Two friends of ours are writing a show about John Denver. They asked me to jot down some memories of his visit to Beijing when I was living there as a kid. I sent this draft along to them and thought I’d share it here too.

We were living in Beijing, China around 1980 when John Denver came through (this was third or fourth grade for me). There were few Americans in Beijing at the time, so the visit was surprisingly intimate.

I remember having him over to dinner at our apartment. I don’t know how the invitation happened, exactly, but John Denver was a major rock star in our home—the family sound track. He accompanied our road trips, was my first choice to peck out on the piano after lessons, and “Leaving on a Jet Plane” was the anthem we sang whenever my father flew off on trips. We had a young woman named Annie living with us at the time, and she was so excited that I thought she was going to pass out when he came through the door.

Of the conversation that night I don’t remember much. From my perspective, it was typical adult banter, not very exciting. I recall snippets about his trip, his song-writing process, and life back home in the states. It was all very easy-going, and Denver was funny and personable. The only thing that sticks from the conversation is his explanation of how his vocal range improved over the course of a tour. At the beginning of a tour he couldn’t hit the highest notes but his voice would loosen up further after each show. By the end of the tour, he had access to his full range.

Annie and I scored the best seats at dinner, flanking him, and he remained gregarious and fun. He asked if we had any requests for the concert the following night, and I asked for “Grandma’s Feather Bed,” the best song EVER. Annie, of course, requested “Annie’s Song.”

The next evening was the concert at the embassy—a small gathering in the ambassador’s living room. Kids sat on the soft rug up front with parents on chairs and couches behind. This was probably my first real concert, or at least the first one that I enjoyed. I remember it being a glorious night with lots of spontaneous dancing and laughter. Denver took requests for most of the show. For some of his obscure songs he couldn’t remember all the lines, so he would make them up or ask the audience for help. The kids found this endlessly amusing. There were also a few songs that went too high, so he couldn’t pull them off. Most of them, though, were perfect. At some point I raised my hand and reminded him to play his best song, Grandma’s Feather Bed, prompting laughter from the grown-ups. He played it with verve as we leaped and laughed.

That’s all I remember from the concert. As I grew up and developed my own tastes, John Denver fell out of favor. He represented my parents’ music—not cool. Twenty-some years after the Beijing concert, however, and a few years after Denver’s death, I bought an iPod and visited the iTunes store; my first purchase was, “An Evening With John Denver.”