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despite Jimmy’s preoccupation with the supernatural, he rarely discussed his dabbling in the occult with the rest of the band. One of our roadies once said to me, “I tried to broach the subject once, and Jimmy went into a rage. I’d never raise the issue again.”
    Jimmy was fascinated with the whole idea of black magic, and in the hours after learning of Bonzo’s death, I began to wonder just how powerful his obsessions were. Jimmy owned a home that once belonged to Aleister Crowley, the British poet who experimented with spells, rituals, séances, heroin, and “sexual magick.” Jimmy’s neighbors were convinced that the house was haunted, and they told stories about a young man who was once decapitated there, with his head rolling down the stairs like a basketball.
    After Bonzo died, the London tabloids had a field day. They blared with headlines like “A Jinx Haunts Led Zeppelin.” According to one British reporter, “Bonham died as retribution for guitarist Jimmy Page’s obsession with the occult.”
    Jimmy became furious with that kind of journalism. “They just don’t know what they’re talking about,” he roared. “They should keep their ignorance to themselves.”
    As I sat in my cell, my thoughts kept returning to the possibility of a hex. Was Led Zeppelin susceptible to cataclysms because of some type of undefinable evil force? Was Jimmy’s fascination with the occult somehow responsible? Or had our own hard living and personal excesses finally caught up with us?
    Whatever the reason, I knew that Led Zeppelin would never be the same, if the band survived at all. Even before Bonham’s death, during those first few weeks in the Italian prison, I had tried to deal with my predicament by repeatedly telling myself, “This is going to be over any day. I’ll be out of here, I’ll be off heroin, and I’ll join the band for their American tour. Things will be good again, just like they had been in the early days.”
    But John Bonham’s death forced me back to reality. Not only would I have to deal with my grief over the loss of a friend, but I knew Led Zeppelin itself was finished. Over the years, even though the band had never talked about anyone dying, they realized there was the possibility that one of them might decide to leave the group.
    â€œIf that happens,” Jimmy said matter-of-factly, “that will be the end of Led Zeppelin. The organization will close down. Why bother going on after that?”
    Bonham was such an integral part of the band. He and Robert in particular had known each other as young musicians, years before Led Zeppelin. And although they had their fights and disagreements—usually over petty matters like who was going to pay for the petrol in one of their cars—they had a strong emotional bond. I couldn’t imagine Robert singing with anyone other than Bonham behind him. It would be like trying to drive a car with three wheels. When Karac died, Robert had put his arms around Bonham at the funeral and said, “You’re my oldest mate, Bonzo; I can count on you to always be there for me, can’t I?”
    Â 
    Jimmy put it bluntly: “It would be an insult to find a replacement for John Bonham in order to keep Led Zeppelin aloft.”

3
ROBERT
    R obert, why would you want to waste your life in a rock band? You have an opportunity for a wonderful education and a good career. Don’t let yourself get sidetracked. Don’t blow it.”
    The words were spoken by Robert Plant, Sr., whose son was itching for a life as a rock singer. For the elder Plant—a civil engineer who felt more comfortable with Beethoven than the Beatles—his son’s musical ambitions were becoming his own nightmare. He could not tolerate his boy wasting his life chasing impossible dreams.
    Robert Sr. spent many idle, anxious hours wondering how to steer his son back toward a