Gary Puckett & The Union Gap’s “Honey (I Miss You)”: A Heartbreak That Still Stings
Let’s step softly into the tender twilight of 1968, when the world was awash in melody and longing, and Gary Puckett & The Union Gap’s “Honey (I Miss You)” climbed to No. 5 on the Billboard Hot 100 in June. A standout from their album Woman, Woman, released earlier on Columbia Records, it wasn’t their biggest hit— overshadowed by “Young Girl” (No. 2)—but it carved a deep groove in our souls, selling over a million copies for gold status. For those of us who sat by the radio, waiting for its mournful swell, or watched Gary belt it on The Ed Sullivan Show, it’s a faded postcard from a year when love could break you wide open, and every note felt like a sigh from the past.
The story of “Honey (I Miss You)” is a quiet ache turned loud. Written by Bobby Russell—who’d later pen “Little Green Apples”—it landed with Gary Puckett, a 25-year-old crooner from Washington state, and his Union Gap crew: Kerry Chater, Dwight Bement, Paul Wheatbread, and Mutha Withem. Recorded in ’68 at Columbia’s Hollywood studios with producer Jerry Fuller, it was a shift from their usual drama—less thunder, more tears. Released as a single in May with “(Sweet Sweet Baby) Since You’ve Been Gone” on the flip, it leaned on Puckett’s soaring tenor and a string arrangement that wept alongside him. They’d donned Civil War uniforms for the gimmick, but here, the costume faded—Gary’s voice carried the weight, raw and real.
What’s it mean? “Honey (I Miss You)” is a man’s tender unraveling—“See the tree how big it’s grown, but friend it hasn’t been too long,” Puckett sings, his voice cracking with grief, “I miss you, Honey, since you’ve been gone.” It’s loss laid bare—maybe a lover, maybe a wife, gone to death or distance, leaving him to haunt empty rooms and whisper to shadows. For us who’ve crossed decades, it’s the sound of ’68 heartbreak—the creak of a porch swing, the glow of a kitchen light left on, the ache of a phone that won’t ring. It’s the kind of song that played while we stared out rain-streaked windows, missing someone we couldn’t name anymore.
This was Gary Puckett & The Union Gap in their brief, bright flame—five Top 10 hits in two years, a voice that could pierce fog. “Honey (I Miss You)” lingered in covers by Bobby Goldsboro and echoes in Forrest Gump’s score. For us, it’s a slice of that summer—the hum of a Zenith console, the rustle of a summer dress, the taste of iced coffee as we mourned our own quiet losses. “Honey” wasn’t their loudest cry, but it’s the one that stayed—a lullaby for the broken. So, slip that 45 on, let it spin, and feel the sting again—it’s still ours, after all these years.