Greg McLoughlin is a musician from Jersey City who recently released the single “Ballad Of A Well-Known Pen.” The former member of BuzzUniverse and Scarecrow Collection had a memorable experience that took place 18 years ago today and has shared a heart-warming remembrance.

“Sleeper Shows”

On every Phish tour, for as long as I can remember, there are shows in either remote venues, or early in the week, that generate a buzz as the one “not to miss.” Sometimes these shows turn out to be underwhelming. In other cases, the fans who put in the extra miles are rewarded with legendary performances. But the simple fact is, you never know which one is going to be special. And some of the most special ones, for me at least, seem to be largely forgotten.

The 1997 Philly run is one of them. On a Tuesday and Wednesday in early December, Phish descended on the Spectrum, and this was the highlight of what I call my “miracle tour.”

“Mail Order Miracle”

In September of 1997, I had the unfortunate experience of losing my father at way too young of an age. He had been in a car accident, and spent two weeks in a coma before finally succumbing from his injuries. Fall tour mail order was a few days after the accident, and I probably wouldn’t have submitted it if it weren’t for my mother insisting how important it was for me to carry on with everything I loved. So I submitted my mail order, then literally did not think about Phish for weeks, as we prayed for my father’s recovery, and he was ultimately taken from us.

Dad’s funeral was on a beautiful September day. After the services, a few dozen close friends and family members gathered at our house for a get together in his memory. At some point, someone grabbed me and said, “An envelope just arrived for you from FedEx.”

Yes, literally DURING my father’s send off, the FedEx guy showed up. When I opened the envelope, I saw floor tickets for almost every show on Fall Tour, the best tickets of all being second row center for the December 2nd Philly show.

“Buried Alive”

I rarely hear people talking about Phish’s show on December 2, 1997. To me it wasn’t just special because, as my buddy Steve “TheVic” said to me, “We could literally hand Trey a cup of coffee right now,” – it was also special because it was one of many shows where spontaneity and risk taking were the order of the day.

Any show that starts with “Buried Alive” is almost guaranteed a to be a scorcher. Much like Widespread Panic’s “Action Man” (before they added lyrics), “Buried Alive” is one of those perfect, short, fierce jams that sets the bar high right out of the gate. Could’ve guessed, but couldn’t beat the “Down With Disease” that followed, nor “Makisupa”, “Chalk Dust,” “Ghost,” “Divided Sky,” “Dirt” or “Taste” (was that really just the first set?), only to wrap with the band singing the “Star Spangled Banner,” underneath Philadelphia Flyers banners in the original United States Capitol.

“Dog Faced Boy”

The standout moment of this show for me, however, was three songs into set two, when Phish played the only performance I know of” Dog Faced Boy,” that had a groove. This set kicked off with “Mike’s Song” into a hard driving rendition of “Simple. “When they were coming out of “Simple,” Phish settled into a mellow country groove, and my close-up view was great witness to the interaction on stage, and how they spontaneously layered a beautiful and unusual version of “Dog Faced Boy” on top of it. As this wrapped they stayed in groove and found a way into “Ya Mar,” and then eventually “Weekapaug Groove.” These were the last real standout moments of the night, but it is moments like that that have kept me, and so many of my fellow Phish fans, coming back.

“A Little Nudge”

From the very first time I did Phish Mail Order, for Halloween 1995 in Chicago, through all of the years after, I always got average seats. Sometimes very good, much more often lawn, upper level, or nothing at all. I never really complained, it’s just always been that way. I have never cast a shred of doubt on the thought that my departing Dad’s spirit hightailed it to the Phish Mail Order office’s in Vermont and moved my submission to the top of the pile that year. I had never gotten that lucky before, and never did again. But sometimes, during the toughest of times, small miracles do happen.