DISGRACELAND - Tom Petty: House Fires, Hiding a Heroin Habit, and Run-Down Dreams

Episode Date: January 25, 2022

When a mystery arsonist set Tom Petty’s house on fire in the late 1980s, he barely escaped with his life. But there was another danger looming around the corner — a heroin addiction that drove him into a pit of isolation from his family, his fame, and his bandmates. Petty barely hoisted himself of it. The Heartbreakers’ bass player, Howie Epstein, wasn't so lucky. After the first phase of Tom Petty’s career burned to the ground, the stage was set for a descent into depression, dependency, and a triumphant turn-of-the-century return. To see the full list of contributors, see the show notes at www.disgracelandpod.com.This episode was originally published on January 25, 2022.To listen to Disgraceland ad free and get access to a monthly exclusive episode, weekly bonus content and more, become a Disgraceland All Access member at disgracelandpod.com/membership.Sign up for our newsletter and get the inside dirt on events, merch and other awesomeness - GET THE NEWSLETTERFollow Jake and DISGRACELAND:InstagramYouTubeX (formerly Twitter) Facebook Fan GroupTikTok To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoicesSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

This is exactly right. Double Elvis. When a group of women discover they've all dated the same prolific con artist, they take matters into their own hands. I vowed. I will be his last target. He is not going to get away with this. He's going to get what he deserves. We always say that trust your girlfriends. Listen to the girlfriends.

Trust me, babe. On the Iheart radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Your husband is not who you think he is. Your body is not what you thought it was. Your identity is formed by a secret history. I'm Danny Shapiro. And these are just a few of the stunning stories I'll be exploring on the 14th season of Family Secrets.

He kind of shoved me out of the way and said, move. And he went out the front door and he jumped in a car and drove off. And that was the last time I saw him. Listen to Season 14 of Family Secrets, starting May 7th, on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. This season on Dear Chelsea, with me, Chelsea Handler, we have some fantastic guests like Amelia Clark.

When, like, young people come up to me and they want to be an actor or whatever. My first thing is always, can you think of anything else that you can do? You'd rather be disappointed in. Do that. David O'Yello. I love this podcast, whether it's therapy or relationships or religion or sex or addiction or you just go straight for the guts. Dennis Leary, Gaten Matarazzo from Stranger Things,

Tana Monjou, Camilla Morone, Carrie Kenny Silver, and more. Listen to these episodes of Dear Chelsea on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Disgrace Land is a production of Double Elvis. The stories about Tom Petty are insane. He barely escaped with his life

when his house was burned to the ground by a mystery arsonist. He hit a heroin addiction throughout the 1990s, which drove him into a pit of isolation from his family, his fame, and his bandmates. Speaking of bandmates,

his bass player, Howie Epstein, wasn't so lucky. And even after Tom Petty outran his heroin habit, his unexpected death in 2017 rocked the global music community to its core.

It rocked the music community because Tom Petty didn't just make great music, he made some of the greatest music of all time. Unlike that music I played for you at the top of the show, that wasn't great music. That was a preset loop from my Melotron called Crazy Like a Fox Trot, MK1. I played you that loop because I can't afford the rights to with or without you by you too. And why would I play you that specific slice of leather-vested ponytail cheese, could I afford it? Because that was the number one song in America on May 17, 1987.

And that was the day that the first phase of Tom Petty's career burned to the ground, setting the stage for a descent into depression, dependency, and then a triumphant return. On this episode, house fires, hidden heroin addictions, isolation, and America's number one heartbreaker, Tom Petty. I'm Jake Brennan, and this is disgrace land. The melting rubber scorched Tom Petty's skin. Little blisters bubbled up on his palms between his fingers. He fumbled with the molten garden hose in his hands, aimed it at the hellfire, eating way at his home. And the heat from the towering flames chapped his cheeks, cracked his lips, dried his eyes before he could shed a tear over his house crumbling to the ground.

The melted hose only spit a sad dribble. More flames burst through the windows, scaled the second floor, consumed the roof until it collapsed in on itself. Tom Petty's hopes of saving his home wilted, along with the useless rubber hose in his hands. The scream of the fire engine siren emerging from the background was his last hope. The local fire department pulled into the driveway, armed and ready to douse the fireball that was now Tom's home.

But it was too late. The flames had already fanned and from the street, Tom Petty and his wife, Jane, and their young daughter, Anakim watched their lives collapse into heaps of ash. The Encino, California home was the Petty's won residence. Tom Petty was famous, but he hadn't gone full superstar. The Heartbreaker's last album, Let Me Up, I've Had Enough. was their first album in eight years to not crack the billboard top ten.

