Article Contributed by Dan Ward
Published on 2026-08-27
Joe Marcinek | Rockopelli | photos by Dan Ward
Life loves curveballs. Just when you’re convinced the world is made of white fluffy clouds and rainbows, fate steps in with a reminder that you’re not the one steering the ship. I was on my way to Crown Point, Indiana, for the annual Rockopelli event when that reminder arrived loud and clear. Storm damage lined I-94 — billboards flattened, trees twisted out of the ground — and just as I merged onto I-65, fate delivered the full wake-up call: a blown tire in the middle of traffic.
Life happens. We roll with the punches. People step up. And the music keeps playing.
That’s the spirit behind Rockopelli. Artists who once thrived in school music programs return to help today’s students chase their own dreams. Every year, Joel Ratajack and his team gather musicians from Indiana and beyond to raise money for future generations. This year? It started sizzling and went straight to white-hot.
First up: Chris Peters, the Highland, IN, phenom with charm for days and a band that hits like a freight train. Dolan Heard (drums), Jeff Wheaton (bass), and Max Pastore (sax) form a formidable engine behind Chris’s songwriting — because yes, he writes his own material, and he writes a lot of it.
He can take classics like “Easy Lover” or “Neon” and make them feel brand new, but his originals are where he shines. His setlist is nearly all Peters-penned tunes, each one upbeat, lively, and unmistakably his. “Home to You” floats; “Getting to Know Ya” funks; and his newest release, “Promises to Keep,” debuted at Rockopelli with the confidence of a song destined to travel far.
During set break, Mark Mybeck and John Carpenter of Nomad Planets take over the second stage. Both Indiana natives, both seasoned musicians, both delivering acoustic gems from their deep catalog alongside time-honored classics.
Then the main stage erupts again as the Bill Grady Band steps up to shred. Bill is a disciple of late-’60s/early-’70s rock and channels Jimi Hendrix with uncanny precision. His riffs are tight, his voice crystalline, and he happily encourages fans flashing fox ears during “Foxy Lady.”
He’s backed by Chicagoland’s premier bassist — and all-around wonderful human — Janis Wallen, with Mikey Schroeder locking down the rhythm section.
BGB launches into “Spanish Castle Magic,” “Hey Joe,” and “Third Stone from the Sun.” Mimicking the Experience is no small feat, but this trio nails the feel and fire. Bill’s guitar chops dance through Hendrix’s legendary grooves, and his Chicago blues take on “Red House” lights up the crowd. Deep cuts like “Little Wing,” “Bold as Love,” and “Voodoo Child” remind everyone why this era still rules.
After that adrenaline spike, fans drift toward refreshment. Bulldog Park is immaculate — clean, serene, and thoughtfully designed. A large covered area shelters food trucks and picnic tables, giving visitors shade while keeping them close to the music.
Under the canopy, a rock band from Hammond High School tears through classic tunes. This is Rockopelli’s mission in action: youth supported, youth inspired, youth rising. These young musicians are tomorrow’s headliners, and we’ll all be able to say we saw them at the start.
Nearby, merchants and civic groups fill the space with color. You can grab sweets, browse novelties, or even get a tattoo from The Hive’s mobile trailer. Charlie Bravo, a veteran outreach organization, is on site helping former service members reconnect with civilian life — a powerful example of community giving back.
Then the main event hits. Joe Marcinek takes the stage, and he brings an army of talent with him. The opening lineup features Nick Kazonis (guitar), Greg Ashby (harmonica), Kenny Kinsey (bass), Marcus Safirt (keys), and the thunderous drumming of Kofi Baker.
The talent is thick as early-winter fog. Nick and Joe trade licks; Kenny and Marcus deliver vocals with raw passion; and Kofi pounds out rhythm like the heartbeat of a dragon.
Joe rotates the lineup, pulling fresh talent into the spotlight. Raymond Pollais jumps in on bass. Jack Whittle arrives and absolutely detonates the stage — shredding, sliding, coaxing screams and songs out of his guitar. Joe even plays the Fender guitar up for auction, giving it a story before someone takes it home.
And Joe isn’t done. He brings a phalanx of guitar masters — Dan Soto, Ed Strudas, Jerry Clemons — each adding their own flavor of bends, runs, and lightning-fast precision.
Then the entire vibe shifts. Sharay Reed (bass), Calvin Rodgers (drums), Delven Lemar (Hammond organ), and the sublime pedal steel of Robert Randolph unleash a jazz-funk-blues fusion that feels like a different dimension. Add the soaring vocals of Jodi Rosenthal Pesich, and the field becomes a living, moving organism.
Darkness settles, the air cools, and the music keeps flowing. Fans get a show worth every mile traveled, and Rockopelli raises money to fuel the next generation of musicians. Joel and his team deliver a night of community, creativity, and pure joy — all powered by Crown Point’s Patron Saint of Funk, Joe Marcinek.
How committed is Joe? He drove 10 hours from Greenville, South Carolina, played the event, then drove back to keep his Southern fans dancing. That’s dedication.
Joe has a new album chronicling some of his finest work. Look it up — and look up every musician who graced the Rockopelli stage. Support them as they support the future.
And if some warm summer night you ever find yourself between Chicago and Indianapolis around a small town called Crown Point, check out Rockopelli. You’ll be glad you did.
