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29 Years Ago Today, the Search for Jeff Buckley Came to a Tragic End
Asleep in the sand with the ocean washing over, Jeff Buckley wailed repeatedly as his 1994 song “Dream Brother” faded out. Three years later, those words would prove eerily prescient. On May 29, 1997, the budding singer-songwriter disappeared after a spontaneous swim in the Wolf River Harbor, a tributary of the Mississippi River near Memphis, Tennessee. Six days later—on this day (June 4)—in 1997—Buckley’s body resurfaced, his young life and promising music career both cut cruelly short.
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He Had Gone Missing Six Days Earlier
At about 4:30 p.m. on June 4, 1997, a passenger aboard the riverboat American Queen spotted a body floating in the Wolf River at the foot of Memphis’ renowned Beale Street.
Six days submerged in water had left the man barely recognizable. However, Jeff Buckley’s road manager, Gene Bowen, recognized the singer-songwriter’s navel ring with a purple bead and, per the autopsy, “green shiny toenail polish on three toenails.”
The autopsy found no trace of drugs or alcohol in the 30-year-old Buckley’s system. Shelby County authorities ruled his death an accidental drowning.
And just like that, folk-rock’s latest phenomenon was over as quickly as it began.
What Happened to Jeff Buckley?
On May 29, 1997, Jeff Buckley was waiting for his band’s flight to land in Memphis, where they would join him in the studio. He was set to begin work on the follow-up to his solo debut, 1994’s Grace.
The “Hallelujah” singer spent the evening riding around the city in a rented truck with Keith Foti, a roadie in Buckley’s band. The two listened to Foti’s mixtape, which included songs from Jane’s Addiction, P*rno for Pyros, and the Beatles.
As dusk descended, the pair decided to head down to the water, bringing a boombox and guitar with them.
The channel’s muddy waters weren’t particularly inviting. However, that didn’t stop Buckley from wading in fully clothed.
“You can’t swim in that water,” Foti warned.
But Buckley only grinned, singing Led Zeppelin’s “Whole Lotta Love” as he reclined and backstroked further into the harbor.
Spotting a small boat in the approaching darkness, Foti yelled for his friend to get out of the way. He did, but another, larger boat appeared almost immediately afterwards.
As its wake surged toward the shoreline, Foti turned to grab the boombox and move it out of the water’s path. When he turned again, he said, “There was no sight of Jeff.”
Ten days after Buckley’s body resurfaced, Bowen stood by the riverbank. He peered into the opaque waters that had claimed the musician’s life.
“Why would you even put your toe in that?” he asked Rolling Stone writer Fred Schruers. “But it’s typical Jeff. He was a butterfly, you know? He was just like: ‘Go with it.’“
Featured image by Mick Hutson/Redferns
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