So Close (a James Hetfield story)

Chapter 30

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1989 - 1992

Steven was right about all of it as it turned out. We did sound incredible together; my smoky voice complimented his rasp perfectly, and my range added a fullness to the backing vocals of the other guys in the band. After the first week of rehearsals I got the official word that I was hired, and after two months of intense preparation, we hit the road. Since I knew I'd be gone for pretty much all of the next year, Kelly decided to stay at the duplex and had her boyfriend Adrian move in to keep her and Chachi company. It also meant I had to say goodbye to my studio gigs and the band, but everyone was really happy for me. When Hugh hosted a huge farewell party at his place, all of them showed up to wish me well. The Downey crew was equally supportive but a little more vocal in their unhappiness about my departure; Mel and Kelly were almost inconsolable at the splitting up of the three musketeers that we'd become. But despite the genuine sadness at leaving my family and friends behind, my entire support system, at the same time, I was secretly thrilled about the change to my life. In that way, Steven had also been correct. I needed that new journey, a new path on which to build a different future for myself.

It was all a little overwhelming at first. Ok, a lot overwhelming. Everything about the scale of the production was massive, putting any of my previous performing experience to complete and utter shame. The stage set-up was massive, the size of the crew was massive, the size of the audiences were massive. I had to learn and adjust quickly, but it was exhilarating at the same time and it left me little opportunity to think about other things.

Having been on the road with Metallica, I was not unused to all of its challenges. I understood what it meant to have long periods of boredom on a bus or plane and then bam, a few hours of frenzied insanity that left a person completely drained. I knew how to pace myself, I knew how to not get sucked into the excesses of fame, and most importantly, I knew how to rebuke any unwanted attention from the crew, industry types, and sometimes the fans. Steven and tour management had made it very clear that as pretty much the sole female, I was to be left alone. That mandate was often ignored in the beginning, but over time, most of the guys on the tour got the hint. I was firm but not unkind, and after a while they became protective of me when outsiders to our crew tried getting too fresh. I never really let on how much I appreciated their protectiveness, but had they known my history they'd understand the fear that hovered around the fringes of my psyche.

Despite all the drastic changes to my life, I actually thrived being on the road. I loved the novelty of each new town and city. I loved being on stage and creating music with a band that had influenced my musical upbringing. I loved making new friends on the crew and how we formed our own little family. Maybe part of it reminded me of those days on the road with James and the guys, more than once I'd have a poignant senses of déjà vu that would leave me reeling, but I tried to embrace the connectedness between my past and present and make peace with it.

In mid-October of 1989, the tour kicked off in Europe. Many of the venues were in cities and towns I'd visited before with Metallica, and there was definitely a nostalgia that I felt keenly. Most of it was fine, some not so much. Being in Germany was hard. Reliving the terrifying moments of my attack—and the aftermath—I felt more alone and vulnerable than I had in a very long time. It was early in the tour and I hadn't really had a chance to build any friendships yet, and I was suddenly homesick, wishing for Kelly's words of encouragement or a loving hug from my mom.

We'd just finished a show at an arena in Frankfurt and the band was enjoying their after performance meal. I wasn't hungry though, feeling too on edge thinking about what had happened four years earlier only a few miles away, the very epicenter of where my life had imploded. Instead, I grabbed my bag and went to wait outside for the van that would take us back to the hotel. Sitting on an equipment box, I tried to let the organized chaos of the crew packing up the stage and equipment distract me from darker thoughts. I guess I wasn't hiding my misery as well as I thought.