The Final Show
In August 1969, Andre Rochefort and the Freedom Riders performed on day three of the legendary Woodstock Pop Music Festival on Yasgur’s Farm in Bethel, New York. The band’s performance of their #1 hit song, ‘Live Free,’ energized over 400,000 young people to believe in their right to freedom. That performance was also the last time the band ever played together.
Twenty-five years had passed, and Andre had still not agreed to perform a reunion concert. He had become a recluse, hiding out on a Caribbean island from tenacious law enforcement officials and aggrieved former husbands and fathers. You see, Andre had set up an underground highway that helped American women living in abusive relationships escape to Montreal with new Canadian identities and promises of a better life. However, the police considered Andre’s actions to be a case of criminal kidnapping.
Recently, Andre had a difficult conversation with his doctor, which changed his mind about a reunion.
Andre had lost touch with the original band members, so he asked Jacques Fontaine, the band’s original Manager, to reach out to the band and discuss the idea of a final reunion performance.
Mad Max, the original drummer, had lived a hard and fast life, which caught up to him when he died in a high-speed chase with police. Max had one son, Mikey, who had inherited his Dad’s talent for playing the drums. Mikey would be honoured to join the band.
Danny Boy, the lead guitarist, had moved to Ireland, his ancestry home. He became a gentleman farmer but still owned a vast collection of guitars that he played on a regular basis. He eagerly agreed to play a show, provided everyone else agreed.
Jabari, the bass player, settled in Montreal and became heavily involved with the local Jamaican community, helping youth discover soul music. He, too, was ready to perform again.
Monique became the most difficult to convince. The band’s rhythm guitar player had remained heavily involved in the cause of abused women. She expressed grave concerns about Andre’s safety if he performed in public but agreed to defer to his decision.
Then there were the three backup singers, known as Charlotte, Betsy and Laurel. They were the first women that Andre helped to escape and settle in Canada. In fact, Charlotte became Andre’s wife. For decades, the three women secretly ran an underground railroad for abused women, so they politely declined Andre’s invitation over concerns about being arrested by police.
The band reached an agreement to play one night at the Grand nightclub in downtown Montreal, housed in a former 1920s ballroom with the arches, domed mosaic ceiling, stone columns and balconies still intact. The guest list would be by invitation only, and on-site security would be extensive. No media would be advised or invited.
During the first rehearsal, the band found its groove very quickly, and the music flowed as if no time had passed. Maybe Andre’s voice couldn’t hit the same high notes, and the guitar players didn’t move around the stage quite so gingerly, but the sound that came out was good, and they rejoiced in rekindling their karma and burying old wounds.
The 250 invited guests for the Friday night performance at the Grand nightclub were making good use of the two bars while they eagerly awaited the show. Andre and the band were in a back room, fine-tuning their instruments. Charlotte was backstage and massaged the tension in her husband’s shoulders.
The show started at 10 pm, and the band rocked the crowd for over two hours. The music sounded great, and each band member played with a long-lost passion. After the band played their final song and left the stage, the crowd chanted for an encore because they had yet to hear the band’s most famous song.
Andre and the band re-took the stage and started to play “Live Free’ to loud cheers from the audience. Andre got to the chorus, and you could hear an emotional intensity in his voice:
Live free on this highway of sound,
With the wind in our hair and the thunder around.
We’ll break through the walls and let the music ignite;
In the rhythm of rebellion, we’ll live free tonight.
As Andre sang the last word, a loud bang reverberated in the cavernous ballroom. There was a second bang, and people panicked; someone had a gun. The band stopped playing, and Jabari, Monique and Danny Boy dived to the floor of the stage. Guests bolted for the exit doors.
Andre stood still and looked directly at the man standing in front of the stage with a gun pointed at him.
“Who are you, and what do you want?” demanded Andre.
“You stole my wife Charlotte, you long haired freak, and it’s time you paid for my pain and suffering,” said an aging Herman Marshall from Mobile, Alabama.
Charlotte walked out from backstage and said to her ex-husband, “You bastard, you abused me over 30 years ago, and I’ve had to live with that trauma my whole life. Get the hell out of here right now.”
“Once a whore, always a whore Charlotte,” Herman said, slurring his words.
“How did you find out about our concert?” asked Andre
“The cops told me they had found where your Manager lives, and I followed him here.”
The private security guards crept behind Herman, determined to end the standoff without bloodshed. At that moment, maybe sensing the end, Herman raised his gun to fire at Charlotte.
Andre jumped off the stage and leapt in front of Charlotte, taking the full force of the bullet just above his heart. The security guards tackled Herman to the ground and bound his hands while Andre lay still on the dance floor.
A ballroom that had just been crowded and filled with loud music was now eerily quiet. Jacques rushed to press his shirt on the gaping hole in Andre’s chest that was leaking blood. Charlotte almost fainted due to the metallic smell of Andre’s blood, and her ears rang from the echoes of the gunshot.
Andre’s eyes fluttered, and he tried to speak, but words couldn’t come out. He shuddered, and a gasp of air escaped his lungs. He saw his bandmates kneeling beside him, and he gave a thumbs-up as he left this world to ‘Live Free’ from the pain of brain cancer.
Charlotte’s screams of grief filled the silence, and in a rage, she grabbed Herman’s gun off the dance floor and pointed it at him. She said, “Say hello to the Devil for me, asshole,” as she pulled the trigger.
