Beaten Purple in the Purple People Seater

Beaten Purple in the Purple People Seater

By Barry Bozeman

The phone rang loudly at 11pm on a Friday night in my suite in the Eden Roc on Miami Beach. The road manager for the Oak Ridge Boys was on the other end of the line. "Our sound system blew up at the Daytona Speedway this afternoon and I've been trying to reach you all day" he screamed. "We have a gig in Lake City, Florida tomorrow night and I'm going to cancel if I can't get your system there by noon tomorrow."

Mountain Sound had been speaking with the Oaks since the Knoxville Fair that fall about taking over their sound production but they had remained loyal to their original sound provider up to that point. This was in the Fall of 1980 or 81. It seems that some genius at Daytona had plugged in the Sudecom Sound? (not sure of that name) amp racks to 220 and the result was 40 fried Crown DC amplifiers and some melted coils.

I felt badly for the Sudecom guy but a gig is a gig and we wanted the Oak Ridge Boys tour to grow our company.

"Man our system is in Knoxville and it's a minimum 20 hours before we can get it down to Lake City and we can't even rent and load a truck until Monday morning" I said "When is the next gig after that?"

"We don't play again till Wednesday in Sarasota with the Gatlin Brothers" he replied, "Are you sure you can't help us out in Lake City?"

"Hang on. I've got one idea and I will call you back in an hour and let you know what I can do." I replied. "We can definitely be in Sarasota on Wednesday and we can handle the rest of your 13 date tour from there." 

I remembered meeting a sound company owner in Fort Lauderdale the previous year. I tried to find the number for JM Sound and got the wife who told me they would be arriving back at the shop around 1am from that night's gig. We climbed into my rental car and drove north just in time to catch them pulling into the warehouse with the loaded truck.

"Don't unload that truck" I called and after a brief negotiation we turned the truck and rental car toward Lake City after I reached the Oaks manager and told him he didn't have to cancel anything.

The gig in Lake City went well and the Oak's manager was pleased. Our guys in Knoxville were getting prepped to leave for Sarasota on Tuesday so we would be set for the gig at the:

THE PURPLE PEOPLE SEATER

3 nights later we had a Mountain Sound system set up for the Oak Ridge Boys at the Van Wezel Performing Arts Auditorium in Sarasota. The Van Wezel's website claims: 

"The Van Wezel strives to ensure that all people, regardless of ability, can enjoy our ... with a hearing loss of up to 75% to hear a program from any seat in the auditorium."  and that is absolutely true.

The Oak Ridge Boys were booked into the Van Wezel as part of a season long series of shows featuring people like Guy Lombardo and Joan Rivers with a few musical's thrown in. I guess they thought the Oaks were a vocal quartet singing at barbershop volume, but they had morphed into a country rock band with some fairly serious amplification. OK so the Oak Ridge Boys were not what we would call Southern Rock but they were not some unamplified vocal group.   

Like the QE2 story earlier this crowd was almost all retirees and octogenarians, who entered the auditorium slowly on scooters or with walkers and canes.

By the middle of the first softer set the only thing coming through the sound system was the vocals and it was still quite loud for the acoustically perfect auditorium. The crowd was getting restless and we heard cries of "Too Loud" or "Turn it down".

I was back at the mixing console with the Oaks soundman when we were approached by an elderly red faced patron waving a rather stout cane with a metal head. "Turn the damn sound down" he yelled and commenced to wailing away at my head with his cane. I took a nice blow on the left shoulder that left and ugly bruise before I told him "Hey we are the lighting guys and we just control the lights!!!". 

What was I going to do? Punch out a great-grandfather in a house full of great-grandfathers?

The crowd thinned pretty rapidly and it was a less that comfortable beginning for our first tour with the Oak Ridge Boys. Luckily we did not encounter another booking like that on the tour. 

By the way I never saw anything like the line of women outside the hotel rooms of the Oak Ridge Boys bass singer. I swear they were taking numbers and lining up.

Barry Bozeman - part owner and President of Mountain Sound - on the Oak Ridge Boys in Florida in 1980 -81 

Barry Bozeman

WELCOME TO STORIES OF THE ROAD GIANTS

This weblog will be the companion to the Stories of the Road Giants Facebook Group and The New Stories of the Road Giants Facebook Page - as a place to post and store the Stories from those pages so they are always available

PUFFED RICE

Marc B Frank 5/08/2011

I was working for the Ojay's, and we were playing the Superdome. The Commadores, Ojays, L.T.D. and Confunksion. Confunksion was the opening act and their last tune was Fun, or whatever the name of it was, but it ended with them, singing and holding " Well have FUN, FUN, FUN. On the last fun they had pyro. Well they had run out of confetti, so they put in rice instead. ( Bad Choice ) This is back when the pyro use flashpods. ( as in when its triggered its red hot) OK, now you have red hot rice coming out of the flashpods, mixed with the ever popular "Jeri Curl" at that era. 1980-81. The short of a long story is, you have a few hundred


Brothers, in the crowd with red hot rice burning little bitty holes in their hair.

