In the September 1976 issue of Cleveland Magazine, Derek Van Pelt wrote:
Once upon a time, in an era that already seems far, far away, there was a little club called La Cave. You went down to 105th and Euclid and descended a narrow flight of stairs into the basement, which accomodated perhaps 200 tightly-packed people. There, in the late-lamented Sixties, would be Judy Collins or the Paul Butterfield Blues Band or the Blues Project or some other performer of similar skills and stature, playing the music that was barely beginning to shape a whole new culture. This incredible experience generally set you back two or three bucks. La Cave, of course, vanished years ago, along with LSD and marches on Washington and Eldridge Cleaver. But nevertheless, the legend lives on in the hearts of those who were there, like a stack of old underground newspapers that will never again be read, but will never be thrown out.
