Hey, my Brothers & Sisters, this one has really proved to me how small this country, world, and existence is.  It was fall of 1994. I was traveling in this rusty light blue 1962 VW microbus that belonged to my friend Nate. At this time, we were in Georgia. We arrived late for the show (probably due to van troubles), and it was just about over. 

I was looking for this beautiful sister that I had gotten arrested with days earlier in Orlando. It was a really magical evening... we met Trey, I fell in Love, and ended the evening with my 1st time in Jail. Anyhow, I finally found her. She was living in Georgia at the time, so she said that we could all crash at her place. All of us being the six of us in the VW, another VW with four, and an escort with four. So we had about twenty kids crashing in a one bedroom apartment. 

We get back there and the festivities begin. There were various drugs there cause one of the vans happens to be made up of HIGH ROLLERS coming off of DEAD tour. Anyhow, we were drinking beers, puffin', and doing knife hits off this brick on the kitchen stove.  It is very crowded and smokey, so a couple of us (including the sister I'm interested in) go out to our van to get some air. 

Out there a bowl is being packed with hash. Not thinking anything of it, we light up and pass it around. A moment later, we are caught by a cop who happens to live in that complex, and he tells us to go back to the apartment and that he is going to go get rid of the pipe. We walk in and advise everyone of the situation. This freaks the Highrollers out cause they have some life-time sentence shit if ya know what I mean. 

Anyhow, getting to the point of the story. The cop comes back and basically ends up finding some stuff.  He tells everyone to get out and that the people who live there need to be out by tomorrow if nothing is to come of it. Still wigged-out, yet relieved, we split and find a place to crash for the night. The next day, we go to pick up this sister who is saying bye to her live-in boyfriend to come on the road with us... and more or less kick it with me. 

Having laid the background, I'll now get to the shirt. I had lost some of my clothes (long story) and didn't have a long-sleeve. My girl gives me this aqua and green striped shirt. It is a little tattered and has obviously been sown up a couple of times. I assume it was hers and graciously wear it.  I end up wearing it throughout the rest of our travels together (another 3 months). 

Well, time comes to get back home and say goodbye to my Georgia girl. I was distraught to say the least, but life goes on. Well, one day I am wearing the shirt, and I go over my friend Sue's house. She had gotten back from Dead tour and the west coast about a month or two ago, and we haven't seen each other in many months. Well, I ring the bell and she answers, giving me a hug. All of the sudden, with a confused expression on her face, she shouts, "THAT'S MY SHIRT!!!" 

I'm like what? She proceeds to tell me that she had been out west (at Shoreline maybe) and traded an embroidered shirt she gotten at her 1st Dead show together with this girl. She never ended up seeing that sis again, so she kept the shirt. While making her way back to the mid-west with some kids, she kicked it down to this brother she traveled with cause he didn't have a long sleeve either. Well that guy was one of the kids in the apartment that night, and somehow in the chaos it was mixed in with our stuff. 

I ended up kickin' it down a year later to a bro of mine out west. By that time I had put patches on the elbows and it was even more tattered looking. When I came in contact with this shirt, it had done more traveling than I had at that point. Who knows, it could be out there somewhere, still hitchhiking around. It just goes to show you that every little quirky experience happens for a reason, and nothing is coincidence. Thanks for reading my little experience. MUCH LOVE AND MANY BLESSING TO YOU ALL!

 - Rob Schweitzer