Getting there was no problem, and the show started off pretty well. Some of the punks I knew from Telegraph were there, but they didn't seem interested in talking to me. I stayed to myself and explored the old building. I don't think I knew that this was the same Fillmore where the Dead and the Airplane used to play.

Once Fear came on, I started slam dancing hard. I'd done some stage-diving before and felt like giving it a try again. This stage was a bit higher than others I'd done, and it was a little tough getting up onto it. My first couple dives were great: the crowd, unable to move out of the way, cushioned my fall and I got right back up and started slamming again.

My next dive, however, didn't go so well. While running across the stage to jump, I bumped into someone else running the other direction, which slowed my momentum. I then tried to do a flip off the stage, but my boot caught on someone's head and I didn't get around as much as I should have. Plus, the crowd was not quite so dense where I aimed: they parted like the Red Sea and I landed hard on my head.

I remember some shifting light and dark from people's legs, and then I blacked out. The next thing I new I was out in the hall, propped against a wall, with some of the Telegraph folks around me asking me if I was OK. I wasn't sure.