On August 29, 1976, Bill and I went to see Kiss at The
Atlanta, Fulton County Stadium. Some guy named Bob Seger opened the show, early
in the afternoon. It was a very hot day. The show was general admission and
coolers and blankets were allowed. Apparently, nearly anything was allowed. The
only thing I could compare it to would be Woodstock. We had 40,000,
out-of-control fans and a handful of security guards who just tried to stay out
of our way. Imagine having every rebellious teenager from Georgia, in one
location, for one day.
Let me back up to the wait. Before the doors opened, the
crowds gathered outside. We had a decent spot, near the gates. The midday heat
was relentless. It was August in Atlanta; need I say more? People were passing
around cold drinks of whatever they had in their coolers. At first, I thought
to myself, “I’m not gonna drink after total strangers.” The heat was so
unbearable; I finally took a sip of something as it passed by. I was only 12
and I probably should have inquired about the contents, but it was cold, so I continued
to take sips as cold drinks came around.
When the crowd appeared to swirl, I started feeling
nauseous. But the doors opened and it was time to run. Bill was carrying a
huge, red cooler and we had blankets too. We ran and were followed by the
crowd. In retrospect, it was a dangerous moment. But we made it. We ended up just
to the right of the pitcher’s mound. Had there been actual rows, we might have
been on the fifth or six row, just to the right of the stage. It was perfect.
To our right, behind a row of four-foot-high, chain-link fences, was a massive
tower of speakers. I’m going from memory, but the speakers were about 30 inches
each and the tower must have been 30 feet high. Georgia State University has
images of that day in their archives. The images were taken by an Atlanta
Journal Photographer.
Bob Seger, and his newly assembled, Silver Bullet Band took
the stage around 3:00 PM. Audience members who could not take the heat were
excused. The mob would carry them overhead and dump them over the fence in a
grassy area beside the massive speaker-tower. Several people took “naps” over
there for the rest of the show.
38 Special took the stage. The crowd was rowdy for their
entire set. I remember some parts of their set, but most of it was drowned out
by the crowd noise. Johnny and Edgar Winter was just a little louder, but it
was getting hotter and muggy. It was miserable by the time they got on stage.
Finally, Blue Oyster Cult took the stage and the sun started
going down. Before the band started playing, Buck Dharma threw an entire six-pack
of Bud into the crowd and told us to enjoy it and cool off. He immediately regretted
it, saying, “I hope that didn’t hit anybody on the head.”
After they played their hit, The Reaper, the crowd was
finally paying attention to the stage. The stage, meanwhile, was being prepared
for Kiss.
Finally, after about thirty minutes of prep, the band
emerged and walked on stage while flames and smoke lit the entire stadium. Lights
were flashing and the gigantic speakers started buzzing loudly. When I say
loudly, I mean it shook the ground. The vibration of the initial hum was the
result of Ace Frehley’s Humbucking pickups and Gene Simmons’ low E, string,
left open and vibrating for effect. I could see the speakers pulsing with the
sounds. I was actually worried about our “seats”. We were very close to those
speakers.
“You wanted the best, and you got the best, the hottest band
in the world; KISS!”
As soon as those words shot out across Atlanta, Kiss went
into Detroit Rock City and I don’t know how the entire stadium didn’t go up in
flames. Explosions, fire, smoke, lights and drums! The music was so loud that when
Bill tried to say something, I had to try to read his lips; but it was no use.
After the first song, Paul Stanley came to the microphone and said, “They don’t
call this Hotlanta for nothing.” And Peter Criss beat the drums for emphasis.
Nevertheless, the show went on. It was, and remains, the best
show I have ever witnessed. I was deaf for a few days afterwards, but it was worth
it. Explosions, fire, smoke, lights, cables, drums, burning guitars, smoking
guitars, elevating drums, sirens. I’ll never forget the beginning of Firehouse,
when Paul Stanley came out, wearing a fireman’s helmet, with fire and smoke
covering the stage’ sirens going off, red lights and flashing lights.
After that song, Gene Simmons breathed fire, shooting it all
the way across the huge stage. Ace did a long solo. Peter Criss sat on a drum
and sang Beth. There was everything a 12-year-old could ask for. There was
blood, fire, smoke, loud guitars, loud drums and so much more.
I’ve lost count of how many Kiss shows I have been to since
that show in 1976. I have never been disappointed at a Kiss Show.
In fact, 45 years later, Bill and I returned to the scene of
the crime and saw them one last time on October 10, 2021. Believe it or not, it
was better than the show in 1976.
Kiss hasn’t just been my favorite show; it has been a part
of my life. I’m grateful for having had the experience of Kiss. Bill took me to
my first and last Kiss show; he gets it.
As I write, the very last stage is being set for the final Kiss
show. They play at Madison Square Garden at 7:30 PM tonight. The band has been
doing these shows for 50 years and it is time.
Gene, Paul, Peter and Ace, thank you for these years of
rocking all night long and partying every day!!
