Lo, in the year of our Lord 1971, a band of minstrels was forged beneath the western sun of Los Angeles. Called forth first by the songstress Linda Ronstadt, Don Henley the drummer and Glenn Frey the bard took up instruments not for her alone, but for themselves, weaving a fellowship soon to be named The Eagles. To their company were joined Bernie Leadon and Randy Meisner, and in the year 1974, the guitarist Don Felder, a craftsman of strings from the land of Florida.
And thus began both glory and grief.
The Rise of the Song of the Hotel
In the year 1976, the brethren unveiled unto the world the album Hotel California, and the people rejoiced. This work, born of Felder’s melodies and clothed with the words of Henley and Frey, soared across kingdoms, its title song becoming a hymn known far and wide. Felder’s hand wrought the immortal guitar solo, and with it, everlasting fame.
Yet within the circle, shadows gathered. For when Felder sought to lend his voice to the ballad Victim of Love, Henley and Frey, called mockingly by Felder “The Gods,” erased his offering whilst he supped with the steward Irving Azoff. From that day forth, bitterness festered like an unhealed wound.
The Clash of 1980
In the year of 1980, while the band played at a gathering for lords of politics, words turned sharper than any string. Onstage, Frey and Felder traded threats of violence before the eyes of the crowd, promising battle once the music ceased. And when the final notes were struck, so too ended the fellowship—for the Eagles would not again gather in harmony for fourteen long years.
The Sundering of 2001
Though the Eagles rose once more in the year 1994, their peace was but fragile. On the sixth day of February, 2001, Don Felder was cast from the company. But he, unwilling to go silently, drew forth the sword of the law. He charged his former brothers Henley and Frey with wrongful dismissal and betrayal of covenant, seeking fifty million pieces of silver in recompense.
Felder spake that Henley and Frey, desiring a greater share of the treasury, had compelled him to accept terms most grievous, granting themselves thrice the portion of the others for the album Selected Works: 1972–1999. In turn, Henley and Frey smote back with their own suit, decrying Felder’s breach of oath and the penning of his tell-all tome, Heaven and Hell: My Life in the Eagles.
The courts were summoned, and judgment was set for the year 2006. Yet ere the gavel fell, the quarrel was hushed, for an accord was struck in secret in 2007, and the matter laid to rest.
Epilogue
Thus did the Eagles sing of peace while warring within, filling the world with harmony even as discord gnawed at their brotherhood. Their tale is no mere chronicle of music, but of men—of pride and power, of triumph and betrayal, of golden songs that echoed through stadiums, while behind the curtain, the true drama unfolded like a courtroom tragedy set to melody.
So ends the saga of Henley, Frey, and Felder—their strife eternal, their songs immortal.