( That Happened )

A Very Hot Show

A Very Hot Show

From: Roadie A True Story (at least the parts I remember) Karl Kuenning RFL May 26, 2011

One of the great all time southern rock bands is “The Outlaws”. I did about ten gigs with them during my roadie years. I worked lights on some shows, and mixed monitors on others. Their biggest hit was “There goes another love song”, but that song only accounted for 1/100th of their powerful stage show. Some of shows are vivid in my memory like St John’s University and Cape Cod Coliseum; most of them were so equally and consistently powerful that they all blur together. One show that was unique, and is “burned” into my grey matter (literally) was the “Summer Jam” at the University of Louisville.

The day started out great, a little bit overcast, a little on the warm side. The show was to be outdoors in the huge Cardinal football stadium. A stage was assembled and we unloaded the PA and lights and watched the sky. One fear of all roadies doing an outdoor job was the weather. Rain could damage the equipment and lightning (if it hit) could be deadly. We were ahead of schedule and had everything ready for the sound check. The Outlaws and the opening act had not arrived yet, and the sky grew blacker. By the time the road manager got there it had become a serious discussion about whether to postpone, cancel or move the show. The weather was degrading, so a command decision was made jointly by the road manager, the student activities manager and several roadies (myself included) to move the show.

So the PA came down, the lights came down, and everything got reloaded in the trucks. The stage had to be struck and a large contingent of student helpers started to move it the short distance to Freedom Hall U of L basketball arena. Then we waited until the stage was re-assembled. The wait was made easier when the sky opened up and rain came down in a solid sheet. The correct decision had been made, and now we were fighting two forces that were completely out of our control, “time” and “heat”.
You probably guessed the “time” part but what you have to understand is that for some reason the air conditioning wasn’t working. By the time the show was set up it was approaching 90 degrees. The school was trying in vain to use large fans to cool off the impromptu greenhouse. We were already over an hour late for showtime when we did a token sound check. The opening acts (“Molly Hatchet” and “The Winter Brothers Band” if I remember correctly) got no sound check at all. They opened the house and the wet fans poured in. For those of you with a background in science can you tell everyone what happens when a hot arena has about 10,000 human bodies hovering around 98.6 degrees added? That’s right it gets even hotter. By showtime it was reported (although I never personally saw a thermometer) that the hall had soared to around 105 degrees. There was actually talk again about canceling the show, but this time everyone agreed to “Go”.

When the Outlaws hit the stage after the break, fans were actually passing out from heat exhaustion, but only a few. The “Florida Guitar Army” started with “Stick around for rock and roll”, and went through all their favorites including “Lover Boy”, and Breaker Breaker”. They had recently released “Hurry Sundown” and played most of the songs off that new album. To the best of my recollection, this was the first show I worked with the band that Harvey Dalton Arnold had replaced Frank O’Keefe on bass. The Outlaws put on the best show I’d ever seen them do (and I had seen them seven or eight times at that point), the heat gave the entire show an urgency and raw edge that I can’t attempt to describe. Nobody wanted the show to end, not the heat soaked students, not Jim, George or the rest of the “Cow Chips” (the nickname for the band’s roadies), not myself or the other sound and light guys, and definitely not the band.

They played and played and played under those lights and kept playing until they ran out of songs to play. Remember that as hot as the audience was the band was even hotter. They had thousands of watts of stage lamps aimed at them. Think of it this way, you’re laying in a lounge chair out by the pool on a hot summer day and someone has come along and turned on a large sunlamp just above your body. When they came back for the encore they played their flagship song off the first album “Green Grass and High Tides Forever.” For those of you that are Outlaws fans, and especially those of you that were fortunate enough to see them “live” you’ll know what I mean when I say that you have to remind yourself to breathe as Hughie starts the song…

In a place you only dream of, where your soul is always free.
Silver stages, golden curtains, filled my head plain as could be.
As a rainbow grew around the sun, all the stars I've loved, who died.
Came from somewhere beyond the scene you see.
These lovely people played just for me…

Green grass and high tides forever
Castles of stone souls and glory
Lost faces say we adore you
As kings and queens bow and play for you

What is lost on the attempts to capture this song in the studio is the improvisation that took place during the instrumental break between lyrics in the live stage version. The blazing guitars of Hughie, Billy and Henry would add new riffs and wander off into uncharted land. Monte’s drum solos always seemed to occupy just a little more time each time I did a show, and the audience would always go insane. Not just a little insane, stark raving nuts! Twenty years later, it’s ironic that one of those lines in Green Grass states…

“All the stars I’ve loved, who died…played just for me.”

