Nina has shared her thoghts, ideas and some personal experiences with Gene that bring him to life again...for all of us.  Thank you Nina  

To all Gene Clark fans:

I am going to tell you of my personal relationship with Gene over the years. He was a very special man and touched my heart in many ways. I still feel a warm love for him.

Although I have read other accounts of his life through the years I knew him, I can only tell you what I remember. The facts I give may conflict with other people’s memories, but I’m just relating what I saw through my own eyes. My apologies to those who remember things differently.

This is the first of three episodes.

 Meeting Gene Clark

I first saw Gene in 1963 when I was a Junior in High School. A boy from my school took me on a date to a folk music club in Westwood, which is the section of Los Angeles where U. C. L. A. is located. The club was called Ledbetter’s and it was owned by Randy Sparks, who was the manager of The New Christy Minstrels. Appearing at the club was a folk group called The Back Porch Majority. It was comprised of former members of the Minstrels and other folk performers, including Gene Clark and Chris Hillman.

The band came onto the stage while the lights were down, and as soon as the lights came back up and the performers started to play their music, I was riveted to the tall, confident, talented man I later found out was Gene Clark. His charisma and sensitivity were overwhelming. There were about six people in the group, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of Gene. The combination of his incredible talent playing the guitar, his soothing and melodic voice, the comfort and ease with which he addressed the audience, and his breathtaking good looks were enough to win my heart.

I started going back to the club alone at every opportunity just to see him. At Ledbetter’s on Monday nights they offered what was called a Hootenanny, which was an opportunity for local talent to perform in front of a live audience. The performers didn’t get paid, and the cover charge was only one dollar, so I found myself there every Monday night hoping to get a glimpse of Gene. I made friends with some of the other performers, but Gene was always elusive, off in his own world.

Randy Sparks rented a house in the San Fernando Valley, which was located over the hill from Westwood, where he provided room and board for the performers he managed, including The Back Porch Majority. I spent a lot of time in that house, giving rides to various people at the end of the night, and making friends with them. Gene kept to himself, rarely socializing with the others. He was always in his room working on new material while everyone else partied. But he was always kind to me and offered a smile and a shy "Hello" whenever I saw him.

Most of the girls who came to the house (which we affectionately referred to as the "Folk House") were much more sophisticated than I was. I was just a high school kid, so I was more like a mascot. However, with all those beautiful girls hanging around looking to hook up with a musician, I never once saw Gene show interest in any of them. He was like a man possessed by his music and his goal for success.

Ledbetter’s closed down in 1964, and the word was out that everyone was now going on Monday nights to a club called The Troubadour in West Hollywood. The Troubadour was strictly a folk music club at the time, and at the Monday night Hootenannies you could find The Kingston Trio and Hoyt Axton performing, among others. There was a small area in the front of the club with tables and chairs where unemployed musicians would gather to try and find ways to get jobs or just to chat with other musicians. It was in this little room one night that Gene Clark, Jim Mc Guinn, Chris Hillman, and David Crosby came up with the idea of forming The Byrds. I was lucky enough to be there that night, and we all decided to go see the newly released Beatles movie "Hard Day’s Night" at a theater in Hollywood. The guys were totally blown away by that movie and could hardly keep quiet in their seats. The energy level was very high. I had never seen Gene show so much enthusiasm before, and his smile lit up the whole theater for me.

The Byrds was formed that night, and now all of these acoustic musicians had the task of learning how to play electric instruments. And they had to find a drummer. I don’t know how they found Michael Clarke, but he was a perfect addition to the band.

At this point, Gene, Jim, Chris, David, and Michael vanished from the scene. They went off to perfect their music, and I thought I might have lost touch with Gene. But our paths were destined to cross again.

 My reunion with Gene Clark

After the success of the Beatles, many rock music clubs began opening in Hollywood. There were many rock bands forming and I found my way to those clubs on a regular basis. But all of the musicians had short hair patterned after the Beach Boys or the Righteous Brothers. And the new look was the Beatles hair cut.

One night, a girlfriend and I were talking to a friend at one of the clubs, and we asked him if he knew of any groups with longer hair. He told us that he did know of one such group and agreed to take us to their apartment and introduce us. You can imagine my shock when I walked into a room filled with Gene, Chris, David and Michael. It was a wonderful reunion all around. The Byrds had moved into Chris Hillman's apartment in West Hollywood. It was just a one bedroom apartment, and since it was originally Chris' place, he kept the bedroom and the other three guys slept in the living room. And this was a "small" apartment. Jim was married and had his own apartment with his wife Delores. There was always a sense of separation between Jim and the rest of the band. This was also the time when Jim changed his name to Roger. His spiritual master gave him the new name.

