Long-time Van Halen fan Debbie Pinkney has shared her heartfelt story with the Van Halen News Desk as a reminder of just how much the music of our favorite band has meant to people around the world and how Eddie Van Halen inspired her.
Eddie Van Halen Taught Me How to Fly
VAN HALEN INVITED ME TO THE PARTY…NO ONE WAS GOING TO TELL ME I DIDN’T BELONG
Eddie Van Halen has had a profound influence on my life, and as I reflect upon it I am at times overcome with emotion. It happened subtly and over time, but I will start by talking about grief, which fucking sucks. We all know this.
Eddie’s passing caught me off guard and has thrown me in ways I did not expect nor fully understand. I won’t waste time listing all the reasons people globally have mourned this tremendous loss to the music world, but I was perplexed by the intense level of personal grief that hit me. Sure, I could partially blame the 2020 Shit Show. It took four family members, severed in-person connections with people I love, and I moved to a new city that I cannot fully experience, arriving less than a month from the 2020 shutdown, with a greatly diminished support system. There is loss all around.
Nonetheless, the gravity of his illness and passing left me feeling broken and I grieved heavily. At times so much so that I felt ridiculous, weird, strange, and even ashamed. After all, I’ve never even had a conversation with him, but I cried because he was gone, and also because he suffered. I cried for Wolf. I cried for Alex. I cried for Valerie. There was a lot of crying. There was also deep, painful grief that would come in waves. I didn’t understand why it felt so profoundly unbearable. So I spent time reflecting, writing about, and exploring my feelings and experiences and how they all related to Van Halen. The more I thought about it and revisited memories, the more I fully considered how people have perceived me throughout my life, and it began to become more clear to me.
Eddie Van Halen taught me how to fly. Through him…through Van Halen, I learned how to be courageous and to confront fear, and I experienced a world that before had been hidden from me. In listening to their music, I felt invincible. Eddie helped me to be seen as a person to be loved and respected. In some ways I even identified with Eddie and Alex, and found kindred spirits of sorts in them. Eddie Van Halen and Van Halen had been my champions. They changed my life, and I didn’t know how much until Oct 6, 2020 when this world lost Eddie. I wish I had realized the full extent of his impact on me before he was gone.
DISCOVERY
My initial experiences with music were almost exclusively R&B, with some classical mixed in since I played the flute and failed tremendously at piano. In 1977 at age 13 my first concert was Parliament Funkadelic. It was the Funkentelechy vs. the Placebo Syndrome tour – think Flashlight, and it was amazing! Go ahead…be envious. I loved P-Funk, Bootsy, Heatwave, Kool and the Gang, Cameo, Brothers Johnson, Prince (of course!)…you get the picture. However, 1980 is a significant year for me. It marks when my primary choice of music shifted. It was abrupt, definitive, unrelenting.
How or what prompted it? In late 1979, I was hanging out more and more with new and old friends, many of which were white, so the music we listened to was almost exclusively rock and hard rock. I’m black, by the way. Anyway, after a while I grew tired of not knowing any of the artists or songs and always having to ask, “who is that?” I also remember one specific time when Paranoid (Black Sabbath) came on the radio and everyone in the car knew all the words. Everyone except me. I too wanted to know all the words to songs, so when I went home, I switched radio stations to DC101 and 98 Rock and started intentionally listening and learning for myself. That’s when I discovered Van Halen, and as with everyone else they blew me away. I could not get enough and would sit by the radio and flip back and forth between the two stations and wait for them to cycle through to the next Van Halen song. I also started learning as much about them as possible. When I finally had enough money to purchase what I thought was their only album, Women and Children First, I rushed to the record store to get it. Imagine my shock when I learned that they had already released TWO OTHER ALBUMS. What?! I had totally missed two full years of quality Van Halen time and music. Talk about FOMO. It also meant that I would need to go through the painful process of asking my father for more money so I could buy the other two albums immediately!