In 1995 Billy Jones took his own life. A few weeks later Frank O’Keefe died of an accidental overdose. There will never be a true “Outlaws” reunion (at least not in this space-time continuum). The good news is that, as of this writing, the remaining band members are all still playing music. Henry Paul has a successful country band named “The Blackhawks”; Monte Yoho is playing drums in Branson Missouri on the “Branson Belle” riverboat with “The Nelson Family”. And Hughie Thomasson, the singer of the haunting lyrics above, has joined “Lynyrd Skynyrd.” (More on Skynyrd later in the book).

To Frank and Billy I hope you both have found peace, the rest of you guys, STAY LOUD!

Update: Of Course since I wrote my book ten years ago we have lost Hughie.
Like · Follow Post · Report · September 2, 2011 at 11:43pm
2 people like this.

Jeanette G Baker wow. I remember the Cape Cod Colisium when I was younger . Now here I am back on Cape Cod and hopefully more west coast bands will play at the Melody Tent in Hyannis .


Jeanette "Jaye" Baker
Silpada Designs Independent Rep
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May 26, 2011 at 10:00am via mobile · Like

Gig from Hell - Troy, NC

By Edward C Adkins in Stories From The Road Giants
This story should be filed in the, “GIGS FROM HELL”, folder. About 93% true

We, Grinderswitch (GS), were to play a show in Troy, NC. On the bill were maybe 13 or 15 acts. Headlining were Charlie Daniels and Marshall Tucker. Also on the bill, about 9 acts down, was a new group from Seattle called “Heart”. This was sometime in 1976.

The site for the gig was located outside of Troy a few miles. Previously there had been a growth of pine trees at this location which had recently been cut and the land had been cleared in the shape of a rectangle that covered about 30 acres. Stumps had been removed and the ground had been leveled. A small stand of pines had been left up next to the highway to act as a wind break and to obstruct the view from the highway for safety sake, I think. A new stage had been built at the far end of the new field next to the remaining pine forest with room behind the stage to park trucks and buses. It was an open stage with no canopy. Electricity had been run in and porta-pottys had been placed at various places around the site. The only access road in or out was directly adjacent to the field where the audience would be gathered.

The sun was shining and cumulus clouds were spread out across the sky and the temperature was warm. It looked like a great day for a concert when we pulled the truck behind the stage. The show started early in the day and was progressing along nicely. CDB had their amp line on stage. Maybe MTB had their rigs in place also I don’t remember but everyone else had to drag their gear out on the stage and set up as the show went along. GS played and cleared the stage. The next act might have been Wet Willy
. They played and cleared the stage and MTB was next. I believe that MTB started to do their set when the clouds that had been gathering through the day burst open a shower of cool rain covered the stage and all at the show. The band played for awhile and might have played if the rain had been lighter but the water was forming puddles on the stage and the musicians were getting shocked when they touched the mic stands. someone's guitar touched the mic stand and an electric arc zapped through one of the strings. They had to stop playing at that point explained to the audience that they were getting shocked and it was to dangerous to continue but, he said, when the rain stops and we get the stage dried-up a bit the band would continue. The band hustled off the stage.

The rain kept falling for about another hour. The crews in the mean time had covered the equipment with plastic sheeting. The audience was huddled together and waited for the rain to stop. When it finally stopped the crew sped about unwrapping the equipment and removing the water puddles. MTB was about to resume the show and was on their way to the stage when it started to drizzle again so they turned around and went back to the bus; another delay.

The crowd started to get angry, first at the rain gods; Boos and hisses and yelling. Then as the crowd amped up their anger turned into rage and was directed towards the band; then all the bands; then at everyone in the crews. The once calm and happy audience had transformed into a seething mob. Beer bottles started exploding on the stage and in the trusses showering glass shrapnel across the stage and surrounding area. The crew on stage dove behind the amp line for cover. The speakers were all uncovered because the band was about to play when it started raining again. Bottles were smashing into the PA stacks and into the guitar speakers. Moon and the crew made a valiant effort to rotate the speaker cabinets around 180 degrees in an attempt to save the speakers, dodging the barrage of amber missiles, many of them flying over the stage and crashing into the cars and trucks parked behind. It soon became evident that too many speakers had been destroyed and it was now impossible to repair them that day. The show was over.