He didn't have residences scattered all across the country on shorelines, city streets, and tucked into scenic mountains. This was his one house, his one home, and now it was toast. So too was all the irreplaceable heartbreakers memorabilia. More than a decade's worth, memories of Tom's band burned to a crisp. The only room was that we're not. to make it out unscathed was the basement, where Tom kept some at-home recording materials, and the rest was gone, roughly $1 million in damages. Annie Lennox, then visiting Dave Stewart, Tom's neighbor in the other half of Annie's band, the Erythmics, came by with some spare clothes and stood with the family in somber solidarity. May 17, 1987. It had started over breakfast. Tom,

sat down with his bacon and eggs. Jane nursed a coffee in a bowl of oatmeal. Anikin, just a small child, munched away on some cereal. But as soon as their meal started, Tom caught a whiff of smoke. Odd, nothing was on the stove, nothing in the oven either, which could only mean. Jane bolted out the front door with Anakin in her arms. Their housekeeper exited with flames licking her hairdo. Tom circled the backyard to grab the garden hose in vain. What went down next was the Petty household up in flames. But as he would soon learn, Tom wasn't the only person who had crept into the backyard that day. Shortly after the fire, arson investigators walked Tom around the back of his home

and pointed to a spot where someone had poured a hefty helping of kerosene along the back staircase. This hadn't been an errant house fire. Someone wanted to burn Tom Petty's house down. and they wanted Tom and his family to be home when it happened. The investigation rattled Tom. It rattled him much worse than losing his material possessions. It was one thing to have a chapter of your life closed out of the blue. It was another to know that that chapter had been closed by a stranger who wanted you dead. Construction on a new house in the exact same spot began in earnest,

but with no place to call home, the petty family packed up to join. Tom on the road that year with Bob Dylan. Tom didn't realize this would be some of his family's final moments of true togetherness. As the tour bus hit the road, only one thing was for sure. In more ways than one, Tom Petty was about to start all over. Tom snickered from behind his plastic slingshot. He had good aim for a kid, but great aim for a five-year-old. So good that he had just successfully redecorated the fin of a passing stranger's 55 caddy with a handful of rocks he had dug up in the backyard. Nailed him on the first try, he chuckled to himself. He couldn't understand why the red-faced driver of the Cadillac felt the need to pull over and shake his fist at him. Tom stared back

with his boyish blue eyes, totally blankfaced, no remorse, a five-year-old, a born rebel. The driver, beyond pissed. He slammed the heavy door. the Cadillac and marched up to the Petty's front steps, pounded his meaty hand against the door. The man's rage alerted Tom's mother to the scene. She listened to the drivers of sanity-laced ramp before profusely apologizing for her son's wicked behavior. Your father's not going to like this, she warned Tom. And he didn't. Tom's father, Earl Petty, didn't even speak to him when he arrived home from work that day, didn't offer any words of admonishment. He entered the living room with his belt and his hand, already undone from the loops of his jeans. His knuckles

went white around the leather. Before Tom's heart froze, it skipped half a dozen beats. That remorse was coming after all. His father raised the belt buckle over his head like he was winding up for an all-star pitch, and he struck Tom. By the time Earl Petty was finished with the punishment, Tom Petty could hardly walk to his room as he was ordered to. His mother and grandmother came in later to tend to the purple welts that had sprouted all over his body, dousing him with ointments and gauze. Nursing him back to health was a two-woman job. Tom had suspected it before, but now he really knew it. His father, Earl, Earl Petty, was a man driven by rage, a rage that had been simmering just below boiling since he himself was a boy, since back when

he was no more than Tom's age now. It was hard to be half white in America. Even harder to be half white in the south. Earl's mother was Cherokee, Earl's father a white lumber worker from Georgia. He took his new bride to Reddick, Florida, where they fostered a self-sufficient, albeit poor, farming life. The walls of their shack were covered not with wallpaper, but newspaper. They trudged through the dirt just to use the outhouse, the smell of chicken shit in the air. Earl's mother almost never left their humble homestead. Her skin was far too dark to show around town where any shade beyond Lily White raised eyebrows and inevitably raised some fists too. So home is where she stayed, every day at all hours.

She was so much of a family secret that Tom wasn't even sure of her real name. Sally, maybe. Earl and his twin sister Pearl had to watch their backs around town too. Half white meant you were half not white, and that was an easy way to earn a random. him ass whooping by some racist bastard with nothing better to do. These were not the makings of a happy young man, and Earl Petty seemed to know it. As a young adult, he uprooted his anger and started a new life in Gainesville. But his contemptful disposition followed him into adulthood and into fatherhood, too.

Earl was prone to anger, prone to knocking back a few too many bottles, prone to anger especially after knocking back a few too many bottles. Tom was almost always his punching back. His relationship with his father was little more than a formality. As far as young Tom was concerned, that was normal. It wasn't until later in life that Tom would realize that fathers were supposed to do more than bring home bacon and beat their children. He didn't know any other way, though. But there was one hand-me-down from Earl that Tom would put to good use someday. Such good use that he'd rake in more record sales and royalties than almost any other musician in the country. So good that Papa Petty would one day come crawling back with a sudden change of heart.

