The serendipity of the universe can turn a single moment into a catalyst that expands the possibilities of what someone’s life can be. Similarly, a single psychedelic trip can grant someone a trajectory-changing experience that ripples throughout the rest of their lives. Betty Cantor-Jackson is a person who happened to experience both these phenomena simultaneously. Little did she know her teenage decision to take a capsule of LSD would soon lead her into a life-long strange trip alongside the notoriously psychedelic Grateful Dead. Betty’s contributions to The Grateful Dead changed their legacy for the better and her story shows a portrait of a woman fighting for her place in a world dominated by men.
Early Life
Born in the California Bay Area in 1948, Betty felt out of place as a child. Determined to investigate the world and get some answers she had a natural affinity for electronic tinkering and math. Too advanced for her high school math and science classes, Betty found herself a young teenager attending seminars and absorbing the 1960s counterculture at UC Berkeley.
By the time Betty was a teenager she was ready to join in on the booming ‘60s hippie movement: a movement revolutionized, energized and ultimately demonized by LSD.
Betty and LSD
After writing a research paper on LSD, Betty decided she wanted to try it for herself. In a podcast interview, Betty recalled her feelings surrounding the substance. She was only a junior in high school at the time but knew deep down that the horror stories surrounding LSD would not be her experience.
“I am going to be one of the ones whos smells get stronger, colors get brighter, I am not going to go nuts,” she said.
Betty was a seeker, feeling like an alien in her own world and hungry for an expanded reality. LSD allows people the opportunity to perceive reality in a new way, tapping them into a form of consciousness unavailable in their regular frame of mind. Luckily for Betty, the LSD she took that fateful day in San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park was made by Stanley Owsley, the supplier and friend of The Grateful Dead. Betty found herself at 710 Ashbury St, The Grateful Dead’s office and home, and was immediately absorbed into the transcendental experience of the crowd. LSD fuelled both the original Dead members and the community surrounding them, giving everyone the opportunity to come together as one entity under the hypnotic rhythm of the music. A rock and roll fan herself, this experience was meaningful for Betty. Partially because she was high and partially because it was her first foot in the door of the San Francisco music scene.
Betty and The Grateful Dead
Betty worked her way up from concession girl at the Avalon Ballroom, eager to learn how to mic instruments and record shows, to eventually building relationships with bands: including The Grateful Dead. Her first professional involvement with The Grateful Dead was assisting Bob Mathews — their current sound engineer — with the audio setup of the 1968 album Anthem of the Sun. Betty had a natural talent for sound mixing and was a hard worker, landing her with the task of mastering the band’s 1970 album Workingman’s Dead. When the group returned from tour and listened to what Betty had created, they realized the talent they had on their hands and gave her the reins to come along on tour and mix for them.
Betty had close relationships with many of The Dead members. She married their manager Rex Jackson, was great friends with Jerry Garcia —the band’s lead man — and genuinely believed in the magic of The Dead’s music. The task of translating the mysticism and joy of a concert into a recording was of great importance to Betty and she sacrificed other aspects of her life to be there for the band.
Living on the road with a rock and roll band was a challenging environment for women. Betty recounts dumbing herself down in order to not intimidate the fragile egos of other male sound engineers. At times even working to make men think that her ideas were their own, just so that the job would get done right. Believing in the power of what she herself experienced as a teenager at 710 Ashbury Street, Betty navigated the male dominated landscape in order to help The Grateful Dead reach as many ears as possible.
Betty Boards
The Grateful Dead were known for their leinance surrounding fan recordings of live shows. It worked well as promotional material for the band and allowed them to “not be cops.” Thousands of “tapers” would flock to their shows, recording grainy renditions of music that otherwise would have dissipated into only the memories of those present. These tapes were traded and treasured amongst fans, but rarely were of high sound quality.
Betty treasured each live performance just as much, using her own recording equipment and tapes to capture all of the shows she worked on. She would listen to them back with Jerry Garcia the morning after shows but they were mostly for her: treasures of her adventures alongside her favorite band.
Unfortunately for Betty, her reverence, respect and dedication to The Grateful Dead was not reciprocated. After the death of her husband Rex, Betty coupled up with the newest keyboard player Brent Mydland. Brent was one of many keyboardists that came and went from the Dead but when things ended between him and Betty, the band’s loyalties fell towards him. Betty was iced out of her studio, her job and her community. No longer seen as a brilliant sound engineer or a loyal friend Betty was now only worth what she meant to one of the male bandmates.
Even after her exile, Betty continued to contribute to The Grateful Dead’s legacy. Heartbroken, Betty packed up her tapes and put them in a storage unit. Over the next years she lost her house, moved back in with her parents and eventually couldn’t pay for the storage unit anymore. The unit was auctioned off along with the best live recordings of The Grateful Dead that anyone had ever imagined.
These tapes are known as the Betty Boards, referencing their direct recording and mixing from the soundboards of Betty Cantor-Jackson herself. These tapes had Betty’s special touches, mixed so that the listener got to fulfill their fantasy of being a part of the band. Betty knew the magic of being a part of this mammoth musical operation and she gifted that to others in these tapes.
Her tapes also allowed for a revitalization of Deadheads. Now there were new treasures to seek out and new concert experiences that could be relieved in higher definition sound. These recordings are so highly lauded that in 2012, Betty’s 1977 recording at Cornell’s Barton Music Hall was inducted into the Library of Congress’s National Recording Registry for its importance to American culture.
Betty’s Legacy
Aside from her live recordings, Betty was a pioneer as a female sound engineer. Having to hold her own in environments where people were more likely to view her as one of their buddy’s old ladies than as the asset she was to the entire Dead community. Betty helped capture not only the music but the energy and connective hypnosis of a Grateful Dead concert. Though her name is not plastered on t-shirts or albums and to some she is only an ex-girlfriend with a forgotten storage unit, Betty’s legacy highlights the powers of passion, curiosity and adventure.
Psychonaut Thoughts
Have you heard anything about Betty Cantor-Jackson or her famous tapes? Deadhead or not, we would love to hear your thoughts in the comments below.