It was quickly followed by the realization that many of those rockers were also dead, and most had died young.
She brought those synaptic occurrences into focus in the coffee-table book Everybody I Shot Is Dead (Chesher Cat Productions, $60). The 208-page volume celebrates the joyous, often unguarded, moments of some of rock music's biggest stars.
By its theme, the book also chronicles some of the legendary excesses that led such stars as Harry Nilsson, the Beach Boys' Dennis Wilson, T.Rex's Marc Bolan and scores of others to their early exits. Chesher chooses to downplay that element.
''It's truly not about dead people as much as it is about how amazing these musicians were,'' she says. ''The theme is resurrection. I'm bringing them back to life with pictures that have never been seen before and that were taken at a time when they were all extremely vibrant and productive - which is how I like to remember them.''
As much a fan as a photographer when she started, the native Canadian arrived in Los Angeles in the mid-1970s with a 35mm camera and a portfolio of touring rock acts she had photographed as they passed through Vancouver. She was soon working at all the local music haunts, shooting musicians for albums, concert posters and publicity photos.
Although some typical ''rock star as deity'' poses make it into the book, most of the 48 people profiled in its pages are captured in a way that reflects more of a human side: a joyous George Harrison onstage in embroidered jeans and bright yellow shirt; a relaxed Maurice Gibb of the Bee Gees visiting backstage with family and friends.
Michael Bloomfield even takes his turn behind the camera, producing some blurry black-and-white images in an apparently misguided attempt at art photography. Not long after he took those photos, the guitarist died of a drug overdose at age 37. It was a tragedy that still brings Chesher to tears.
Others, such as Little Feat's Lowell George, who was 34 when he suffered a fatal heart attack, died young after years of hard living. Still others, like Bolan, who was 29, perished in car crashes or, in the case of former teen idol Rick Nelson, plane crashes.
But not everyone was a victim of life on the road. Some, like Papa John Creach, the old man of the Jefferson Airplane, lived well into their 70s. And, Chesher acknowledges, not everybody she shot is really dead.
''Maybe I'll do an Everybody I Shot Is Alive book next,'' she jokes.
The fellow survivors she photographed include Van Morrison, Steve Miller, Joni Mitchell, Ron Wood, Tom Waits and all the members of the Eagles, and Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young. That's not to mention seemingly indestructible rock 'n' roll pioneer Chuck Berry, 81.
But there is clearly a greater fascination with chronicling the lives of those who lived fast and died young, says Josh Kun, a University of Southern California English professor and the director of USC's Popular Music Project.
''Books like this are tapping into a collective desire for remembering an era of rock 'n' roll that, whether it's true or not, felt more pure, felt more authentic, more aggressive in its stance against the status quo,'' Kun said.
As such, he said, books like Everybody I Shot Is Dead have an appeal not just to aging baby boomers but also to young music fans who will download everything they can find on the Web on legendary supergroups like Led Zeppelin.
''You can't talk about Britney Spears, or even a band in the indie world like Arcade Fire, with the same kind of iconicity,'' Kun said.
