Most music fans are totally normal. They stream the albums, buy a shirt, maybe argue online that their favorite record is “underrated” like it’s a full-time job. Fine. Harmless. But every once in a while, you get a fan base that doesn’t just support an artist—they build a whole lifestyle around them, treat criticism like a personal attack, and show up with an energy that makes everyone else quietly inch toward the nearest exit.

Fleetwood Mac didn’t start as a pop band. It started with Peter Green—a blues guitarist who terrified Eric Clapton. He built the band, led it, and shaped everything it was meant to be. Then he disappeared. What followed wasn’t reinvention—it was a quiet collapse into schizophrenia that erased one of rock’s most gifted minds.

Mary Esther Wells was born in Detroit in 1943, and her childhood was anything but easy. She battled spinal meningitis as a toddler, survived tuberculosis as a teen, and endured long hospital stays that nearly silenced her before she ever sang a note. Music wasn’t just an interest—it was an escape hatch, a way out of pain and into possibility.