"Learning to Fly": A Tom Petty Tribute

“Music is probably the only real magic I have encountered in my life. There’s not some trick involved with it. It’s pure and it’s real. It moves, it heals, it communicates and does all these incredible things.” ~ Tom Petty

I saw the above quote somewhere in the plethora of articles and tributes that have been turned out since news of Rock n’ Roll legend Tom Petty’s passing on Monday, October 2. It resonated with me because there’s so much truth in it.

It’s been a tough week for the world in general. Not only did we lose Tom Petty, but we are still reeling from the unspeakable violence that took place in Las Vegas Sunday night and the heartbreaking aftermath of so much death and suffering. On top of these news stories, my sisters’ beloved rabbit also passed away.

I’m just going to reiterate: it’s been a tough week.

But there is truly so much healing in the incredible gift of music, as Petty so aptly stated.

Petty’s music has been a part of my life for a long time, so it is especially meaningful for me. Two days after his passing, I’m still mulling over the effect the music of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers has had on my life, and I’ve come to realize that that impact is even more monumental than I had thought.

I think what Petty is getting at in the quote about music is that music has the ability to solidify memories, to bring you back to a specific time and place, to remind you of how much you love someone, to create bonds between people.

I’m glad to know that artists like Petty realize they are blessed to be able to be a part of creating such a transcendent gift for people.

I’ve known about Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers practically since I can remember. My dad always played (and I’m surprising myself I can recall this without looking it up) Rock 105.3 WRLO, the classic rock station of northern Wisconsin which was a frequent player of Tom Petty tunes. Even before this, though, I remember Tom Petty making up part of the soundtrack to fishing trips driving out to or back from Lake Oconomowoc, Pewaukee Lake, or Pine Lake while growing up in Milwaukee. I vividly remember sitting in the backseat of our tan Isuzu Trooper eating a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup and listening to the Beatles, the Steve Miller Band, The Who, and Tom Petty with my dad.

I have another memory when I am probably around 11 years old of again riding in the backseat of my dad’s vehicle (probably the first of several Chevy Suburban’s we went through as a family), this time with my siblings. Tom Petty’s “Learning to Fly” came on and I remember loving it immediately. Up until that point “Free Fallin’” had been my favorite, but I knew almost as soon as I heard “Learning to Fly” that it was a song that would mean something to me.

Another place where Tom Petty always made an appearance in my childhood was around bonfires in our backyard. My dad would always listen to baseball, but when the game ended, he either tuned into the folk music at Big Top Chautauqua or would back the Suburban up, open up the back doors and crank Tom Petty.

This was also how I was introduced to the Traveling Wilburys, a supergroup consisting of Petty, Jeff Lynne, Roy Orbison, George Harrison, Bob Dylan, and Jim Keltner. My (inherent?) love of classic guitar-based Rock n’ Roll coupled with summer nights around the bonfire drew me in effortlessly, and that pull has really never let up.

I even remember one time I found an empty CD case of a Tom Petty album on the side of the back road I used to regularly run down. I mentioned this to my dad while we were sitting around the bonfire one night and somehow he, my siblings, and I ended up playing a game to see who could come up with the better story of how that empty album got there. It’s such a random memory, but somehow now it seems to take on more meaning.

The point is, I realize I’ve loved Tom Petty’s music all through high school and college and still love it just as much today.

When I got married In 2015 I don’t remember even deliberating over what song we should use for the father/daughter dance. I didn’t even think about it in the kind of detail I’m thinking about it now, considering the history behind my and my dad’s affinity for Tom Petty’s music or the memories we shared with his music as the soundtrack.

“Learning to Fly” was naturally perfect.

I didn’t think about that whole history in detail until now, reflecting on Petty’s death and (I suppose rather selfishly) what it means for me. But as specific to my life as all these memories are, I think they get at what Petty was saying in this quote about the power of music. I hadn’t realized until recently the extent to which Petty’s music had (and will always) form a bond between me and my dad. And I can bet that there are so many people out there who could share similar stories. What greater gift for any musician, than to know your music became more than a string of notes, chords, and words, that your experience expressed through music came to mean something to someone else?

Amidst the initial confusion over reports of Petty’s death, I texted my dad what one Twitter user said: “Tom Petty was reported dead then not dead. Which makes sense because you can stand him up at the gates of hell but he won’t back down.”

That started what I like to think of as one of the best Tom Petty tributes out there. Basically, we had a 24-plus hour back-and-forth conversation completely in Tom Petty songs.

Some of that conversation went like this—and just to clarify, we meant this with respect; this is just the kind of joking relationship my dad and I have, and this kind of tongue-in-cheek tribute fits with that:

Dad: “I hope he Learned How to Fly. I hope he doesn’t end up at the Zombie Zoo.”

Me: “Yeah, or it really will be his Last Dance with Mary Jane.”

Dad: “Oh and by the way turns out you Don’t Have to Live like a Refugee.”

Me: “Well that’s good cuz the Waiting is the Hardest Part.”

Dad: “Yer So Bad. Are you Free Fallin’?

Me: “No, just Runnin’ Down a Dream.”

Dad: “Even the Losers Get Lucky Sometimes”

Me: “Not if you tell ‘em “Don’t Come Around Here No More.”

Dad: “Oh, Don’t Do Me Like That.”

Me: “Or you’ll have a Breakdown?”

Dad: “I better get going Here Comes My Girl.”

My mom even texted me after a while saying jokingly “Will you two stop that?!”

Even in death, Tom Petty continues to give me and my dad these beautiful organic moments of connection. And for that I’ll always be grateful.

R.I.P., Tom, I truly hope you are Learning to Fly. 

Author's note*: I have since read Tom Petty's biography Petty by Warren Zanes (in fact, it's been in my possession for months now - thanks, COVID-19 - maybe the library will just let me keep it?). I highly recommend this thorough record of Petty's life for any other fans!