And that hand me down was a rage. There's two golden rules that any man should live by. Rule one, never mess with a country girl. You play stupid games, you get stupid prizes. And rule two, never mess with her friends either. We always say that trust your girlfriends. I'm Anna Sinfield, and in this new season of the girlfriends, Oh my God, this is the same man.

A group of women discover they've all dated the same prolific con artist. I felt like I got hit by a truck. I thought, how could this happen to me? The cops didn't seem to care, so they take matters into their own hands. I said, oh, hell no. I vowed I will be his last target. He's going to get what he deserves. Listen to the girlfriends.

Trust me, babe. On the Iheart radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcast. This season on Dear Chelsea, with me, Chelsea Handler, we have some fantastic guests like Amelia Clark. When, like, young people come up to me and they want to be an actor or whatever. My first thing is always,

can you think of anything else that you can do? Rather be disappointed in. Do that. Dennis Leary. I wake up, and I'm hitting. him in the head with a water bomb. And Bruce Jenner is on the aisle in a karate stance, like he's about to attack me, like, making karate noises. And his entire, the Kardashian family over there, everybody's going, and the air marshal is trying to grab my arms and screaming.

And I immediately know that I've been asleep walking. David O'Yellow-I. I love this podcast, whether it's therapy or relationships or religion or sex or addiction or you just go straight for the guts. Guy Branham. So anyway, Nicole Kidman broke up with Keith Thurban. Being half of a country couple was always a hat she was going to wear, not like a life she was going to lead. Oh, interesting. I like that. Did you practice that on your way over? Gaten Matarazzo from Stranger Things. Tana Monsu. Camilla Morone at Carrie Kenny Silver. And more. Listen to these episodes of Dear Chelsea on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcast, or wherever you get your podcast.

Remember when you'd walk into your local video rental place and there were always those two employees behind the counter arguing about movies? Well, that's us. I'm Millie de Cherico. And I'm Casey O'Brien. And now we're arguing about movies on our podcast. Dear Movies I Love You from the Exactly Right Network. Can I say something about the criterion closet? Go ahead, dude. They're letting too many people in there. Okay, that's another film grape I got two. Sadly, that rental place doesn't exist anymore. It's probably a story. that sells running shoes. Or an ice cream shop with an extra pee and an E at the end.

So consider us your slacker movie clerks in podcast form. I would like to establish a timeline of the moment you figured out who Channing Tatum was. Every Tuesday, we dig into the movies we can't stop obsessing over, from hidden gems to big screen favorites. New episodes drop every week on the exactly right network. Listen to Dear Movies I Love You on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. The feedback could pierce eardrums. So too could the howl of the arena,

packed with people shrieking his name out loud, enchanting the iconic choruses of his songs. Tom Petty cut through the rumbles of applause with a high-voltage improvised guitar solo. But now, it was all absent, all lost in time, all silent. The 1990s were half over. Tom Petty was at home in Pacific Palisades, California, nearly a decade after the fire that destroyed his family's home.

He was alone. No wife, no children scampering around the halls. No bandmates calling, no buzz of a practice ham filling the silence. Tom hunched over his half-eaten deli sandwich at his kitchen table and recalled his day thus far. Woke up at nine, cradled himself in bed till noon, roused himself from the smog of depression to visit the local sandwich shop, shuffled over alone, unrecognized, brought his sub home, cut it in half with a dirty knife, ate it slowly, he was in no rush. There was nothing much to do today, and there was nothing much to do any day, it seemed. It was nearly two o'clock now. That was as long as he could go without dipping into his stash, as long as he could go

without the new constant in his life, heroin. The previous pillars of Tom Petty's life had crumbled. You could say the house fire in Encino was a warning for the demolition coming his way in just a few years. It started with his divorce from Jane. That's what landed him here in Palisades a few years prior. He and Jane had been drifting for a while before the lawyers and legal paperwork entered the picture. But finally pulling the plug on the marriage that was pulling apart their family, that was the hardest part.