Tory Torstenson, my partner with GS and who I have previously described as a real living hero, walked out on stage and grabbed a mic. The sound guy (Mule Breath?) must have seen him and opened the mic because it was working. Tory yelled at the crowd, “Now knock this shit off” and then he repeated it and mob quieted down and the bottles stopped. He said, “If one more bottle comes up here I’m coming down there and start kicking some ass”. About ten rows back a guy nudged his buddy and said, “Bull Shit”, picked up a bottle and hurled it at the stage. Maybe he thought he was invisible in the crowd, who knows, but Tory saw him and leaped down from the stage and charged into the crowd pushing people out of his way. The crowd opened in front of him leaving a path directly to the wise guy. Tory charged straight at him and with one punch laid the guy out flat in the dirt. The crowd went silent in shock. What was happening? There were several thousand people there but I can’t tell you how many. All mouths were silent and all eyes were on Tory. He could have been King Kong or Godzilla at that moment. Then he said something like, “who’s next”. There were no volunteers.

I was standing next to Charlie’s bus talking to David Corlew. The picture in my mind of David at that moment is this: he was wearing a gray wide brimmed cowboy hat with a round dome that had a single crease in the middle of it. It reminded me of the hat worn by Hopalong Cassidy. He had on a duster coat that extended almost to his ankles and was, I think, made of denim. His mustache was hanging over his lip and reminded me of Yosemite Sam. He had a baseball bat or some type of club in his hand and he was smacking it into the palm of his other hand. He had a long barreled revolver tucked in his pants at the waist. I had been talking to Sid Yochim at the truck. Sid said he had heard on his CB that the mob was ready to rush the stage and burn it down. That's what I was relaying to David. He was ready to defend the bus and all aboard, all by himself. David had been a Golden Gloves champion in Nashville years before and the warrior in him was alive.

Tory came by and we headed to the truck. Inside he started the truck and we rolled back up the dirt road that was now packed with people walking out of the concert site. I recall only one person yelling at us that he wanted his money back still blaming the bands for the cancellation of the show. We were just creeping along because the dirt road was jammed with people exiting to their cars. Tory told the guy that we had played, we did our job, what did he expect us to do?

When we finally reached the highway we saw the first cop we had seen all day directing traffic so the folks could walk across the road to the parking lot. We told him that the crowd was rioting and were going to burn-down the stage. He just shook his head. He wasn’t going in there and I don’t blame him.

We traveled a short distance, maybe a quarter or half mile toward Troy and were flagged over by another cop who was parked along the side of the highway. He said he wanted to search the truck. He had no probable cause, no warrant, his job was to stop the bands as they exited and search them for drugs. He did and found nothing. We told him about the rioting and that the mob was burning-down the stage, just to distract him. He just sneered and he his smirk told me he was thinking, “serves you right you filthy hippies”.

I, to this day, do not know what kind of damage or how much was inflected to the CDB and MTB buses, trucks and equipment. The Marshall Tucker Band suffered heavy losses to their equipment and Blackie, the lighting director, was struck by a flying bottle. There may have been other injuries.
. I’d like to hear someone's recollections of that “Gig from Hell”.

Written by Edward C Adkins February 8, 2011
“Cap” from Grinderswitch.

P.S. The picture at the top left of the Stories page is Tory (in front) and me (behind Tory) taken about the time of this story sometime in 1975 or 1976.





Unlike · Unfollow Post · Report · February 11, 2011 at 9:04pm
You and Michael Swaggerty like this.
Barry Bozeman Whew - nothin like a mob of drunk nasty wet mad concert goers Cap.
Well told and well worth the read. Thanks
February 8, 2011 at 12:19pm · Like · 1
Barry Bozeman Which company provided the sound for this gig from hell?
February 8, 2011 at 6:34pm · Like

Arthur Moon Mullins Probably one was of the worst shows I ever worked. MTB was on stage when the show was rained out. Lots of fighting, Blackie clobered with a beer bottle, all our equipment destroyed, hell of a ride out through the crowd. First time I saw the "Roy" side of Toy. We did a show shortly after with rental equipment. Puff what so you remember about this show?
February 8, 2011 at 9:32pm · Like

