Buddy Holly- A Rock and Roll Legend

Fifty years ago, the world lost a pioneer, someone who was to influence the music that followed him.

On February 3, 1959, Buddy Holly got on board a plane. He had just finished at the Surf Ballroom in Clear Lake, Iowa and was on his Fargo, North Dakota.

It was not long after the plane took off that it crashed killing Holly, Richie Valens, J.P. Richardson (a.k.a. The Big Bopper) and pilot Roger Peterson.

While the music did not die that day it did suffer. Even though Holly was only around for a short while his contributions to Rock & Roll live on.

He was born Charles Hardin Holley on September 7th, 1936, in Lubbock, Texas. He learned to play guitar, piano and fiddle at an early age. A name change to Buddy Holly and a shift away from country to rockabilly followed.

I was only 12 when Holly died in that plane crash and had just begun to listen to rock & roll. One of my friends had an older brother. He was 16 and my friend and I would try and hang around when the older brother and his buddies played their records. We’d soon get chased away, especially if the parents were out and girls came over, but I can still hear Holly singing Peggy Sue and That Will be the Day.

A year, maybe two, passed before I had a record player of my own and a few bucks to spend on 45s. My parents’ basement became a dance hall on Saturday afternoons as Mom and dad put up with the songs wailing from the basement.

Elvis was king but one day one of the basement regulars brought over two Buddy Holly 45s. Peggy Sue and Every day were on one and on the other was It Doesn’t Matter Anymore and raining in My Heart.

Buddy had returned to my life. We played them over and over, perhaps influenced by the fact that Christine and Diane couldn’t get enough, of Buddy, that is. It was a marvelous afternoon.

I was listening to Peggy Sue today and the magic is still there. Thank you Buddy, for the many memories and the great music, that just may have helped changed a generation.