Article Contributed by June Jameson
Published on 2026-06-26
Sister Lakes Brewing Family
It's easy to see why David Gans chose the Midwest for a four-night run with David Gans & the Broken Angels after spending time with Aging Gratefully: Deadheads Now and Then. The book is rooted in a part of the Grateful Dead experience that has always felt most at home in the heartland: community. Most of the portraits are from here in the Midwest, too.
All the freaky people make the beauty of the world.
Between 1988 and 1991, photographer Bill Lemke set up a tie-dye backdrop in the parking lots outside Grateful Dead shows, hoping to capture portraits of the people who made up the scene. It wasn't always easy. There were too many narcs, too much suspicion, and not everyone wanted to stand still long enough to have their picture taken. Even so, Lemke created nearly 150 portraits before packing away the backdrop.
Decades later, those photographs became the foundation for Aging Gratefully. David Gans joined the project as an oral historian, reconnecting with many of Lemke's subjects to tell the stories behind the faces. Together, the portraits and interviews become something larger than nostalgia. They document not just a band, but a community that has continued to grow older without losing its sense of wonder.
That creative partnership doesn't end on the printed page. Gans is, of course, a musician, and after helping preserve these stories in print, he climbed back onstage with the Broken Angels for a four-night Midwest run through Aurora, Illinois; Milwaukee, Wisconsin; Dowagiac, Michigan; and a final performance at Garcia's in Chicago.
I caught the Saturday night stop at Sister Lakes Brewing in Dowagiac, MI, during the brewery's 10th anniversary celebration. Before a note was played, the smell of fresh ink from a newly printed hardcover had already pulled me into the world these musicians and storytellers share. It’s a world built on songs, photographs, conversations, and the simple act of showing up for one another.
In an era increasingly dominated by algorithms, endless scrolling, and machine-generated content, Aging Gratefully feels like the antithesis of rage baiting. It asks you to slow down, to look someone in the eye, to turn a page instead of swiping a screen, and to remember that communities are built person by person, story by story. It drives with curiosity and wonder, not shame and embarrassment. As the song reminds us, we can discover the wonders of nature.
David Gans and the Broken Angels
That's exactly what I found that weekend in Sister Lakes. The best part of the opening set from David Gans and the Broken Angels was seeing some of my favorite Midwest musicians, Joe Day on keys and Brett Baxter on drums. Janis Wallin, in her 19 bands (that may be a generous estimate), is best known for her work with Family Groove Company, but on any given day, you will see her on stage with a variety of other bands. She is one of those musicians who seems to exist at every crossroads of the Midwest jam scene. Her bass playing brings life to so many projects, from Family Groove to Talking Heads cover bands to theater pit orchestras. She has a bass. Will travel.
The Broken Angels, of course, covered a catalog of Grateful Dead tunes, blended with a Beatles song, and one of my favorite Gans tunes, “It's Gonna Get Better,” off his 2008 album The Ones that Look the Weirdest Taste the Best. This rotating cast of characters was Midwest through and through. Mastermind David Gans knows how to pick 'em!
Mr Blotto: The Embodiment of the Midwest Dead Scene
Mr Blotto headlined the show. If you're unfamiliar with Mr. Blotto, you probably haven't spent much time in the Midwest Deadhead community. They are the region's definitive live band, carrying an enormous songbook with remarkable consistency while never losing the joyful improvisation that connects with us deadheads. 10 albums worth of original music seamlessly weave into the sets.
Sister Lakes Brewing featured Blotto's original, “One Puff.” They opened with “Sugaree” and later in the second set, “Wolfman’s Brother,” as if we were seeing Phish at Alpine Valley with much shorter lines and less steep incline. The evening concluded with the whole brewery team on stage doing The Band’s “The Weight.” The sit-ins might get sloppy, but it's all pure bliss. From the audience to the stage, we all sing along. That is the power of community!
Aging Gratefully: Deadheads Then and Now
As much as I enjoyed the music, I kept finding myself drawn back to the book waiting in my bag. The concert and Aging Gratefully weren't separate experiences; they were in conversation with each other. Every face in the audience made me wonder what their portrait might have looked like thirty-five years ago, and what story David Gans would have uncovered if he'd sat down across from them today. It's quite the feeling of standing on the shoulders of giants.
That's the quiet power of Aging Gratefully. It reminds us that every tie-dye, every dancing body, every weathered smile belongs to someone whose life extends far beyond a setlist.
On page 25, we meet Marissa. Bill Lemke's portrait catches a bright smile, an easy confidence, and a spirit I immediately recognized. Then comes the quiet note that she died in 2021. No explanation. It was just enough to remind me that time has continued moving since the shutter clicked. 2021 wasn't too long ago. Suddenly, the project isn't simply about remembering the Grateful Dead. It's about remembering each other. I see myself in her. The spirit, the smile, the way she wore her shirt. We move on to JJ, who looks just like my friend Ben Storm. The boards of jewelry, friendship bracelets, hemp necklaces, bootleg tee shirts, and the medicine bundles are all symbiotic within the community. Each relic is so skillfully captured.
“The music was like a magnet in the background” - Jayanto Bhikkhu (formerly Chris)
Thanks to David Gans's retelling of these stories, Pamela and Paula describe themselves as the gals I wish I were. Recounting their time at GD50 in Chicago, Pamela says, “It was such a feeling of confidence when I looked around at all of us Deadheads still here, still showing up.”
You don’t see folks like Wendy anymore. In her portrait, she was wearing a headband with a sign affixed that read, “I need a ride to Chicago tomorrow.” Ah, how I wish the eye contact like that were still abounding. Now we post something and stare at our phone. It’s so much easier to scroll on by than to walk on by. The portrait of Yum Yum has him brandishing tickets in his hand for Rosemont Horizon, 4/13/89. You don’t see prices like that anymore, either. $19.50 for a major arena show?!?
As Panda remarks, the B&W portraits really bring out the emotional clarity. Bill Lemke and Tom Fritz preserved these moments. David Gans preserved the lifetime that followed. The time of our lives is zooming on by. You weren’t there, but I saw you anyway. What a quantum leap from saving yourself under a tarp from the UV rays on day 18 of tour to now. Now we livestream shows from our couch. Tom Fritz's photographs also adorn the book with incredible lot scene photographs that bring that sunburn sizzle right back to memory. Tom calls the whole shebang, the wide world, the creative assortment that heeds the call - The Dead. It’s the broadest term possible for not just the musicians but the entire community. Still here, still showing up, still wild with dreams for the future.
How incredible to write about the writer David Gans. To push the world forward and not forget where we came from, the part that drives us all is the accessible, relatable, grassroots movement of it all. It's pretty fun to take part in the conversation. These photographs in my hands aren’t simply a portrait from the parking lot outside a Grateful Dead show. They are a reminder that every face in Bill Lemke's collection carries a lifetime between that moment's capture and today. Don’t tell me this town ain’t got no heart. You just gotta poke around!
