Oct ‘09: Per Google Analytics, this is the second-most read post on my blog.

This story is one of the first things I ever posted publicly on the Internet. Way back in maybe 1995 or ‘96 (maybe even ‘94, I dunno for sure), I tried one of those “Ten Gazillion Hours Free!” disks from AOL. C’mon, admit it — didn’t we all do it at least once back in those days? Well, the only thing I found on AOL that was remotely interesting to me was the Led Zeppelin discussion board. It was there that I posted this true story from 1989. It appears that the content of those boards has not been preserved anywhere online, so I’m going to tell the story again here.

For most of 1989, I was in San Diego on the USS Hepburn. I’d bought a new car, a Ford Escort named “Tennessee Jed” (I may hate the football team, but I love the Grateful Dead!). Pretty much every non-duty day, I was in Jed — usually with a buddy or two — headed to Sunset Cliffs after knocking off work early. After an hour or two of getting some sun, it was off to O.B. for some chow, or maybe up to Mission or Pacific.

I’m a rockin’ blues fan, and the best thing about San Diego for me was that just about every night there would be two or three (or more) good blues acts to pick from, so after sundown we’d hit the clubs. Then it was music and alcohol until the wee hours. This went on, as I said, pretty much every day for months until finally my enlistment ran out. Boy was it great. A real renaissance year!

So anyway, very late one weekend night — actually early one morning — I found myself after the bars closed walking along the north stretch of one of the beaches. Not completely positive at this late date which beach it was, but I’d guess Ocean Beach if I had to. Picture it: 3 AM, maybe 4 AM, on a weekend. Dark. Mostly quiet, except for the waves. A dozen or so people milling about here and there. And I’m by myself, a drunken sailor just getting some air ’cause he doesn’t feel like going back to the boat yet. So I’m walking along and up ahead, right near the short “fence” that demarks the beach from the street, a handful of people are gathered around and I hear an acoustic guitar.

I walk up and stand with the crowd watching this guy with medium-length, curly black hair seated and hunched over a guitar, playing some sweet blues. He’s good. We listen for a while, everyone smiling and enjoying, and eventually he pauses and takes his applause. He asks, “any requests?”

I piped right up with a typically drunken sailor reply, “how ’bout some Led Zeppelin!” I was actually trying to make a joke, I think. Someone in the group of onlookers groaned. Regardless, this guy — with zero hesitation — tore right into a solo acoustic rendition of most of Led Zeppelin I. I mean he didn’t just play it like he’d learned it (very well); he played it like he owned it. And we were all — including the guy who’d groaned at my request — totally freakin’ dumb-struck.

Now… Jimmy Page has very distinctive eyes, as any Zep fan knows. Whether it’s in his boyish headshot on the back of Zeppelin I or recent photos from Zep reunions and other gigs, the man’s eyes haven’t really changed over the years. He’s instantly recognizable as Jimmy Page, no mater what age or what he’s wearing or how his hair is. And this guy — I had noticed it when he looked up and asked for requests — this guy had Jimmy Page’s eyes. And I didn’t really think too much about it other than, “oh, that’s cool — he looks like JP.” Until, that is, he started playing the Zep music! I may be slow, but I’m not stupid. I added 2 + 2 and said to myself, “holy Fuck!”

Jimmy Page, c. 1968

Jimmy Page, c. 2008

By the time he finished that bit, the crowd had about doubled, but was still pretty small. After all, there’s not that much foot traffic at 4 AM +, even on a San Diego beach. We clapped; we cheered; he smiled and nodded thanks. Still not completely 100% sure — I mean what are the odds? — I leaned in and just said to him, “hey — has anyone ever told you, you have Jimmy Page eyes?”

He looked right at me, grinning, put a finger to his lips, and whispered audibly, “shhhh, it’s a secret.”

That was the end of the show. He got up and shook some hands. We dispersed. The guy had only said a handful of words, so I wasn’t able to detect whether an English accent was present or not. But in the ’70’s, Led Zeppelin did spend a lot of time in California. And it’s not inconceivable that Jimmy Page might have been out on a beach in San Diego in 1989, playing guitar at 4 o’clock in the morning. But whatever the truth, I went back to the ship that day with goose bumps and one hell of a story.