Tom's time in the studio also pulled him away all too frequently. Ever since the marathon sessions in 1979 with Jimmy Iovine for his breakthrough record, Damn the Torpedoes, the one with his first major hits, incredible songs really refugee and don't do me like that. Tom had sought perfection in the studio, no matter how long it took to find it. And if he gets stuck on a song,

he'd keep working until he was unstuck. Now Tom was the one who was stuck, at home, alone, addicted. The isolation kept his memories healthy, fresh, incubated, the bittersweet ones about when his family was still together, the bad ones about his father's fists from when he was just a boy. In the years since, Tom's ascent to anthemic American icon status, Earl Petty reconsidered the way he felt towards his son, likely fueled by his new status as,

as Tom Petty's dad, a title that opened doors and blouses for him all over Gainesville. But it was too late. Tom saw through his father's sudden smiles. Worse, he also saw unlikely parallels between the two of them. Sure, Tom never raised a hand to any of his children as his father did to him, but he did defuse his anger with his fists on a few unlucky walls. And Tom didn't throw back drinks like his old man did, but it's not like shooting heroin was a healthy alternative. Heroin was the new constant in his life, his sole consolation. That and maybe the deli sandwiches. So before the silence could close in on him completely that afternoon, Tom found a clean needle and sunk into a different kind of quiet, just a little something to force a sense of content.

Being alone hadn't always been so ugly. Tom parted from the harper, Breakers for a spell in 1987, and after a creative rebirth as Charlie T. Wilbury Jr., alongside his idol Roy Orbison, and the classic rock supergroup The Traveling Wilburys with Bob Dylan and George Harrison and Jeff Lynn, Tom came down with full moon fever. Most of the band hadn't been thrilled about his sudden decision to go solo, if only temporarily. He brought the Heartbreakers on that tour with him, though, and the public didn't seem to put up too much of a fuss. When the record dropped in 1989, Tom Petty's career exploded under the guidance of his solitary vision.

Name the first three Tom Petty songs that come to mind, and one of them is likely on full-moon fever. Free Fallen, Running Down a Dream, I Won't Back Down, Classics, Must Know is in the Rock and Roll Canon. These songs are so ubiquitous that they are impossible to not know, and for good reason. They are FM dial pop song gold. Critics called it his commercial peak. Full Moon Fever might not only be Tom Petty's commercial peak,

it might be FM radio's commercial peak. Never before had an artist raised on FM radio, so fully mastered and exploited FM radio. Everything Tom learned from his days listening to the radio as a boy in Gainesville, from Elvis Presley and Little Richard to the birds, the Rolling Stones, all of it is synthesized on full moon. fever into the perfect combination of pop creativity and commercialism. The blueprint Hank Williams started, pop songs too catchy for radio to ignore and too deep

to not be listened to repeatedly is refined and perfected on full moon fever. An FM radio benefited from it as much as Tom Petty did as listeners flocked to the dial repeatedly to tune him in. In the summer and fall of 1989 and even into the spring of 1990, for a year, year, Full Moon Fever dominated the airwaves from coast to coast. The album was on the charts for 77 weeks. It spawned six singles, five of which charted and three of which went to number one on Billboard's top mainstream rock songs chart. Over 30 years later, its songs remain a staple of FM radio, and it continues to sell, having gone five times platinum in both the U.S. and the UK.

With full moon fever, Tom Petty had reached the top of the top. the top of the commercial mountain. And in 1994, with wildflowers, Tom Petty reached the top of the creative mountain. A masterpiece, possibly Petty's finest full length, produced in collaboration with heavy metal and hip-hop guru Rick Rubin. The songs on wildflowers are that of a songwriter at the peak of his powers, walking the creative tightrope of risk without a net and too confident to give a fuck.

The songs on wildflowers rock effortlessly. rock effortlessly in one moment and roll over easy in the next. You know, rock and roll. But either way, Tom Petty put his rage at front and center when he recorded. Rage from his father's abuse, rage over the breakup, rage over the record companies that had once tried to bend him over and screw him. And when he couldn't get a song to sound the way he wanted it to sound, he responded with rage.

Back in the fall of 1984, when recording a previous master, stroke southern accents. It was late, or early, it didn't matter. It was 4 a.m., but it felt like 4 p.m., thank you very much, cocaine. It was taking forever to get the songs right. They sounded nothing like the demo recordings. And the more he worked on matching the raw emotional impact of the demos, the further he got away from it.

And maybe he should just trash the songs. Weeks of work down the fucking dream. Tom stood up in the control room and began to walk to the, the next room. His frustration boiled over. Fuck. The frustration made his arm hot. Without thinking, he cocked his arm back quickly and swatted the back of his hand against the wall. Concrete. Tom heard bones crack. He felt the crunch of his fingers all the way into his molars. His knuckles were red with blood. The surgery took four hours. Doctors filled his hand with wires and pins. and they told him he'd never play guitar again.

Never play again. Tom felt the rage bubble up again. He would prove the doctor's wrong. And he did. Rage got him in this predicament, but it also got him out. He took it day by day, chord by chord, played through the pain. He got his tendons and muscles moving again. Soon he was playing entire songs again and writing songs too.

