Pop idols die in plane crashes: Buddy Holly, Ricky Nelson, Richie Valens, the Lynyrd Skynyrd Band.
And now John Denver.His airplane crash was so shocking, authorities are still trying to make sense of it. But even more, America seems to be trying to make sense of John Denver himself. Over the years, people had forgotten what - or even how - to think about him. As Kris Kristofferson said of Hank Williams, "He was a walking contradiction, partly truth and partly fiction."
And in recent times, many had begun to sour on the man and his music.
To begin with, there was that boyish enthusiasm - a puppy-in-the-window desire to be loved that often seemed uncomfortable and cloying.
Many years ago I met Denver at a whirlwind media bash. He bounced and smiled. He seemed 15. I expected him to blurt "Far out!" at any moment.
Was that the real John Denver? Or a stage show for my benefit?
I think it was both.
Other singers found him less amusing. During the "We Are The World" filming featuring dozens of pop stars, Willie Nelson cracked, "If a bomb hit this building, John Denver would be No. 1 again."
Everybody laughed - and sneered. And the image of Michael Jackson, Kenny Rogers and others mocking Denver is a sad one indeed. It showed just how low he'd fallen on the barometer of pop music.
Much of his fall from grace he brought on himself, of course. Duplicity played a role.
He was an environmentalist who stock-piled enormous tanks of gasoline.
He was the "Muppet Man" who kept getting busted for drunken driving.
He was the "Gee, it's great to be back home again" guy who broke up his home life.
He was the woodsy hero who flew experimental planes off trendy Monterey Peninsula.
And yet, it has never been easy to dismiss the songs. Yes, they were slick and often seemed penned with one eye on the market. But say what you will about his life, the songs were real.
We all knew his marriage was in trouble way back in the '60s. "Leaving on a Jet Plane" told us so. And years later when he sang,"I'm sorry for all the lies I told you. I'm sorry for the things I didn't say," we knew it was over.
He was a witness giving honest testimony: "Rocky Mountain High," "Sometimes I Feel Like a Sad Song," "Grandma's Feather Bed," "Calypso," "Poems, Prayers and Promises." Call them what you will - pop clap-trap, sentimental silliness - you can never call them lies.
I spoke with Denver several times. The last time was in July of 1992 - a telephone interview just before his visit. On impulse, I taped that conversation. This week I've been listening to it.
At one point on the tape I tell him that Paul Simon says he hates his early material and wishes he'd neverwritten it. I asked Denver if he felt that way about his own early songs. He took the longest time to answer, then he said:
"The truth is I think `Poems, Prayers and Promises' is one of my very best songs. There are songs on that first album - `Sunshine on My Shoulder,' for example' - that I don't feel bad about at all. They are simplistic kind of statements, but in my opinion it's a simplicity that is enormously deep."
Perhaps if John Denver had lived, he'd need, at some point, to explain how he lived. Perhaps someone still needs to explain how he died.
But John Denver would never need to explain the songs to us.
People never need to take back the truths they tell, they only need to take back the lies.