It's a Friday night in Anytown U.S.A. and I'm getting ready to see a band play at a local music venue. The work week is behind me, the daily nonsense of traffic, rude people and the burnt slice of pizza I had earlier today are behind me. I kiss my wife and daughter and I text my friends to let them know I'm on my way. In no time flat I will have a beer in my hand, loud rock music in my ears, good friends by my side and every care I have in the world will be gone for a few hours. Later on that night I return home. I check on my sleeping daughter and I get in bed next to my sleeping wife. I reflect on the great time I had this evening and I think about the next opportunity I'll have to do it all over again. I close my eyes and I fall asleep. It's a Friday night in Anytown U.S.A. and I've done this a thousand times before. It's who I am and I wouldn't want to be anyone else.
It's Friday night, 11/13/15 in Paris, France and 36 year old Pierre-Antoine Henry was getting ready to attend a show at the Bataclan where the Eagles of Death Metal were performing. He, along with hundreds of others were looking for a fun night out on the town doing what they love to do best, be around music. Some showed up to work the door, the bar, the stage or merchandise tables. Some showed up to perform for about 1,500 music fans. Some showed up simply as fans. Along with Pierre-Antoine Henry, nearly a hundred other people did not go home, did not kiss their kids or significant others and will never get an opportunity to see another show again. I did not know any of them personally yet I feel like I knew every single one of them because I am one of them.
Pierre was a part of an online group that I'm also a part of (Pearl Jam Ten Club Members) and he has two young daughters. He is all of us. Rest in peace my friend.
This is dedicated to all who lost their lives on that horrific night.