And the songs were often sweeter than expected, especially some of the more tender songs on wildflowers. But they were sweet only because so many parts of Tom's life had already gone sour. And despite those sweet solo successes, there was such a thing as too much independence, too much alone time. And though fellow heartbreakers Mike Campbell and Ben Montauch did play on wildflowers just as they had on full moon fever,

Tom was ready again for the full band experience and to reconnect with the entire band as a creative unit. But their reunion, immediately after the release of Wildflowers, got off to a bumpy start. Their 1996 album, a soundtrack to the movie She's the One, was a colossal commercial failure. It wasn't the band's fault. When the release of the Ed Burns written and directed indie films

starring Jennifer Aniston and Cameron Diaz was pushed back nearly three weeks, no one bothered to push back the soundtrack, too. And who wanted a soundtrack to a movie that didn't even exist yet? She's the one, sold only 490,000 copies, pitiful in comparison to Tom Petty and the Heartbreaker sales track record. So much for a triumphant, heartwarming heartbreakers reunion. Heartbreaker's bassist at the time, Howie Epstein, was faring worse than anyone. Howie was using heroin.

Unlike Tom's more secret habit, Howie had nothing to hide. Howie had used since the Southern accent days, more than 10 years ago at this point. And from what Tom could tell, things weren't looking up for Howie. Not only was using heroin a dangerous dance, but both he and Howie were older in their 40s, ancient in the world of junkies. If 20-somethings rarely made it out from under heroin addictions, how could they expect to? How could they even step outside to take their next record echo on the road if drugs kept Tom glued to the dull safety of his home

and kept Howie glued to a needle no matter where he went. Tom had spent enough time at home, enough weeks motionless in bed, enough hours gazing at the same four walls with glazed over eyes. The studio and the tour bus were the only places he had ever truly felt secure, satisfied, happy. Heroin didn't actually give him those things.

It was an empty illusion, faker than his father's sudden house. admiration. The feeling of the road, the roar of the stadium crowd, that was real, raw, righteous. Tom was jonesing for those feelings more than anything, heroin be damned. He fell into this dependency alone, started shooting up alone, lived alone, languished alone. He couldn't hold out like this forever alone. Time for Tom Petty to commit to recovery. And only then could he feel free. be right back after this word, word, word. There's two golden rules that any man should live by.

Rule one, never mess with a country girl. You play stupid games, you get stupid prizes. And rule two, never mess with her friends either. We always say that trust your girlfriends. I'm Anna Sinfield, and in this new season of the girlfriends, oh my God, this is the same man. A group of women discover they've all dated the same. same prolific con artist.

I felt like I got hit by a truck. I thought, how could this happen to me? The cops didn't seem to care. So they take matters into their own hands. I said, oh, hell no. I vowed. I will be his last target. He's going to get what he deserves. Listen to the girlfriends.

Trust me, babe. On the Iheart radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcast. This season on Dear Chelsea, with me, Chelsea Handler, we have some fantastic guests. like Amelia Clark. When like young people come up to me and they want to be an act or whatever

my first thing is always can you think of anything else that you can do. You'd rather be disappointed in. Do that. Dennis Leary. I wake up and I'm hitting him in the head with a water bomb.

And Bruce Jenner is on the aisle in a karate stance like he's about to attack me. Like making karate noises. And his entire the Kardashian family over there, everybody's going, And the air marshal is trying to grab my arms and screaming.

I immediately know that I've been asleep walking. David O'Yellowo. I love this podcast, whether it's therapy or relationships or religion or sex or addiction or you just go straight for the guts. Guy Branham. So anyway, Nicole Kidman broke up with Keith Thurban. Being half of a country couple was always a hat she was going to wear, not like a life she was going to lead. Oh, interesting. I like that.

Did you practice that on your way over? Gaten Madarazzo from Stranger Things. Tana Monsu. Camilla Marone, Carrie Kenny Silver, and more. Listen to these episodes of Dear Chelsea on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Remember when you'd walk into your local video rental place

and there were always those two employees behind the counter arguing about movies? Well, that's us. I'm Millie to Cheriko. And I'm Gets. Casey O'Brien. And now we're arguing about movies on our podcast, Dear Movies I Love You, from the Exactly Right Network.

Can I say something about the Criterion Clause? Go ahead, dude. They're letting too many people in there. Okay. That's another film, Gripe I got to. Sadly, that rental place doesn't exist anymore. It's probably a store that sells running shoes. Or an ice cream shop with an extra pee and an E at the end.

So consider us your slacker movie clerks in podcast form. I would like to establish a timeline of the most. moment you figured out who Channing Tatum was. Every Tuesday, we dig into the movies we can't stop obsessing over, from hidden gems to big screen favorites. New episodes drop every week on the exactly right network. Listen to Dear Movies I Love You on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.

Tom Petty wasn't scared, but he did ask the doctor to explain the procedure again. He wanted to make sure he understood before he fully surrendered. First, the doctor said Tom would fall asleep. Then the doctor would administer a drug, a special drug, one powerful enough to force the remaining heroin in his body out through muscle spasms. Narlie. If that's what it took to get clean before the heartbreakers echo tour, then that's what Tom was going to do.