I was so caught up in my absorption of everything Van Halen that I was completely unaware of any transformation in myself. My family and friends saw it and it took them off kilter, yet I was oblivious. From my parents’ perspective, it was like they went to bed on a Tuesday night and woke up on Wednesday morning to find my bedroom walls covered with images of four rockers with long hair. Or the time when a friend and I watched VH’s American Bandstand appearance on TV while on the phone with one another jumping and screaming as my parents sat watching in astonishment. While they were supportive, they were at times bewildered. Van Halen had invaded their home without warning, and they didn’t really know how to handle it. Also, before Van Halen, I didn’t have any posters or magazine photos of anyone on my bedroom walls. This was not only new music, but also new behavior. Things had changed drastically, and their 16-year-old daughter had proclaimed that her life would not be complete unless she married Eddie Van Halen. They didn’t know what had hit them. I was transformed before many, starting with my family.
NEW WORLD OF MUSIC
My discovery of Van Halen, and subsequent adoration of Eddie, prompted other abrupt changes. One of which was the distinctive, purposeful sprint toward different genres of music: hard rock and metal. I was not exaggerating when I said unrelenting. Seriously, I never really looked back and I fully embraced every experience that came with it. I can definitively say that every album purchase, concert, and festival that followed was influenced by Van Halen. Every rock artist I have ever seen perform live is because of them…Rush, AC/DC, Ozzy, Metallica, Judas Priest, White Snake, Bon Jovi, Journey, Guns N’ Roses, Sepultura, Skunk Anansie, Rage Against the Machine and big venues like Monsters of Rock, Lollapalooza (mix of genres), or Eurokeenes (Belfort, France). The list is endless. They opened a portal and I jumped. It is all very clear now. All roads in my life lead back to Van Halen. If my life were a movie, Van Halen would be the soundtrack!
VAN HALEN INVITED ME TO THE PARTY…NO ONE WAS GOING TO TELL ME THAT I DIDN’T BELONG. SERIOUSLY, NO ONE…
I missed the 1980 Invasion tour by days. I was running around school telling people I needed to see Van Halen in concert and begging friends (and friends of friends) to take me with them. Someone finally said, “they just left”, and I was devastated. It still perplexes me how I missed that, but I guess the discovery overlapped with their tour and I was still unaware of all the details.
Anyway, I knew that their live performances were the ultimate party. I had to be there, and I had waited for what seemed like an eternity for them to release their next record and tour again. As soon as tickets went on sale, I secured some. I couldn’t wait to be in that same room packed with 17,000 people who all loved Van Halen, but it never occurred to me what that fully meant. What I failed to consider was the actual audience or who rock music fans might be or what they looked like. I didn’t give any thought to the fact that my physical appearance might not align with that community of concert goers. Perhaps you are thinking it should have been obvious, but it never occurred to me that in that crowd of thousands there might only be a few other black or brown faces in the entire fucking place.
So, there I was sprinting along my journey of musical discovery, and yet at the same time completely oblivious of what this might mean for me or for those who encountered me in the midst of all this. I was a young, black girl charging her way into what some may have viewed, consciously and unconsciously, as sacred white space. Hendrix had much less of an impact on who was welcomed than one might think. Thus, to my surprise, when I finally went to my first rock concert, I was confronted with myriad harsh glares and some very direct and audible statements of “what the fuck is she doing here?” or “she must be security.” Of course, there were some expressions of welcomed surprise and new concert friends like the bikers who shared their bottle of Jack, but they were certainly not enough to erase from memory the nasty comments or the one time when an asshole tried to ram his tongue down my throat as I was walking through the arena parking lot. Yes, this happened. His motivation? “I’ve never kissed a black girl before, so…” I also wasn’t prepared for the reactions of my friends. Most didn’t want to discuss it. The one time someone acknowledged it, they said, “Debbie, everyone is staring at you. Isn’t that funny?” I didn’t say anything, but in case you don’t know the answer. No. That shit was not funny.
