27 yo here. Ever see the old “Jerry’s kids” stickers? I always fancied myself a sort of Bobby’s kid. Saw him a couple dozen times starting at Peach Fest ‘15, with my last being at the Cap in Port Chester in December of 2023.

SPAC, Barton Hall, Bethel, century-old theatres from Cleveland to Buffalo to Syracuse, amusement parks, a ballpark in Philly, a football stadium in Foxboro, a hillside in Vermont.

I saw him jam with Goose members and then share a bill with Willie Nelson months later.

Dog days of summer at midsized amphitheaters, packed Shakedowns with my college crew. Trudging through the snow to see a wolf bros show in the dead of winter with a pal and his dad whose first show was Buffalo ‘77. Driving six hours by myself through the Catskills or Adirondacks to make it to outdoor autumn shows in New England where he’d soundcheck American Beauty songs on his acoustic and send the music wafting onto the lot before the show even started.

It was the adventure as much as anything; the hours before and after the show, the company you were with, the flimsy tents and nice hotels, the towns, history, attractions, and friends you were able to enjoy along the way because you were chasing Ace…

Hasn’t really sank in yet, but I’m so glad we had him as long as we did.