Since The Byrds had decided to pattern their look after the Beatles, they all had to have Beatles haircuts. This was simple for Gene and Michael, since they had straight hair, but David and Chris had to do some pretty strange things to their hair to get it to lie flat. Gene was happy to have me around again, and we spent more time together. He was still completely devoted to his music and his career. He kept his acoustic guitar near at hand at all times, and was usually trying to find a small space in the crowded apartment to strum and write, but that was rarely possible. It was amazing how he could be sitting in the crowded room with his guitar, oblivious to the people around him while he was totally engrossed with his music.

I visited him regularly, bringing food and booze I had raided from my parent's kitchen. He was always humble and appreciative. When the other guys would grab for the bag to see what I'd brought, Gene would stand shyly in the background and just thank me. He was so very thin at the time with his bones poking out all over. He drove a white MG and I drove a black Triumph. I always parked in the driveway with the rear of my car up against the rear of his car, and we used to laugh that it looked like they were having sex. I don't know how experienced Gene was at the time with sex, but I was still a virgin and we never even considered the possibility for us. We were friends.

I remember at Christmas Gene had found a crooked shabby little tree and brought it to the apartment. The boys decorated it with old guitar strings, capos, and whatever else they had hanging around. We all thought it was very festive! They never locked the door to the apartment, so I came and went as I pleased, dropping off supplies when they weren't there. One night I was depressed and needed to talk to Gene, but he wasn't at home. I left a little note on the tree with his name on it, and it was a very sad note. The next time I saw him, he was pretty angry. It was the only time I ever saw him angry. He was so worried that something bad had happened to me. That was the kind of person Gene was. He was sincerely concerned about his friends. Although he was a quiet and retiring person, his love ran very deep. He felt compassion for his friends, even though he usually couldn't find the words to express it.

The Byrds were set to showcase their music one Monday night at the Troubadour. Everyone was stoked, since this would be the first time they would be playing before a live audience. They had their Beatle haircuts and their Beatle nehru suits and looked cute as could be. Gene always stood out above and beyond the others. He looked so much more serious and sophisticated. The night was a fantastic success. All their practicing paid off, and I couldn't take my eyes off Gene in all his glory up on that stage, although he acted so humble and appreciative of everything. The bummer was that at the end of the night, all of their instruments and Beatle suits were stolen. It looked like The Byrds were going to have to regroup and reassess. Gene wasn't sorry to lose the Beatle suit at all. He never felt comfortable in that get up, being a country boy at heart. It's probably a good thing that they stopped trying to look like the Beatles, as their music expanded from then on.

After a few local performances and some TV appearances, The Byrds skyrocketed to success, and Gene flew away from me. But my love for him never died, and our paths were to cross once again.

 A Final Episode with Gene Clark

I had known the members of a bluegrass group called The Dillards for a few years. They had performed in Los Angeles and had a few record albums released. In 1968 Doug Dillard was living in a house in the Hollywood Hills, and he had parties there all of the time. He really liked having people around him. He was a very sensitive guy who always seemed to have a smile on his face. He was also an accomplished banjo player.

One night, after the other guests had left, I decided that I didn’t want to go home. Doug was more than willing to share his bed with me, but once I crawled under the covers I realized that I liked him too much as a friend to entertain the idea of having sex with him. He just smiled, as usual, and I left his house.

I didn’t have a car at the time, and I found myself walking down the hill without any idea of where I was going. Then I remembered that Gene Clark lived in a house on the next hill. I had been there once for a brief visit after he left The Byrds. So I trudged down one hill and up the next to Gene’s house, but when I arrived I found that he wasn’t home. The house was built on the side of a hill and the garage was right on the street. The garage door was open and I saw his red Ferrari parked inside. He usually drove his MGB around town, and kept the monster sports car for special occasions. The idea of sleeping on the hood of his car was too great an urge to pass up, so I stretched across the hard metal like a model in a photo shoot and drifted off. When I woke up, I found that Gene had come home but had not discovered me sleeping there. It was way too early in the morning to disturb him by knocking on the door. I sat on the curb in front of his house listening to the birds and watching the cars traveling down the hill until I thought it was an appropriate time to awaken him.