When people weren’t shocked by my presence, it is true that they sometimes assumed that I was part of fucking security. Like, seriously, what the hell was I going to secure? Ok, in all fairness, there were some event security personnel who were black, but they were mostly largely muscled men. They were also surprised by my presence, but their reactions were different and more like, “you came here on purpose?” or “you’re early, the Isley Brothers will be here next week,” and then laugh raucously amongst themselves at my expense. The black security staff did, however, work to my advantage a few times. It seemed as though the guys assumed some sense of responsibility for my safety, and would sometimes stand watch. Not in a creepy way, but in a big brother kind of way. I was happy for that, simply based on what is in the previous paragraph. Also, once when my friend and I had floor seats in like row 20 (awesome!) there was this tall jerk in front of me, blocking my view of Eddie. I could manage to see Alex, Mike, and Dave with some maneuvering, but the view of Eddie was difficult. I kept jumping up and down to see. The watchful security guy who was standing at the end of our row and saw the futile efforts, actually let me stand in the aisle where I could see the entire stage and watch the show without any obstruction for a short while! It was glorious. Thank you, Big Brother Security Guy!
Speaking of security, people even thought we were security when my friend and I were camping overnight (in the snow) for Van Halen tickets. Laughable. Also, this whole “camping out for tickets” activity was a shock to my family, who had never heard of such a thing. When I asked some of my cousins to go with me, their responses were a resounding, “Camp out? Overnight? Outside? For tickets?! Uh…fuck no!” As far as they had experienced, black people didn’t do that shit. This added to my mother’s freak out and worry sessions for fear of my getting attacked or murdered in the middle of the night while waiting in line. In fact, I recently learned that she called one of my friends and asked her to go with me. My mother fully understood how important Van Halen was to me and didn’t try to stop me. She embraced my determination, but she wasn’t taking any chances. She also gave Van Halen her stamp of approval after listening to them through my bedroom door and once said, “you know, they’re pretty good” and “yes, he is cute.” Mission accomplished. Mommy was on my side! (My mother, were she alive today, would have known immediately the profound loss I have felt since learning of Eddie’s passing, and she would have mourned along with me.)
Back to the realities of being in that arena. They were sometimes unsettling, frustrating, and even frightening. Yes, there may have been a few thousand people staring or blaring non-niceties at my invasion of their perceived sacred space. It was daunting to say the least. Yet, my determination to be there did not waiver. I had to actively practice bravery, and it was really the first time I had ever done so. But I knew that if I wanted to see them, I had to walk through that fire of sorts. So I closed my eyes and sprinted. Van Halen had sent a blanket invitation to all fans. They had invited me to the ultimate party. In essence, they told me I belonged, and I believed them. No one was going to scare me away.
Yet, I couldn’t really talk about it with anyone. Most people didn’t want to hear it. It would only make them feel uncomfortable or guilty, and they would likely reject or excuse away my lived experience. I also chose not to tell my parents for fear of them reacting with their own sense of protection, fear, or discomfort and then decide that I couldn’t go to anymore rock concerts. So yes, I quickly learned that I would have to deal with some stupid and sometimes cruel people, but screw everyone else because Van Halen made me feel welcome and I wasn’t leaving. For me, they were saying “Debbie just ‘Jump!’ We know you are afraid, but you can do it, and when you do, we will be there.” Eddie was saying to me, “Debbie, I will be there.” How could I not go? So, with each opportunity, each concert, I got better and better at ignoring and pretending not to be bothered. I allowed my very presence to shout that I belonged.
HIGH SCHOOL HALLWAYS
On a much smaller scale and without the overt hostility, I also encountered puzzled and surprised responses from kids in the halls of my high school. My friends acclimated rather well to the rapid emergence of my Van Halen devotion, but the people who didn’t know me all failed to mask their shock. For example, the first time I wore a Van Halen t-shirt to school, the reactions were somewhat amusing. There were quite a few double-takes and one audible “is she wearing a Van Halen t-shirt?!” One guy was staring so intently that he literally walked into the back of a group of other people. A few people pointed, some frowned. One person actually asked where I got the shirt. For those of you who currently go online and order concert t-shirts and have them shipped to you, that wasn’t possible in the 80s. You actually had to go to the concert to purchase the shirt or there were the rare occasions where you purchased them from a record store that had “acquired” them. So, when I got that stupid fucking question in 1981, I was like…seriously?! Did they think I knocked someone over the head as they got off the bus, and then grabbed the shirt? Ok…my donning of a Van Halen or the subsequent Rush or AC/DC t-shirt that I, myself, had actually purchased at the actual concert was so foreign to people that the obvious answer was cloaked by my black skin. This all amazed me.
