The picture is still clear in my head, etched into my memory. It was in the beginning of April, 1994. I was still living with my parents and six years younger sister then, and we’d been away for a week skiing. That day we were on our way home by car, it was dark and we stopped at a gas station to refuel and maybe buy some candy. As we were driving into the lights we saw the front pages of the tabloids posted outside the station. There were three different tabloids in Sweden at that time, but they all spelled out the same words in big black letters. KURT COBAIN IS DEAD. My little sister and I saw them, we simultaneously drew audible breaths and exclaimed “WHAT???” in shocked disbelief. She was 13 and I was 19 and this was a big deal to us.
Why? A young person…
Grunge Graveyard 