old Man, or merely the everyday struggle.

Of course he described learning new Dead songs like Christmas presents. Vince remembered: “The first time I ever laid eyes on Jerry I believed in Santa Claus. He could be ornery at times, but that was his body talking, not his soul. Because I never met a kinder man in the whole world”.

“Everybody’s asking the big question, and love is the answer. And I’ll always believe in Santa Claus”.

Take Care of Each Other,
The Rolling Rider
6/4/2006

This is from a post by magicd on vincewelnick.com:

I had the honor of meeting Vince on stage the last time the Dead played the Boston Garden. I had seen Vince with Todd and I was a long time fan of the Tubes. I thought Vince was a technically superior musician. He seemed to be able to anticipate what Jerry was going to play. When Jerry soloed, Vince was like his shadow, supporting the parts and adding color.
In person Vince was friendly and real. He was as exited about the show and the music as we were.

Vince played though Brents old rack of gear. I thought that was really wierd. Vince had his own keyboards, but the sound modules that were being triggered were the same ones that had been in the rack for a long time. Bob Bralove was actually in charge of what keyboard sounds were being sent to the front of house mixer. I had a chance to listen to the house mix, but also to listen to what Vince had in his own ear monitors. Vince had separate control of what he would hear as compared to what the audience was hearing. At one point in a solo Bralove started adding synth tones to what Vince was playing. Vince got a disgusted look on his face and hit a pedal to turn that stuff off so he was hearing only piano and organ. Meanwhile the audience was hearing his parts with bells and synths and all kinds of stuff added. I just thought it was really strange that the keyboard tech would have more say over the sound than the actual player. That’s when I started to understand the dysfunctional family aspect of the Dead.

I did get the impression that Vince was treated like a hired hand, if not by band members, then definitly by some of the crew.
But Vince clearly loved the music. So did I and that’s why I went. The Grateful Dead were a huge part of my life and Vince represents some of the best parts of that.

That’s weird: “I just thought it was really strange that the keyboard tech would have more say over the sound than the actual player.” I gotta see if I can get any more info on this from Bob Bralove.

That whole discussion is worth a read. Some ugly and off-topic shit, inevitably, but many kind stories about Vince.

I took this photo on August 12, 1984, when I was working for Mix magazine. Vince and other members of The Tubes were playing on a Todd Rundgren album.