“They want a book?” She nodded, squinting. She seemed to be searching my face for something. “If I’m gonna go back to that music, to me and to Nev and your daddy, to doing interviews again and whatnot, it seems like a decent place to start.” And so on that pleasant night in Opal Jewel’s garden, I charted in my head the book I would write—the definitive unpacking of the whos, hows, and whys surrounding the riot that killed my father and shot his weird friends and bandmates into our consciousness. I would report it as the latest volume in our Aural History series, chronicling the origins of rock
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