It was 1959 in San Francisco. A sudden storm swept through the city, cutting the power right in the middle of The Kingston Trio’s show. The microphones died. The lights went black. For a moment, there was nothing — just silence and the soft rustle of an audience unsure what to do next. Then… a single guitar strummed. Bob Shane’s voice rose in the darkness, joined by the other two — raw, unamplified, pure. They sang “Tom Dooley” the way it was meant to be heard — honest and close. And one by one, tiny flames flickered to life across the room. The audience had lit matches, hundreds of them, turning that dark club into a sea of warm light. Later, Bob would say quietly, “That night, we didn’t need electricity — just heart.”
It was 1959 in San Francisco, the kind of night when the fog rolled low and the rain danced across…