For years, his heroin addiction had been a very private affair. It wasn't about to pack it up and take it on the road with him like his favorite Rickenbocker. It had to go. Especially since, producer Rick Rubin had gone behind his back and told his daughters about his little issue. Such a below-the-belt move and from a close friend too, it infuriated Tom. But his fury from the situation moved his recovery forward. He decided to undergo treatment professionally from a hospital bed, armed with the right tools and medical personnel. Going cold turkey hadn't cut it, so he brought

in the big guns, rather the big drugs. Tom wouldn't feel so much. Tom wouldn't feel so much. much as a tickle the doctor promised. But when it came time for the treatment to begin, Tom didn't even feel himself fall asleep. What was sleep anyway? You were too bold to ever fully give yourself over to it, and thus the weight, the heaviness, like a thick, heavy blanket bearing down on you. It kept you still, kept you grounded, be honest, you liked it. It was a marked difference from reality. A high wire act of rock and roll, up, up in a way, floating, always in the ascendant. At least that's what it looked like to everyone else anyhow. But you knew the truth. It was sometimes a mirage. Sometimes you were free-falling, but don't tell them that. Quiet the crowd.

Just like on stage, stretch your arms out like wings, float, bring a single finger to your lips. And they'd respond because they didn't know. Neither did some of your kids. contemporaries, nor your heroes. Dell didn't know, poor bastard. Bob didn't care. Prince knew it in his bones and it was this. If you weren't on the rise, then you were on the decline. That's the nasty little bit about pop music. There is no status quo. There is no leveling out. It's all up, up and away. Running down a dream sounds poetic, but it's fucking exhausting. The running bit, that's what they don't tell you. It's an endless marathon. The sleep, or your version, of it, it helped, and this time in more ways than one.

When Tom Petty opened his eyes again, he felt like he was emerging from a healthy hibernation. His eyes shifted to the nearby nurse. Did it work? he asked. Oh, it worked all right. How long have I been out? Two, the nurse replied. Two hours, Tom asked. Two days, the nurse corrected him. Tom blinked at her in shock. Two fucking days. That's one way to set out the worst of the withdrawals. With the right medical team literally by his side, Tom halted his heroin use entirely.

After the two-day knockout that had cleaned the dope from his system, he established a new routine. Once a day, a doctor or nurse would come by with a special pill for Tom, specifically designed to block the effects of opioids. It would block any temptation to relapse too. And there was no use shooting up if all you could feel was the prick of the needle and the sting of remorse. After he took the pill, the doctor would fetch a flashlight and take a peek inside Tom's mouth to make sure that he did, in fact, swallow it and

wasn't hiding it under his tongue or in the pocket of his cheek to spit out after they left, just like a rebellious little kid at the doctor's office. It was a ritual that Tom came to appreciate. It provided real proof that things were turning around, that he was closer to feeling like himself again, that he was closer to the road again, closer to hearing life and surround sound again. But he had to start that journey from where it was the most quiet, work his way back to the deafening roar of a stadium show, and the treatment was reinvigorating his musical dreams. He would be 50 soon, able to enter the great wide open of performing live once again, and he only hoped his bassist would be able to do the same. After 56 shows and

four months on the road, the Echo Tour ended in October 1999, and so did Howie Epstein's time as a heartbreaker. Two planes awaited the band in Indianapolis. One pointed towards the sunny shores of the Bahamas, where Howie could check into rehab and check out of his rock and roll lifestyle for his spell, the preferred choice. Another plane was headed for Van Nuys, California, home, the opposite direction from recovery. The wrong choice. The goal was to make choosing recovery as easy as possible. Who could say no to the Bahamas? Who could say no when that private jet was right there in front of you?

Howie could actually, and how he did, repeatedly, for an hour. No number of examples why could sway him, no number of wake-up calls. Like the fact that Howie wasn't even on the cover of Echo. He had unabashedly missed the cover shoe for fuck's sake. Howie had just spent a good chunk of a year touring for an album that his face was completely missing for. from Howie blew it. When the rest of the heartbreakers got together to shoot that now iconic group black and white photo in fields of gold, they did it without Howie. The band didn't need an explanation. They didn't know where he was or who he was with, but they knew exactly what he was doing.

They knew what he was choosing over the band, where his priorities lied. Howie hung heroin over heartbreakers. And with everyone already in position, the other heartbreakers moved forward with the shoot. On the final cover art, the band's bodies appear slightly blurred from behind the barren branches in front of them with one familiar face noticeably absent. Howie's disconnect from the band was on display right there on the cover for the world to see. But even when he was present, he required upkeep, more upkeep than the usual for someone of his top-tier rock stature. Crew members were hired not just to push cases, but to placate Howie during the inevitable withdrawals at bookended shows and interstate travel.