He came to the door with sleep still in his eyes, and I realized that I had disturbed his sleep, but he was as open and friendly as if I was an invited guest and he had overslept. He crawled back under the covers, and I sat on the edge of the bed as we spoke. He told me that his girlfriend had just broken up with him, and he was not at all happy about it. Gene was attracted to tall, blond, leggy models, but he was so gentle and loving that those types of women just chewed him up and spit him out. It was very sad.

He asked me why I had dropped by, and I told him that I had been at Doug Dillard’s the night before and decided to come by and visit him. As soon as I mentioned Doug’s name, Gene’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. He was beside himself with excitement. He asked me if I knew where Doug lived. I told him that of course I did, since I had been there many times. Gene then asked if I would take him over there. How could I refuse Gene anything? He was up like a shot, showering and dressing and rushing me to his car.   When Doug opened the door, his face showed shock and amusement. He gave me a mischievous grin like he wondered what the hell I was up to. How did I know? They bonded instantly like brothers. We followed Doug into the kitchen where he proceeded to pop open a can of beer. Doug had a very serious drinking problem. He had been hospitalized for damage to his liver by his constant drinking of alcohol, but he just laughed when the doctors told him that he would be dead within two years unless he stopped. Gene was aghast that Doug would start his day with a beer. I had never known Gene to drink alcohol or take any drugs.

Gene was determined to get Doug on the right track, so he gently removed the can of beer from Doug’s hand and suggested we all go out to breakfast. In the restaurant, Gene and I ate while Doug just pushed the food around on his plate and took a few bites. At this point Gene was so excited to be with Doug that he forgot all about his misery over his lost girlfriend. They spoke of music and their careers non-stop. It was the beginning of their journey into the Dillard and Clark Expedition, though they weren’t aware of it at the time. From then on, Gene and Doug became like they were joined at the hip. They hung out together constantly. There was a strong love and bond between them which was amazing.

The parties continued at Doug’s house, and Gene was always there. He was riveted to Doug’s every word. They spoke, played music together, and found enjoyment in everything they shared.

One night, there were a bunch of people at the house who were like groupies. They laughed in all the right places, and it was apparent that they were totally into being around "star" musicians. Doug had a little devil in him, and couldn’t resist an opportunity to play a gag. He pulled out an electronic contraption which was sold to people who were trying to lose weight. It was a box which plugged into the wall with a dial on it, and there were two cords with foam-covered sensors on the ends. The original idea was to place the sensors on a part of one’s body then turn up the dial which would cause the muscles to contract. This was supposed to be an easy way of exercising while sitting down. Doug plugged in the machine, went over to one of the guests, and placed a sensor in each of his hands. Then Doug started turning up the dial. The gag was to see how long the person could hold onto the sensors before dropping them or screaming from pain. Of course, no one knew this except Doug and I. The guests tried to keep up with Doug, pretending that they could take it. Their smiles soon turned to grimaces as they each opted out of the little game, but they wanted to be around Gene and Doug so badly that they would endure anything. It was all just fun, and Doug never hurt anyone. Then Doug placed the sensors into Gene’s hands. As Doug started turning up the dial, Gene went over and placed the sensors on the sides of Doug’s head! They both started laughing hysterically, and it was as if that incident bonded them even more.

One night, I arrived at Doug’s house before the others and the door was locked. I walked to the back of the house where there was an apartment where another friend, Bill, lived. His door was never locked, so I went inside, curled up on his rocking chair and soon dozed off. I awoke to Gene’s beautiful voice coming through the wall from Doug’s room. He was playing acoustic guitar and singing "It’s All Over Now Baby Blue". It was one of the most beautiful experiences of my life, and I will never forget the way his voice caressed me and took my spirit soaring through the cosmos.

I couldn’t move and could barely breathe. Eventually I came back to reality and made my way into the main house, and the smile planted on my face would not disappear.

Many nights it was just Gene, Doug and I in that house, while the two of  them worked out songs and laughed together. I am not a musician, so I could not tell you which songs they were working on or what they were doing, but I’m sure most of them were recorded on their record album. The connection between Doug and Gene was magical.

Then came a point in my life when I had to get on with finding my own way. Something else was calling to me, and I stopped hanging out with them. I was never to see Gene again in this lifetime, but I heard about his career off and on through the years. My love for him always remained. It was a strange day when I heard a short news brief on the radio that Gene had died. At first, I thought I had been mistaken, but then the stark reality hit me like a ton of bricks. I broke down and cried for my loss and the world’s loss of such a wonderful, talented, and compassionate individual. He will always live in my heart.

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