And, yes, of course there were friends who knew me well and knew that I loved Van Halen and I had gone to the concert. Yet, there have been people, some friends even, who would reject or challenge my love of Van Halen. Their responses were almost always the same, “well I know [insert name of white person] and s/he actually loves Van Halen.” As if only a person with white skin could truly love Van Halen. I would sometimes try to push back, or school them on their willful ignorance, but they would push even harder to make their case. In most instances, I just let them think they were right because I didn’t have the fucking energy to fight.
THE ESSENCE OF COOL
Through Van Halen and my overt and often vocalized love of Eddie, I crossed a threshold and found a voice in a room where few like me entered. I earned respect for my knowledge and opinions of a genre of music that had been foreign to me until recently. Seriously, they gave me an unanticipated form of recognition. People who had previously barely acknowledged me were suddenly greeting me with smiles, head nods, and high fives. In a way it was fucking cool. I was the black girl who knew her shit about rock.
Our school had a showcase and bands were playing covers of AC/DC and KISS. I was sitting near a group of guys, and after a while I realized that they were watching me and awaiting my reactions to the performances. Then I noticed that they would agree with me when I either applauded or frowned or laughed (I know, rude) and I remember one of them saying, “oh that’s Debbie, she knows.” I had become someone who knew what she was talking about and people respected my opinions. They didn’t always agree with me, but people started embracing me in ways I had never imagined.
And, yes, for some kids it seemed I was also a source of entertainment and others leapt at the opportunity to challenge me with questions about songs and bands. Occasionally, people would walk by me and shout “Van Halen!” just to see my reaction. Many would also ask me about how much I loved Eddie. It seemed to amaze them that I could love and appreciate a rock guitar god and musician just as much or more than they did. Some kids garnered amusement out of it, but I didn’t care. It was a new type of popularity that I welcomed. We had found common ground and a unifying love. I felt special. Van Halen and my undying devotion had made me special.
EDDIE VAN HALEN GAVE ME SO MUCH
Eddie changed my life in so many ways, and ones in which I would have never before imagined. So his passing led me to grieve heavily. However, as I have processed my grief, I have come to know this: Eddie Van Halen, his life experiences, and his music were more powerful than I realized.
He made me the person I am today. Full stop. To a certain extent, all of Van Halen did, but it is clear that he had a significant impact on my life that surpasses the obvious. He opened the door to a world of music that put me in a sprint towards hard rock and metal. Ok, that is easy and likely obvious for many fans, but for a 16-year-old black girl in 1980 that opening…that invitation really, told me that I had a right to be in spaces where few who looked like me entered. Yet he drew me there, and I didn’t hesitate to go because I loved Van Halen and I wasn’t stopping. So, I went and I stayed in those new spaces with 16,990 people staring intently and a few being cruel assholes. I had to be brave to enter and to stay there…and hell…go to the fucking bathroom by myself. Van Halen gave me my first lessons in courage and bravery. It didn’t stop there.
Through his music Eddie told me that I could love him too, and because of that, he literally made me a person. He helped me find a way to reveal an element of my humanity that was often cloaked by my race. He helped me show people that I was a person who could give love, be loved, and who was also deserving of it. He told them I was just like them, and he actually helped me accomplish something with which I had struggled my entire life. He slowly helped me transform from being identified by my race to being seen as Debbie. Debbie who loved Van Halen and who told everyone that she was going to marry Eddie Van Halen. And, yes, the announcement of his marriage was devastating to me. However, as a huge fan of Valerie Bertinelli, who grew up watching her grow up on TV, I was able to accept their beautiful union and manage my love for him appropriately and in a way that was respectful. LOL!
