It Started on a Country Road and Ended with a Lifetime full Rocky Mountain Highs

I fell in love with John Denver the first time I heard "Country Roads" on the radio. The imagery struck me direct in the heart, and I wanted to be where he was, to see what he saw, feel what he felt and know that global perspective and respect for the environment. When I first saw that big smile, and heard his boyish laugh under those granny glasses, I couldn't help but feel the joy and laugh along. When he sang, I couldn't help but sing along. Heard only once, the words were there to stay forever. The imagery he painted was so inviting to this urban girl. I'd lay in bed at night, my transister radio plugged into my ear, under the blankets, imagining what he sang, that I was there, in the mountains, in the hills, laying in the meadows, sunshine and warmth all around me. It was a stark difference to my reality.

The more I listened, the deeper his love of the Earth grew in me. I wanted to "be a part of everything I see" in nature. I wanted to know what that was like. He sang of the mountains. I lived in the flat lands. I wanted to see a mountain with my own eyes. I lived near a lake, but now I wanted to see and feel an ocean and get to know the animals that lived there. My high school friends were into Queen, Kiss and the Rolling Stones. Not me, give me a John Denver ballad or fiddle reel anytime over that! The rockers I knew laughed and made fun of John, much like the media. I didn't care, there was a certain peace and connectedness I found in his music and with him.

I'd walk along the little creek near my house and now those feelings of excitement and joy at hearing the water rush over the rocks, seeing fish in the creek, feeling that the "animals could speak" were validated. There was someone else who experienced what I had been feeling and experiencing.. John made me feel not crazy. John helped me feel unique, different and that it was okay. People laughed at me when I shared my thoughts and feelings on nature around me. People laughed at John's songs and deep passion for the preservation of natural habitats and animals. I was in good company, and I didn't care what others thought anymore.

As this teen was maturing, so did my attraction to John. It wasn't as much a sexual attraction, though those feelings were there, but those soft brown, penetrating eyes that looked straight and deep into the soul as they actively listened or sang to the audience. Every time those eyes were in the camera, looking right at me, I felt, those eyes were really trying to say whatever it was to ME. It was the way he was, the way he treated others, how he intently listened to others that conveyed how much he cared about and for others. The words he wrote conveyed his hopes, wishes, loves and dreams, and the music he wrote conveyed how deep his passion, care and feelings ran. I could feel what he was feeling and that happened with no other artist I had listened to. His heart spoke/speaks to my heart. Was it all an act? Was it just for entertainment? Was it just to attract fans? I was to find that out on several occasions when I met John, one on one, personally.

The first time I "met" John was after a concert. I and a group of others waited outside the theater for about an hour. He came out the back door, got into a black limo. Sitting in the front seat, next to the driver, he had a white cowboy hat on his lap. His glasses reflected the street lights as they drove to the sidewalk before the street. Fans on both sides of the car, he waved, rolled down the window, right in front of me, reached out and shook and then kissed my hand. He looked right in my eyes, squeezing my fingers, ice cold from the crisp autumn air. I remember his hand was so soft and very warm. "How'd you like the show darlin'?" he drawled at me. I stood there stunned, but managed a reply, "Amazing, magical, thank you John. "No, thank YOU!", was the reply. He quickly, but slowly released my hand, his fingers lingering down mine on their way, as the window rolled up. He waved to all and the limo turned left toward the freeway and airport. Did that just happen? My one hand was cold from the November air. The other hand warm with the kiss and squeeze. It had happened, and I swore I'd never wash that hand again.

The next time I met John was at an indoor concert in the round. The stage was built so that it turned slowly at times during the concert so everyone could see the front of the stage at one time or another. I was lucky to have gotten a seat six rows from the stage. Six rows! I'd be able to actually see his face. And see his face I did. I could see how he timed each breath to coincide with the words of the song, turning so as not to breathe into the microphone. I could see his neck as he reached for those high notes and w did that kind of yodel-like thing, that only he could do. I could see his eyes how they welled with tears when he sang a new song he had written about the wind. I could see his face flush with emotion and the sweat beads roll down his cheeks. He could look directly at me and there was no doubt, it was at me, as I smiled and he smiled back. It was a magnificent show and had ran almost three or more hours.

