Dear Mr. Roger Waters

Dear Mr. Roger Waters,

I was once told that some concerts you go to, the headlining bands will twist their music in a “new” way. Playing their hit songs with a little change of tempo or wording, so that they feel updated. I was glad to experience that your concerts are not at all this way. The two times I saw you in New Jersey, the songs sounded exactly the same, as if I had closed my eyes and put the record on. They sounded exactly the same beautiful way as they did when I heard them for the very first time. That’s how I want them to stay.

But I am not writing to tell you how big of a fan I am. I am writing to tell you the story of how your music and your voice has become magical to my life. When I was about sixteen years old, I rummaged through the attic in my dad’s old cassette tape collection. I picked up your tape of “Wish you Were Here” and new nothing about the songs, but was enamored by the cover art. The burning man….how interesting. I started listening to it and enjoyed all the songs. And later, told my mom how much I liked Pink Floyd and she told me, that was my dad’s favorite band. It filled my heart to know that even though my dad was in heaven, we were so far away, he had died when I was five –yet we both loved the same music.

As I grew up and years went by, life seemed to get more stressful with crappy boyfriends, crappy jobs, and all that silly crap you make a big fuss over when growing up. But you know what? Something magical kept happening.

The first time it happened, I had left the house of a real jerk I had been dating – he was nice when we were alone but when his friends would come over he’d become mean, disrespectful, and made fun of me. I got fed up that night, so I walked out, got in my car and started driving home. As I drove, I said out loud, “Dad, can you please help me? I don’t want to like this guy anymore. It’s so hard not to, but can you please help me to not like him anymore?”. Then, a Pink Floyd song came on the radio. I never saw or felt that I needed to talk to that boy ever again.

One job I hated so much because the environment was so toxic. I used to dread going to work and sometimes I would say out loud to my dad to help me. Then, like clockwork – a Pink Floyd song came on the radio.

Before my dad died, he once told me that if I missed him, to just look at the moon and he’d be looking at it too. Then it wouldn’t seem like we were so far away. Back then, in my late teens and early twenties – whenever I was driving in my car and missed him or needed him or felt sad – I looked up at the moon, to the empty passenger seat next to me – and then, always again, a Pink Floyd song would come on the radio.

Every time those songs came on I felt a rush of relief, a calmness, a faint touch in my heart reminding me that I would be ok. That my dad was with me.

Sure, you could say it’s just coincidence. After all, I was always listening to the same classic rock radio station. But, when it became over fifty times, then over a hundred times, then almost every time I needed him – those Pink Floyd songs came on and still do to this day. It can’t be a coincidence. It may sound ridiculous – but when you have experienced and felt the way I have – there’s no one who could ever make me believe it’s not real. I don’t know how and I don’t need to know how, but I do know that my father speaks to me through your music. I am so grateful to have found such a special connection with him. A way we can connect to each other.

Your two concerts I attended were very packed, but the seat next me (both times) was empty. He was at those concerts with me. I know he wouldn’t want to miss them for the world.

Thank you.

With love and gratitude,

Daughter of Louis J. Pepe, December 27, 1965 – March 15, 1991


I mailed this letter today to the only mailing address I could find for Roger Waters management in the UK. I don’t want anything in return, all I want is for him to read my letter. I also enclosed a picture of me and my dad and mom together from Easter Sunday, April 1987.

And thanks to you, whoever is reading now. As long as there is magic in the world, we all have hope.


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