~ ~ Epilogue ~ ~

Paul began to play on Peter's keyboard. Gentle chords signaled the start a tune that many in the audience knew, oh so well.

"When I find myself in times of trouble.... mother Mary comes to me.... speaking words of wisdom.... let it be.... and in my hour of darkness, she is standing right in front of me... speaking words of wisdom... let it be."

The other musicians slipped in smoothly with a melodic "Oooooo" under Paul's singing.

Davy glanced over at Peter, who was clearly just as affected by the beautiful orchestration of the song. Mike, standing to the other side, caught their glance and shared it with Micky. The Monkees had all heard "Let it Be" a thousand times before, and had even seen the movie that had pretty much served as a documentary of the destruction of one of the most legendary groups of their time-- of all time. This performance was theraputic in a way, and in particular, having George there brought everything full circle.

Each 'pre-fab' could only imagine what was being felt by their three contemporaries at that moment.....


Paul's voice sounded strong, piano playing was solid. This, however, was quite a feat since his mind was elsewhere. It was off where both George and Ringo were as well. They'd come a long way since 1971 and the break up. Just to be back onstage together had seemed nearly impossible for many, many years.

This was the chance no one had ever expected to get--- a chance to make amends. Not a day passed that Paul didn't regret missing that last chance with John. They'd been best friends back in the day, and to never be able to embrace and say those two simple words one last time - "I'm sorry" - was a regret that he had carried with him his entire life. George was on the verge of leaving this world as well, and he sure as hell wasn't going to let another friend pass away, falling from his grasp forever, without a last hoorah.

"And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree.... there will be an answer... let it be."

George looked over at that moment and could feel what Paul was thinking. This might be it, mate. But... If Ah'm goin', Ah'm gonna go doin' what Ah love. Remember me this way...

Paul swallowed and looked down at the keyboard. "For though they may be parted, there is still a chance that they will see... there will be an answer... let it be."


The Monkees felt like guests at a sacred event at that moment. Peter never fumbled in backup guitar duties, but what he wouldn't have given for a third hand to wipe his eyes with. Watching in sheer amazement, he saw all the people assembled at the foot of the stage begin to sway, as one, in time with the music. This is one of those moments you never forget. The unity.... the pride.... He changed key and Paul nodded to signal the switch over to "The Long and Winding Road".

"The long and winding road... that leads to your door... will never disappear... I've seen that road before...."

It was Mike's turn for thinking. Life was certainly a winding road. It had brought him to audition for some "silly television show" many years ago and brought him into contact with three other men who would be like his brothers for many years to come. Then life had changed him, like the wind shifting directions, and taken him away from those friends.

"The wild and windy night... that the rain washed away... has left a pool of tears... crying for the day..."

So far removed from his early life that Mike himself feared what he had become, only dark, horrible circumstances could have reunited them. Out of the trajedy had come hope. He was where he was meant to be. On stage with friends, companions, and brothers in a world that was so crazy. It was one crisis after another, with no time to stop and reflect. They were needed here, now, to offer comfort and support to their listeners--- and each other.

"Many times I've been alone, and many times I've cried...."

Paul looked up to the heavens for a moment and blew a kiss to Linda. He would see her again someday.

"Anyway, you'll never know the many ways I've tried...."

Ringo, behind the drums for this song, imagined clearly in his mind's eye the early days. The smoke-filled clubs, the small time gigs. They were so long ago, and yet were the building blocks of a phenomina.

"And still, they lead me back, to the long winding road..."

Davy remembered the screaming fans, the insane touring, the feeling like he was an outsider when all the others were playing and all he could do was tap on the tambourine. Then he learned how to play and wrote his first song. That was the day he had really grown up and held his own.

"You left me standing here a long, long time ago...."

A quick glance into the wings brought George up short. A white glimmer, like the reflection of chrome had caught his eye, and he was initially not going to think a thing about it. Standing there, just out of view of the others, was John. He wore an open-neck white dress shirt with white jeans, and, George chuckled inspite himself.. no shoes. Just like Lennon. John waved a 'see you soon' before fading from view.

"Don't leave me waiting here.... lead me to your door...."

Everyone stepped foreward a bit, bathed in the gentle glow of the dimmed spotlights as the song ended. The cheering audience was muffled a bit, prehaps mercifully so, as everyone glanced from face to face. Winding through life had brought them here and, to be honest, it wasn't a bad place to be. Hand in hand. Friend to friend. United at last.

But still, they lead me back
To the long winding road
You left me standing here
A long, long time ago
Don't keep me waiting here
Lead me to your door...