Grabbing the Horn by the Bulls at Boston Garden

Let’s see. I’m on the island of Nantucket one summer, where I had family who lived year round. I was hanging out with my old friend Eugene Grimaldi at the Chicken Box, where John Hammond was to play that night. Late in the afternoon, as we were standing at the bar, Eugene said, “I’m going to get you on the bill.” He went up to John during the soundcheck and said, “You should check out this kid.” John asked me to play a few songs, after which he invited me to open for him on the next two nights. I was all of 20 years old, I think.

The first night I played, a guy named Don Law came up after the first set and drilled me about who I was. He said, “You ought to come to Boston, since perhaps there is something there for you.” So I did. He signed me up as one of his management clients (a roster that included Livingston Taylor and The J. Geils Band at the time), and that began my introduction to the wonderfully fertile musical landscape of Boston in the early ’70s. Being under Don’s wing was a fortuitous place to be since he was involved in almost everything that was passing through Boston and the greater New England region. Youth is a beautiful thing, and I was fortunate to find myself in a blossoming environment where Bonnie Raitt, J. Geils, Aerosmith, Boston, “Spider” John Koerner, Reeve Little, Peter Bell, James Montgomery, Peter Johnson, Robin Lane and many more were hanging out in the midst of the best period I can remember. Boston was rocking.

Because of my association with Don, I was able to witness some surreal rock ‘n’ roll events. One of them was the night Don brought me to Boston Garden to see The Who. Don’s security crew “bulls” were linebackers and other players from Harvard’s football team, and they weren’t looking to make friends with the audience. In the middle of the band’s set, a man jumped onstage, grabbed John Entwistle’s French horn and dove back into the crowd with it. Don’s crew made short work of the guy and the French horn was soon back in its proper place. The show continued.

Not a half hour later, though, the same guy leaped back onstage, grabbed it again and dove back in the crowd. I don’t think he had much going on in his brain to try that move twice. Don’s linebackers were all over him, throwing the guy for a loss and regaining possession of the horn for a second time. I’m amazed to this day that somebody had it in him to try to get out of the Garden with Entwistle’s French horn. I’m sure security showed him the door after his second attempt, and I hope he was able to walk away in one piece after the linebackers piled on him.

(by Jon Pousette-Dart)

Jon Pousette-Dart has been a mainstay on the New England scene for more than 50 years, appearing across the region with his namesake band and as a solo artist.