The incredible short life of Jimi Hendrix

Have you ever heard anybody ask: "What were you doing when you heard Jimi Hendrix died?''

I was just wondering. It seems appropriate to ask on this day, the 39th anniversary of his death. A death in London still shrouded in mystery, a death that made Hendrix a founding member in the morbid Club 27, to be joined by Janis Joplin (just two weeks later), and Jim Morrison.

They all died too young, in their 27th year, like Brian Jones of the Stones, Ron "Pigpen" McKernan of the Grateful Dead, and even the great bluesman Robert Johnson back in 1938.

Considered by many, including Rolling Stone magazine, to be the greatest guitarist who ever lived, it seems the news of Hendrix's death would have sent shock waves around the planet. I'm sure it did in many places -- especially the U.K., where he was a most beloved performer. But I don't remember seeing the big headlines or hearing the chatter at the time. Maybe it was the time change back here in the States. It couldn't have been my studies at Wisconsin-La Crosse.

If not for three concerts that put his extraordinary playing and stage antics in the world view Hendrix, the Seattle native, might have remained mostly a U.K. treasure. The 1967 Monterey Pop Festival and his blazing Stratocaster changed that, thanks to the D.A. Pennebaker documentary. Then came his memorable early-morning appearance at Woodstock -- also captured on film for the masses -- and, finally, the Isle of Wight in 1970.

And then he was gone. Just four years earlier he appeared as John Hammond's backing band, the Blue Flame, at Cafe au Go Go in Greenwich Village. His final appearance, the night of his death, was an informal jam at Ronnie Scott's Jazz Club in SoHo.

So much in between. Has there ever been a bigger flame that burned so quickly?