In the spring of 1966, I found myself on stage with the Beach Boys at a sold-out concert at the Boston Garden. It’s still one of the most memorable experiences of my life.
The exact chronology is a little fuzzy after 55 years, but the story begins with my younger sister, Krissie.
During the summer of 1962, Krissie spent several weeks with her cousin, Cindy, at Nantasket Beach in Hull, Massachusetts when an up-and-coming California band was playing at the old Surf Ballroom. They met the group, and Krissie started a long-distance friendship with one of the band members.
When she returned home, Krissie began calling Carl Wilson in California and talking with him on the phone for hours every day. A family crisis arose when a $600 long-distance phone bill came in the mail.
As you can probably guess, our father was not pleased. Our regular phone bill back then was probably $20 a month. He paid the bill but groused about it for years afterward.
The phone calls ended, but my sister’s passion for the Beach Boys didn’t. She bought all their records. She collected scores of magazines articles. Each time they performed in New England, Krissie finagled a way to attend their concerts. At 13, she wasn’t old enough to go by herself, but she convinced our parents that her older brother was a dependable chaperone.
Over the next 3 years, my wife and I attended 2 or 3 Beach Boys concerts a year. Krissie got free tickets for us to most of them, and we often ended up back at their hotel after the shows. We even brought our son, Brian, to meet them at Hampton Beach, New Hampshire when he was less than a year old.
It was my first exposure to a celebrity lifestyle that was both fascinating and overwhelming. Carl Wilson was not much older than Krissie. He was the youngest member of the group and a quiet, sensitive and talented young man who was overshadowed by his prolific older brother, Brian. He and my sister spent many hours talking.
The older members of the group, two of whom were Carl’s brothers, were into partying. Their hotel rooms were always full of groupies and hangers-on. Money was no object, and there was a never-ending supply of willing girls, alcohol and eventually drugs. The only supervision these five teenagers had was a road manager who seemed to spend most of his time bedding young groupies, too. It was a real eye-opener for me.
The last time we saw the Beach Boys play, Krissie and I went to the concert at Boston Garden. My wife was very pregnant with our daughter, so she stayed home. We met Carl at the hotel before the concert and went to the Garden with the band.
The Beach Boys were the biggest American band at the time, and the Garden was packed with 14,000 screaming fans. We were given chairs at the back of the stage and sat there for the whole show. Krissie was in heaven. I was in awe. The overwhelming adulation of their fans was something I had never before experienced.
The lifestyle took its toll, however, and the Beach Boys stopped touring soon after that. Drugs and legal disputes splintered the band.
Krissie and her husband, Dan, attended a reunion concert some years later. Dan was able to get a security person to pass a note to Carl, but they were unable to meet him. Carl and his brother, Dennis, have since passed away.
I always admired my sister’s determination. She was stubborn, opinionated and passionate in her beliefs. She was generous to a fault with both family and friends. She was a dedicated geriatric nurse. But the thing I will remember most about her is her love of the Beach Boys.
Krissie was one of a kind.
I wrote this for a memorial service for my sister following her recent death from cancer.