Anyway, Eddie told me and others, including my parents, that I deserved the same as everyone else. He connected me to people who were already open to really getting to know me. He made me feel safe. He taught me how to be brave and adventurous, to stand my ground, to gain a sense of belonging, and most importantly to be embraced with love. Eddie bridged a racial divide and offered me equality. Eddie Van Halen was my ally at a time when we didn’t even use the term. He was one of my biggest champions during my adolescence and early adulthood – so basically, when I needed him the most, he was there for me.
Through Eddie and his music I was able to show people all that we had in common as opposed to our differences. People who would never have previously approached me started to talk to me about music and bands and even gave me Van Halen gifts. My love of Van Halen gave me knowledge and clout and respect. By the early 90s my love of hard rock and metal was less of a jolt to strangers and served more as an invitation to those who shared my love of music. Hell, a Van Halen t-shirt connected me with one of my most cherished and life-long friends.
When I really think about it, my whole life has been about embracing opportunities, even when they terrified me. Without the courage I discovered through Van Halen, I may not have served in the Peace Corps, or moved overseas for jobs, or have been a cheerleader in my 40s. LOL! I guess not everyone takes gymnastics for the first time in their late 30s. Through this reflection, I have come to truly know the myriad reasons why I have loved Eddie and Van Halen so much and for so long.
SO WHY DO I HAVE REGRETS?
I have actually enjoyed revisiting all of my Van Halen memories and looking at all the ways I embraced my love of Eddie and the guys. Yet, I have also tormented myself over things I cannot change. I know…ridiculous, but it haunts me that I didn’t even know Van Halen had toured in 2015. Of course, there are perfectly acceptable reasons: In 2014 I moved to Lesotho, and that December I was almost killed in a car accident in South Africa. I then spent almost all of 2015 in physical and mental trauma recovery while I continued to live and work overseas. While there, I focused on music in those regions. So, in a way, wasn’t I doing exactly what Eddie would have likely encouraged me to do, and what he taught me to do? Embrace music. Yet, it pains me to know that I missed the chance to see them with Diamond Dave again or a big all Van Halen reunion tour (eventually), and more importantly, I missed the last tour where Eddie would play alongside Wolf.
I am also sad and angry with myself because I did not fully realize all the many ways that I loved Eddie and Van Halen or even why. I was oblivious and there are times that I feel overwhelmed with regret for not realizing the significant role they have played in my life. It makes me profoundly sad that I did not fully appreciate Eddie’s positive influence on my life until he passed away. I mean, I loved him so much, yet I never fully knew why. If I had been more cognizant of things, I could have tried to tell him via Instagram or Facebook. He may never have seen it, but at least I would have been aware of his gifts to me and appreciated them more fully while he was still here, and I would have felt a little better for having attempted to share it with him. This mostly saddens me because I never got to thank him. For that failure of awareness, I have struggled to forgive myself.
THE PRESENCE OF KNOWLEDGE TRULY IS POWERFUL
When I was young, I wanted to meet Van Halen and tell them that I loved them. The need to do that was so overwhelmingly powerful. I knew that I loved them, but until now I did not know or understand the full impact they and their music have had on my life.
And Eddie, specifically, gave me and the rest of the world so much more than music. I wonder if he ever considered the inadvertent gifts he bestowed upon those of us who were lucky enough to be aware of his presence? I know I am not the only person who experienced great things because of Van Halen. I am not the only one who was able to break barriers because of them. But what I experienced because of Eddie is so very personal to me. It is enormously important to me, and as I have taken more time to reflect over ALL of my life-long Van Halen-related experiences, I am overcome with gratitude.
An old family friend was visiting our home a few weeks before I started my Peace Corps service, and my mother proudly shared with him what I was about to do. He looked at me and rudely asked, “what makes you think you can do something like that?” At the time I was so shocked by his question that I didn’t know how to respond. I wish I knew then what is so clear to me now because what I should have said was, “Eddie Van Halen taught me that I could.”
I love you, Eddie. You changed my life. You taught me how to fly. Thank you, Eddie. Thank you, Van Halen.
– Debbie P
