On Christmas Eve in 1975, Dan Fogelberg’s mother ran out of whipping cream. He drove through the snow to the Convenient Food Mart in Peoria and turned down the frozen foods aisle. Standing in front of him was the girl he had loved in high school. Dan was born in Peoria in 1951. His father was a high school band director. Dan taught himself guitar and piano, formed a band at fourteen, and left for Colorado and California in his early twenties. Before the albums there had been Woodruff High School and Jill Anderson. They dated, graduated in 1969, and then went to separate colleges. The distance pulled them apart. Jill married and moved to Chicago. Dan built a music career. That night they recognized each other immediately. Every bar in Peoria was closed. They bought a six-pack of Olympia beer, sat in a car in the cold, and talked until there was little left to say but goodbye. She told him about her marriage. He told her about the music and the road. Five years later he released *Same Old Lang Syne*. It reached number nine on the charts and became a December song across America. He changed two small details. He wrote that her eyes were blue; they were green. He wrote that her husband was an architect; he was a physical education teacher. Apart from those changes, the story was true. Jill heard the song on the radio while driving to work and recognized herself. She told no one. Dan confirmed the song was autobiographical but refused to name her. She respected the decision. She had her own life. He had his. She was divorced by the time the song came out. Years later she saw him backstage at a concert. They spoke briefly. She became a teacher in Missouri. He kept writing and never revealed her name. In May 2004 Dan was diagnosed with advanced prostate cancer. He died on December 16, 2007, at 56. Six days later Jill Greulich, formerly Jill Anderson of the class of 1969, spoke to the Peoria Journal Star for the first time and confirmed the story. She corrected the two details he had changed. “I’ll always have a place in my heart for Dan,” she said. “He would be a very special person to me, even without the song.” The street where the store stood is now called Fogelberg Parkway. Every December the song plays across America. Most listeners never knew the woman’s name. Dan made sure it stayed that way.