After the show, I sat taking in everything around me as I waited for the crowd to move to the doors. I took pictures of the stage, the green plants, the guitars that John had played were on the round. I wondered if I had imagined that smile being at me. The mind does strange things when you are smitten! I walked slowly out of the arena, sorry that concerts had to end. I treasured the moments my head had 'Kodak-momented". I decided to take a side exit as my bus stop was on the other side of the building. I had to walk past a ramp where people were loading up equipment. A van pulled in front of me, y-turned, leaving a small space between me and the fence to squeeze through. Do I wait? or Do I squeeze through? I looked up at the ramp and what to my wondering eyes did appear, John! John Denver! Hands on his hips, red in the cheeks, a bit sweaty, It was summer and hot. His silky shirt half open, he looked down at me and said, "Now that was rude! Hi! I'm...." "John Denver," I finished his sentence with him. That laugh, that great laugh, hahaha, and reached down to shake my hand. "Were you at the show?" he asked. "What did you think?" "Yes, I think it was great. You were great! You sang so many songs. I don't know how you do it!" "Sometimes I'm not sure how we do it!" was the reply as he laughed again. He crouched down to sit down on the ramp, I standing next to his legs. Fluttering his shirt, he said "hot, but nicer out here". "You were close to the stage, about six, seven rows back, right?" "Yes! I was! wow!' I replied, blushing and obviously floored he remembered and even mentioned it. "You've a very sweet smile. Don't ever stop smilin', he said, as he leaned forward and kissed me on the forehead. "Here you go, Mr. Denver." a man was handing him a piece of paper. He got up quickly, took the paper, turned back to me, pointed and said, "Keep that smile, thank you, darlin' and he was gone. I swore I'd never wash my forehead again.

The next time I had an encounter with my crush, the country boy, John Denver, a couple or a few years had passed. It was the same city at a summer music festival. It had been a beautiful sunny day to be by the lake. The concert had been an amazing three hours, and he had played through all but ten minutes of it. A storm had come up with dark clouds and as the concert let out, the sky opened up with rain, then thunder and lightening.I had made my way around the stage toward the parking lot, when the wind kicked up and I was getting soaked and whipped around. It was like there was a tornado brewing. Suddenly, the back door to the stage popped open to reveal a blond head, those round glasses and a big smile. John! Oh my God, John Denver! He apparently was looking for his transport. Lightening crashed and the sky thundered, what seemed to be all around me. "Get in here! You shouldn't be out there right now!" He reached for my arm and beckoned me up the metal stairs. With a loud, "wham" the door shut behind me. I was back stage, my hair dripping wet, my clothes damp, looking straight into those bright, laughing eyes and big toothy warm smile. "A little wet?, he chuckled as I shook my arms sprinkling him and the floor with rain. "Oh my god, I'm sorry!" I blurted out and he replied with another laugh.

"Did you see the show?" he asked, handing me a small towel. "Did you like it?" I smattered out, "Oh yes, I loved it!" He laughed one of his good hardy ha, ha, ha's and asked,"What was your favorite part?" as he was brushing my wet hair out of my eyes and looking right into my soul. "Thank God I'm a Country Boy, your playing, your fiddling.....and You!" "Oh, thank you darlin, you're too kind!'" He leaned over and pecked me on the cheek. A horn blew outside the door. "That's for me" he said turned toward the stage crew and told them to let me stay til the storm let up. I thanked him. "No problem," was the reply. And out the door he went. John. John Denver had pecked me on the cheek. My heart was pounding, my insides felt strange, my soul had been touched and changed forever. I swore I'd never wash my face again. I still have that towel.

So, yes, he was as wonderful a person as he appeared. It wasn't an act, a show. He was down to earth, a really nice guy, like one I would forever want to meet and be with. Though later I would read about his personal problems with alcohol and marriage. He was forgiveable, because to me he was very human. He wasn't afraid to feel. He cared about others, the earth, the environment. Not only did he sing about his passions, he worked to change things through the political machine. He changed what he could with what he had been blessed. He wasn't afraid to be himself though others laughed and made fun of him in the rock and roll world. He stayed true. He gave me strength to be myself. He gave me and the world -- love.

John Denver, a crush? I'm sure many of you probably laughed and chuckled when you first saw who my crush was in my article. And you were probably going on what you have heard from the media. The media didn't always give John Denver a fair chance. I don't think they understood what he was about. He was so different from other performers in his time. To me, he is not a crush, but a love, a lifestyle and a way to be. I mourned when he died. I still listen and share his music to this day. I'm sorry that others did not get to know him and his spirit.