A Hollywood Bowl Romance: Reggae, Romance, and 17,500 Witnesses

The first time I fell in love with the Hollywood Bowl was in 1988. I didn’t know then that I’d fall in love again under those same stars decades later, in a moment that would make 17,500 people cheer.

For over thirty years, I’ve been the unofficial ringleader of what we fondly call our “Bowl Reggae Family.” Every summer, I’d gather dozens of friends and relatives—sometimes up to 45 people—for Reggae Night. We’d spread our blankets across the benches, share plates of food and drinks, and let the rhythm of reggae music wash over us as the sun set over Los Angeles. People flew in from across the country just to be part of our tradition. It wasn’t just about the music; it was about belonging.

Then came 2012, and a man who would change everything. We’d only been dating for three months when he started asking my children questions about what mattered most to me. They told him about our beloved Bowl nights—about how this concrete amphitheater had become our family’s summer sanctuary. Most men might have dismissed it as just another venue, but not him.

What I didn’t know was that before Reggae Night, he had already set his plan in motion. He reached out to both Ziggy Marley and the host, Jeremy Sole, by snail mail and email, hoping to make the evening unforgettable. When the host responded, he had just one question that still makes me laugh today: “Are you sure she’ll say yes?” With the confidence of a man who’d known me for only three months—but somehow knew me completely—he replied without hesitation, “Yes, she will say yes.” Looking back, I love his certainty almost as much as I love him.

That evening, as the music pulsed through the warm air, Ziggy and Jeremy took to the microphone to share our special moment with 17,500 people. The amphitheater erupted in cheers, and throughout the night, strangers stopped by our section to congratulate us, the joy spreading like ripples through the crowd. The music, the stars, and the overwhelming love from both friends and strangers created a perfect Los Angeles moment that could only happen at the Bowl—or in the movies.

Ten years later, never missing a year, we returned to celebrate our anniversary, wearing matching custom T-shirts with our proposal photo splashed across them—mine proudly declaring “I Said Yes,” his beaming with “She Said Yes.” The Bowl, ever magical, welcomed us like old friends. The host, Rocio Contreras (Wyldeflower), announced our 10th anniversary, and the staff surprised us with special recognition and gifts that made us feel like we were part of the venue’s own family.

This August 17th will mark my final Reggae Night before retirement, with headliners Damian and Stephen Marley. Forty-five of our closest friends and family members are flying in from six different states to be there, many of whom witnessed both our proposal and our tenth-anniversary celebration. But life, like music, comes with its bitter notes mixed among the sweet—my husband, the man who gave me my fairy‑tale Bowl moment, won’t be able to attend due to health issues.

The Bowl’s significance in my life runs deeper than just memories—it’s planted into my future legacy. In my final wishes, I’ve asked that when the time comes, my loved ones gather one last time at Reggae Night. Not for mourning, but for celebration. Because that’s what the Bowl has always been about, especially for me: bringing people together, creating joy, and transforming music into memories. I can think of no better place for my family and friends to gather—to remember, dance, and feel the warm embrace of healing and lasting love from a community that has defined our summers for over three decades.

Some might call it just an amphitheater, but to me, the Hollywood Bowl is proof that magic exists. It’s where my love story found its rhythm, where strangers became family, and where the music will play on long after we’re gone. From first dates to proposals, from anniversaries to final farewells, these concrete steps and wooden benches hold the stories of countless lives—including mine—woven together under the stars of Los Angeles.

Ken and Val at 10-Year Proposal Anniversary

From the Editor

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