From: James M. Spear

I've been to four KISS concerts, starting in the late '70s. I've enjoyed them all. However the last one at Nashville was different. I have no children. My brother's son turned 14 on Christmas day. He has been a big KISS fan for several years of his young life. His father and mother attended two concerts with me and my ex-wife in '79 and I believe '81. His father was as big a KISS nut as anyone around here. On Halloween, they would put on the make-up and all. His father had all the albums and 8-track tapes. My nephew found many of those "old KISS antiques" and fell in love. My brother and his wife were divorced several years ago but remained in contact. My ex-sister in law had breast cancer in 1987 and was in remission. The cancer returned a few years ago. About this time my nephew discovered KISS.

As luck would have it, my brother called me at work and said KISS was coming to Nashville and if there was any way, could I get tickets. He wanted to take his son to his first KISS concert. When the tickets went on sale, I managed to get through and got decent seats in just 15 minutes. The day before the concert, the weather forecasts for Nashville were not promising and my nephew was in agony. My nephew called several times, asking if we were still going. I told him, his dad and I would get him to Nashville if we had to carry him the 85 miles. That is, I told him, if nothing happened to his mother. See, his mom's breast cancer had returned and was winning. The doctors gave her very little time. They placed her on a respirator a couple of days before the concert. She had fought very valiantly to last through her son's birthday, but it didn't look good for her to make it through the concert date. She knew what KISS meant to her son and she wanted him to go see them.

My brother, my nephew and I left early to get to Nashville, in case the weather slowed us. We arrived at the arena about 2 1/2 hours early. My nephew wanted to get in line then. We wouldn't do it and he was dying! When the doors opened we got in line and made it in fairly quickly. Once inside, he couldn't wait. He was so excited he was shaking. He kept asking questions about this, that and the other and couldn't wait for the opening band to get off. When the house lights went out and the excitement started to build, I looked over at him. His eyes were as big as saucers. He was in heaven.

When the announcer said "YOU WANTED THE BEST--" you could have driven a big truck through the smile on his face. He knew the words to the songs. He knew the costumes. He was in heaven. I watched him about as much as the show. The show, to me, was great as usual. It didn't matter to me if they had sucked. The reason I was there was to let my nephew have a couple of hours of peace. Away from the thoughts of his near-death mom. After the last encore, he looked at me and his dad and said he was worn out (he plays school basketball). All my brother and I could do was laugh. We'd been there-done that. The weather had been kind to us and we made it home early on Jan. 3, about 1:30 am.

Before he left my house, he hugged me and thanked me for the KISS tickets. He said it had been the greatest day of his life. His mother died later in the day. The doctors kept her alive long enough for him to go to the concert and disconnected her from life-support at about 4:00 pm.She left this earth about 5:30 pm with my nephew at her side. My brother was too.

At her funeral, my nephew had them play "I Finally Found My Way", off the Psycho Circus album. My nephew had 2 1/4 hours of life at the concert. Then had to face death. At least one of his dreams had been realized. Thank you KISS.

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