Broken Promises
Through the enchanting influence of her keyboardist and confidant, Stephen Ryder, Janis managed to dodge the clutches of narcotics for several weeks. She made her roommate, Travis Rivers, with whom she cohabited in a bohemian San Francisco apartment, swear a solemn oath that needles were forbidden in their dwelling. But one fateful night, bandmate and drummer Dave Getz escorted her home, only to find the house filled with Travis’s guests indulging in the very vice they’d sworn to avoid.
Drummer Getz reminisced about a moment of sheer chaos. “Janis was on the verge of a meltdown. I’d never witnessed a human being detonate like that!” He recalled. As Travis sauntered in, she lashed out, her voice echoing with betrayal, “We had a pact! You swore this wouldn’t happen in my presence!” I was out of my depth, trying to pacify her. “It’s just mescaline,” I offered, misunderstanding the situation. “You don’t get it! I can’t bear to watch this!” she sobbed.