Unlike Tom, Howie had no shame. As the band bickered, the promise of the Bahamas grew cold. It was clear that Howie wouldn't budge. This habit, this indulgence of more than a decade, was ingrained in him. It was a package deal, Howie and heroin till the end. When Howie boarded the plane to Van Nuys for all intents and purposes, he departed the heartbreakers for good. drug counselors advised the band to let him go. They explained how the quote-unquote rock and roll lifestyle would make it harder for him to quit,

even though Tom himself wasn't using anymore. Heroin was only presented because Howie insisted upon it. Howie could argue with the band all he wanted, but the band couldn't argue with his counselors. The decision to fire Howie hurt, but if it helped, that's all the band wanted. At this point, however, Heartbreaker or not, Howie Epstein was beyond help. When Howie Epstein heard the police siren, he didn't have to look in the rearview mirror

to see if it was him that the cop was tailing. He just knew. It's over, Carleen. Pull the car over. He instructed from the passenger seat. The car's tires kicked up red dust as it pulled over on Interstate 25 somewhere under the moonlight cloaking Albuquerque, New Mexico.

June 26, 2001. Howie Epstein and Carleen Carter had been romantically and professionally involved since the late 80s, shortly after Carleen's divorce from the Jesus of Cool, Nick Lowe. Carleen was the daughter of June Carter Cash and country singer Carl Smith. That meant her stepdad was none other than Johnny Cash. She seemingly inherited the Cash family's longstanding outlaw swagger, which Howie witnessed firsthand when the heartbreakers backed the man in black for his 1996 album Unchained. Technically, Carleen was pulled over for speeding, but speeding

was the least of the pair's worries right now. Carleen and Howie had two things to hide. One, Carleen was driving a stolen car, a 2001 Jeep Grand Cherokee that they had lifted from a car car dealership in Santa Fe three months ago, and there was no way that could fly under the radar, not if the cop asked for the registration, which of course he would. Two, Carleen had a hefty drug stash hidden among her clothes in the back seat, just waiting to be uncovered. But stash was putting it mildly. Carleen was packing 2.9 grams of black tar heroin,

along with an assortment of drug paraphernalia. Maybe just maybe that would go unnoticed, but not likely. Once the pair was booked for the stolen car, the cops turned the jeeps interior inside out. Carleen took the rap for the drugs and claimed sole ownership for the stash, but it almost didn't matter. It was all over the news that Howie Epstein, former bass player for Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers,

was caught red-handed in a stolen car with Johnny Cash's stepdaughter and enough heroin to be strung out for a century. Nobody cared who was charged with what. The public knew why he left the heartbreakers or more accurately why the heartbreakers had left Howie. Now he was only proving the band right. He was 45 years old, a grown man and still nothing but trouble.

Still, a junkie, junked by one of the greatest rock groups of all time. The headlines prepared the world for what they're about to see a year later, when Howie Epstein appeared with the heartbreakers at the band's Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremony. It was just what everyone expected. Howie was wiry and worn, beaten down by nearly 20 years of heroin use. His cheek sunk into his sallow face. His hair was disheveled and greasy, but not in that cool rock and roll refugee sort of way.

More like the I didn't look in the mirror today kind of way. The I Need Help way. That ashen image would be the snapshot that lingered in everyone's mind when the news broke on February 23, 2003. Howie Epstein was dead. He was 47 years old, young, even by aging rocker standards. Tom Petty had chills. He mourned in his own way from afar.

He didn't attend Howie's funeral, didn't make the trip up to Milwaukee to pay his respects. The heartache over losing a heartbreaker was, well, heartbreaking. He could hardly believe he had been on the same track only a few years ago, that he had been able to escape heroin's soul-sucking grip, but that Howie hadn't. Howie didn't live to see Tom return to the Rock Hall, this time to pay tribute to George Harrison alongside Prince. Howie didn't get to see the sweat drip down the heartbreaker's faces on live television as the band took the stage in Glendale, Arizona, for the honor of playing the Super Bowl 42 halftime show. He never heard the solid late career releases that were Mojo or Hypnotic Eye,

the band's final studio sessions. Tom Petty reaped all of this, the many rewards of recovery. But then, the opiates came for him, too. It was nothing, not a big deal, just a cracked hip, a little slip during a big rehearsal. A rehearsal for the Heartbreaker's 40th anniversary tour in 2017. Tom Petty wasn't about to cancel 50-plus shows and disappoint three generations of Heartbreakers fans.

