Roll of the Dice: Terry’s Song

From the Asbury Park Press, August 1, 2007:

Frank “Terry” Magovern, of Rumson, passed away Monday, July 30. Terry grew up in Belmar, where he attended St. Rose High School. He was a four-year Navy veteran, completing special warfare training and specializing in underwater demolition work (UDT) before being assigned to work with the Mercury Space Program and the original seven Mercury astronauts. For the past 23 years, Terry was the personal assistant to Bruce Springsteen and was a cherished friend to people worldwide whose names are too numerous to list. Terry was active in many aspects of the local community through business and charitable work, such as Holiday Express and Light of Day supporting Parkinson’s Disease and research. In 2006 he founded the Joan Dancy and Pals ALS Support Group at Riverview Medical Center, in memory of his former fiancée, who lost her battle to the disease. In addition, Terry was involved with the Apple Jack Canine Kennels in Maryland, a dog-training facility specializing in bomb-sniffing dogs for the military. He later developed a program that trains dogs that work in women’s shelters for victims of domestic violence as companion dogs for protection.

Obituaries often try to capture the life and lasting impact of the dearly departed, summarizing a lifetime in a paragraph or two. But sometimes it’s about the depth of one’s life, not the breadth of it.

Bruce and Terry met in 1972. Bruce was playing at the Captain’s Garter bar in Neptune, a stone’s throw from Asbury Park; Terry was managing the bar. Bruce had just delivered one of his trademarked-even-then legendary performances; Terry focused on the cash registers, empty because patrons were too rapt to drink. Bruce likes to retell how Terry fired him on Day One of their relationship, but the truth is that both men impressed each other with their unique talents and worldviews, and they grew gradually but steadily close, both professionally and personally.

Over the years, Terry served as road manager, research assistant, personal assistant… he even supported Clarence and managed Big Man’s West for a time. Terry “got” Bruce–instinctively knowing what his friend and boss needed, staying in the background unless otherwise necessary, comfortable with silence but always present, ever of service to those around him.

Terry passed away in his sleep on July 30, 2007. His memorial service was held three days later, at the United Methodist Church in Red Bank, NJ. Bruce eulogized him in his typical raconteur style, but it was through song that Bruce truly and fittingly captured and immortalized his friend.

Written and performed less than three days since Magovern’s untimely death, this is–simply–“Terry’s Song.”

Bruce introduces “Terry’s Song” on a mournful piano, but his dour mood doesn’t last long. After a moment of silence, Bruce’s acoustic guitar kicks in, and Bruce lovingly and audaciously compares his friend to the world’s great wonders:

Well they built the Titanic to be one of a kind, but many ships have ruled the seas
They built the Eiffel Tower to stand alone, but they could build another if they please
The Taj Mahal, the pyramids of Egypt are unique, I suppose
But when they built you, brother, they broke the mold

Those wonders may be awe-inspiring, but the only reason they’re unique is that no one has decided to copy them. But they could if they wanted to–unlike Bruce’s friend, who was unduplicatable.

Now the world is filled with many wonders under the passing sun
And sometimes something comes along and you know it’s for sure the only one
The Mona Lisa, the David, the Sistine Chapel, Jesus, Mary, and Joe
And when they built you, brother, they broke the mold

The comparisons in the second verse are more apt–not because Terry was classically beautiful like the works of Da Vinci or Michelangelo, and not because he was a religious icon, but because just like there will never be another painting quite like the Mona Lisa, so too will Bruce’s friend never be replaced.

When they built you, brother, they turned dust into gold
When they built you, brother, they broke the mold

Only in the first bridge does Bruce’s wistful remembrance give way to loss and mourning:

They say you can’t take it with you, but I think that they’re wrong
‘Cause all I know is I woke up this morning, and something big was gone
Gone into that dark ether where you’re still young and hard and cold
Just like when they built you, brother, they broke the mold

Bruce gifts his good friend one final time, not only immortalizing him in song, but preserving him at his peak and ensuring that we remember him the way that Bruce will always remember him: young and hard and cold. The harmonica-led bridge that follows breathes life into Terry’s young form, and for precious seconds we can almost see and certainly feel a youthful and vibrant Terry. But only for seconds.

Now your death is upon us, and we’ll return your ashes to the earth
And I know you’ll take comfort in knowing you’ve been roundly blessed and cursed
But love is a power greater than death, just like the songs and stories told
And when she built you, brother, she broke the mold

We’ve returned to reality, and Bruce is facing forward, saying goodbye to his friend one last time, and assuring him that he’ll be remembered in death as vividly and honestly as in life, with a big heart and a bad attitude:

Bad attitude’s a power stronger than death, alive and burning or stone cold
When they built you, brother…

Bruce employs a favorite device here, choosing not to finish the last line, knowing that in its absence we will silently and involuntarily complete it on our own, thereby making the song as personal to us as it is to him.

In fact, “Terry’s Song” is surprisingly universal for a song so personal and specific, and there’s a reason for that: it isn’t the details that resonate (unless you actually do have a friend just like Terry), but rather the simple but powerful fact of being recognized–really recognized–and known–truly known by another human being. There’s comfort in knowing that there’s at least one person on this earth who knows us well enough and intimately enough to keep our memory alive and true after we’re gone.

That’s why “Terry’s Song” has become so beloved among fans, even those who had never heard of Terry Magovern. It reminds us of the impact, importance, and impermanence of those who loom large in our lives. For anyone who lives their life well and touches the lives of others, “Terry’s Song” is their song, too.

May it someday be yours as well.

—

“Terry’s Song” was a first for Bruce: his Magic album was already in the can, with recording finished months earlier. But Bruce decided to honor his friend by adding his song to the album as a last-minute addition. It can be found on a hidden track at the end of the album; no acknowledgement can otherwise be found on the album cover.

Bruce plays all instruments on the song. Even the backing vocals are his–this is truly a personal song.

In concert, Bruce has played it only three times, and only by dedication or request. The most recent time was in Perth in 2014, and that performance is below. Bruce performs it on his guitar only, and it’s therefore perhaps a bit skewed toward mourning instead of celebrating. That may be why Bruce doesn’t play it more often. As he said just after the performance below, “That’s a tough one to sing.”

Terry’s Song
Recorded: August 2007
Released: Magic (2007)
First performed: August 2, 2007 (Red Bank, NJ)
Last performed: February 8, 2014 (Perth, Australia)

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