The day the music died was 50 years ago today.

The death of Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and J.P. "The Big Bopper" Richardson in a February 3, 1959, plane crash in Clear Lake, Iowa, marked the end of an era.

I was two years old at the time, so I only relate to this event in terms of what I have experienced secondhand. Watching "The Buddy Holly Story" on DVD, for example. I recommend it, it may be Gary Busey's best performance. Or listening to the 1971 folk/rock epic song, "American Pie".

For me, it is a sad exercise to consider what these men could have done with their lives. I mean no offense to fans of the other two performers, but I feel that Buddy Holly may have had the most potential. It is bittersweet to think of how his songwriting might have progressed in the competitive second half of the sixties, during the time that Bob Dylan and the Beatles dueled for bragging rights in constructing jewels of rock poetry. What road would Buddy Holly have walked? 

It is a sad thing that we will never know.