Over what? A little fall? Tom was 66, but he wasn't feeble yet. Quite the opposite. He was tough as hell. He survived 40 years of this rock and roll life. The anniversary was proof of his stamina, musically and physically. Doctors claimed Tom had a choice, that he could bail on the tour, undergo hip replacement surgery, and stay cooped up in recovery, twiddling his thumbs until he could perform again. And he'd be at home alone. No, no more of that. Tom was going out on tour. The way he saw it, there was no other option. Backing down meant letting down literally thousands of people. Tom Petty played all 53 shows while nursing a fractured hip. The pain pierced through every performance. The painkillers numbed some of the sensations, but they couldn't quiet the dreaded sounds of his injury. The bones grinding, clicking, cracking, overtaking the muting. music in Tom's mind. The rage boiled in his brain that his 40th anniversary tour had to be spent like this in complete agony since the relief from the fentany had been prescribed. It had never

lasted long enough. He wince through the pain radiating from his hip into his abdomen, the pain pulsing down his leg. Pain in Dallas. Pain in Nashville. Pain in Tampa. Pain in Napa. Pain in Pittsburgh. Pain in Cleveland. Pain in Boston. Pain in Boston. Pain in Boston. Pain in Boston. Pain in Boston. Austin painted the Hollywood Bowl, and then, overnight, there was no pain at all. And there was no Tom Petty to complete the tour in New York. Prices for legendary singer Tom Petty. The rock star best known as the frontman of Tom Petty, and the heartbreakers is on life support tonight. He was rushed to the hospital after he was found unconscious in his home.

He apparently suffered a full cardiac arrest and may still be on life support. Unfortunately, we have some more breaking news to tell you tonight the death of a rock and roll icon. Tom Petty died tonight at the age of 66 after suffering cardiac arrest. Tom Petty, the longtime manager of Tom Petty and the heartbreakers, confirming his death just a few minutes ago. Tom Petty was 66. He survived by his wife and two daughters. First came the cardiac arrest, which left him unconscious at home in Malibu. Then came the sickly beep of his life support at UCLA Medical Center. Then Tom Petty circled back to silence.

Forever. His rage ran dry. Doctors blamed it on a fatal mix of medications. Fentino, oxycodone, tamazepam, appraisalam, acetanolam, Despropiano fentanyone, all circulating in Tom's veins when he died. According to a report from Rolling Stone magazine, those last two drugs, both derivatives of fentanyl were illicit, black market fodder. Tom's family declined to comment,

instead pointing their fingers strictly at his fentanyl patch, both prescribed and palliative. Fentinol, an opiate just like heroin, except 30 to 50 times stronger. Now it was the fan's turn to feel that feeling. that rage. And they felt it when they thought about a life gone too soon. And they felt it when they thought about a life that didn't have to end that way. And Tom Petty had fought to end his freefall towards an early death and he won, or so he thought. And the fans were left with his music and his

memory, but also with rage that can never be resolved. It would never bring him back. Is a disgrace. I'm Jake Brennan. And this is Disgraceland. Disgraceland was created by yours truly and is produced in partnership with Double Elvis. Credits for this episode can be found on the show notes page at disgracelandpod.com. If you're listening as a Disgraceland All Access member, thank you for supporting the show. We really appreciate it. And if not, you can become a member right now by going to disgracelandpod.com slash membership. Members can listen to every episode of Disgraceland ad free.

Plus, you'll get one brand new exclusive episode every month. weekly unscripted bonus episodes, special audio collections, and early access to merchandise and events. Visit disgracelampod.com slash membership for details. Rate and review the show and follow us on Instagram, TikTok, Twitter, and Facebook at DisgracelandPod, and on YouTube at YouTube.com slash at disgraceland pod. Rockerola.

When a group of women discover they've all dated the same prolific con artist, they take matters into their own hands. I vowed. I will be his last target. He is not going to get away with this. He's going to get what he deserves. We always say that trust your girlfriends. Listen to the girlfriends. Trust me, babe.

On the Iheart radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Your husband is not who you think he is. Your body is not what you thought it was. Your identity is formed by a secret history. I'm Danny Shapiro. And these are just a few of the stunning stories I'll be exploring on the 14th season of Family Secrets. He kind of shoved me out of the way and said, move.

And he went out the front door and he jumped in a car and drove off. And that was the last time I saw him. Listen to Season 14 of Family Secrets starting May 7th on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. This season on Dear Chelsea, with me, Chelsea Handler, we have some fantastic guests like Amelia Clark. When, like, young people come up to me and they want to be an actor or whatever. And my first thing is always, can you think of anything else that you can do?

You'd rather be disappointed in. Do that. David O'Yelloo. I love this podcast, whether it's therapy or relationships or religion or sex or addiction or you just go straight for the guts. Dennis Leary, Gait and Moderato from Stranger Things. Tena Monsu. Camilla Morone. Carrie Kenny Silver.

and more. Listen to these episodes of Dear Chelsea on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.