These pictures were taken a day before his death, we see Jimi Hendrix playing with his Fender Stratocaster, posing for the camera, and enjoying a nice evening.
I remember we were running from the daunting "1970," not sure of where we were heading. The wounds from Vietnam were still fresh, and the roaring revolution and social movements simmered down and passed by, unnoticed by the masses. We felt defeated. No matter how loud our voices got, they had no ears to listen to them. We knew we were screaming down at an empty void; we just never imagined how heavy silence could be and that so few would stop and hear us out.
The decade of the nineteen sixties was over; we had to say a painful farewell to our many dreams and illusions. We lost the battle. Slowly, we saw the great industries and the "American Way of Life" gain a foothold in power, holding the reins once more and wielding life to suit their needs.
Everything we had worked so hard to build seemed to crumble and turn to dust. Obviously, everything had been an illusion: the road for equality, sexual freedom, and non discrimination was barely starting. The year "1970" was a bitter pill that was hard to swallow for many of us.
Our idols were consumed by a life of excess, and as their voices dimmed and their bodies quavered under the disillusionment, they also took our hope away. Such was the case with Jimi Hendrix, who was the first of the Greats to go, and it was a matter of time before Janis Joplin and Jim Morrison followed him. His death didn't come as a surprise, since many of us saw it coming weeks beforehand.
In the few weeks prior to his death, he had been spotted looking sickly and tired. It is believed that his illness was caused by influenza and long hours of work with no rest.
His frustration kept growing, fed by his insecurities on his private life, personal relationships, and the disappointment at the music industry. The days became monotonous and lifeless for this extraordinary guitarist who changed the world of rock forever.
It was in the early hours of September 18, in the Hotel Samarkand in Notting Hill, that his girlfriend, Monika Dannermann discovered him unconscious in bed. She called an ambulance and after several unsuccessful attempts at resuscitation, he was declared dead.
According to the autopsy, Hendrix's cause of death was inhalation of vomit due to barbiturate intoxication.
These pictures were taken a day before his death. We see Jimi playing with his Fender Stratocaster, drinking tea, collecting fruit and veg from an orchard, posing for the camera, and basically enjoying a nice, quiet evening.
Jimi and Monika walked down King's Road, bought some clothes in Chelsea and visited the Cumberland Hotel. Dannermann revealed some time later that Hendrix had taken nine Vesperan pills before going to bed, 18 times over the suggested dose.
Jimi Hendrix was one of the few legends who walked down the paths we never dared to take, and he was always one step ahead. His musical contribution and his experiments with sound spoke of a time where we dreamt of peace and where we had energy left to fight for what we believed in. Jimi pursued goals that were both great and small, and his sole interest was in music. His thoughts were misunderstood by a world used to seeing the usefulness and monetary value of an artistic act. He cherished his art form, and today he continues to hold the top position as the greatest guitar player of all time.