Souther, Hillman, Furay Further On Down The Road

It’s a wonderfully bleak day in Asbury Park, N.J. The wind is blowing in off the shore, the sun is mercifully hidden and those negative ions floating in from the salt water are working their magic.

At the Empress Motel, Mr. Hillman and Mr. Souther are already sprawled out in their respective rooms, catching some catch-up winks. Why even Mr. Furay, who completes the SHF moniker. is considerately, no, sheepishly, asking for a room away from everyone else because, since Cleveland last night, he hasn’t had a chance to shower, you see.