Arthur Moon Mullins Can't remember the promoter Wilson ? from Charlotte maybe, Beach Club Promotions? Corlew had that single action revolver out waving it around. He was wearing that duster, looking right out of Deadwood. Tough night for everyone.
February 8, 2011 at 9:45pm · Like

Keith Glenn Dang, I guess this blows Dibby's horror story about not gettin' enough Buffet Coupons for the band at the Indian Casino clean outta the water!...
February 8, 2011 at 10:33pm · Like

Edward C Adkins Moon, Did you see the part where Tory ran out into the audience? If so what
was your take on it?
February 8, 2011 at 10:56pm via mobile · Like

Arthur Moon Mullins Seems to me we had taken enough shit and waded into the crowd to get them to back off. There were several guys trapped at the mixing console. I remember smashing anyone I came upon. It started with us returning bottles and rocks that were on the stage. Biggest fight I was ever involved in. It went back and forth several times until we drove the crowd far enough back so we could load out.
February 9, 2011 at 8:45am · Like

Edward C Adkins Moon, Was Blackie trapped at the mixing board and is that where he was hit with a bottle ?
February 9, 2011 at 9:22am · Like

Edward C Adkins Did they trash the mixing boards?
February 9, 2011 at 9:23am · Like

Steve Shropshier I remeber getting off the bus and Wilson Howard was standing there---all I could say was "Wilson, this ain't gonna work !" boy was I right on that one
February 9, 2011 at 9:44am · Like · 2

Edward C Adkins I rushed to get this story posted and my memory's hindsight was not 20/20. Marshall Tucker Band was on stage when the rain started.
February 9, 2011 at 2:47pm · Like

Arthur Moon Mullins Thanks Puff. Wilson Howard it was . I think Blackie was on stage. Maybe Kevin Mc.at the console. They never really did anything to the mixer platform but the guys were freaked out. We beat the crowd back in waves until we got there. First and maybe only time I saw the Marine come out in Toy. It felt like a war zone and everyone reacted that way.
February 9, 2011 at 10:20pm · Like

Arthur Moon Mullins I remember Sid's "Elrod"? Peterbilt got stuck behind the stage. Johnny Lawson was helping get that rig out while we were defending our shit.
February 9, 2011 at 10:23pm · Like

Arthur Moon Mullins My wife Nesie was there as a spectator. Maybe I'll get her take.
February 9, 2011 at 10:24pm · Like

Edward C Adkins Toy Ran out there too? Who else? I didn't see or hear about that part. Maybe you could write it up, start at the beginning. I'll scrap mine.
February 10, 2011 at 12:03am · Like

Edward C Adkins Oh Moon, I see what happened here. Your story picks up after Tory and I depart and are down the road being harassed by the cops. That's why I didn't see it. Perfect, Great. You can just pick it up and run. ( Meanwhile back at the ranch)
February 10, 2011 at 2:36am · Like

Edward C Adkins Did Tommy go out into the crowd too?
February 10, 2011 at 2:42am · Like

Arthur Moon Mullins For sure we all have different memories of thesel stories. Every year at the crew party I'm reminded of other guys details. All this was a long time ago.
February 10, 2011 at 8:43am · Like

Arthur Moon Mullins Don't scrap anything. I think think the show restarted more than once. The crowd had been there for a day or 2. Most everyone went into the audience at some time, not Tommy, but Toy. It was in waves and then finally we just waded in and kicked ass. That's when I met "Roy".
February 11, 2011 at 8:27pm · Like

Edward C Adkins ROY?
February 11, 2011 at 8:28pm · Like

Arthur Moon Mullins I want to use one of Toy's greatest liberties and favorite line "Never let the truth get in the way of a good story" as a warning here.
February 11, 2011 at 8:31pm · Like

Edward C Adkins I just completed a rewrite and raised the truth level to 93%.
February 11, 2011 at 9:07pm · Like

Play That Funky Music ---- Or Else!!!

Play That Funky Music ---- Or Else!!!
By Barry Bozeman in Stories From The Road Giants ·
The following story involves a situation that occurred on a rare off week for Mountain Sound. We were all in Knoxville this October weekend instead of on the road where we pretty much lived with The Marshall Tucker Band and The Charlie Daniels Band or Oak Ridge Boys from 1975 thru 1982. I will call this story:

Play that Funky Music or Else

I guess it was mid-October in 1980 – there was a bit of a chill in the air after 5pm on a Friday night in Knoxville. Don Fillers, Jackie and Ricky Williams, Bobby Tuccillo, John Williams (the guy who drove the CDB truck), and a couple of other Mountain Sound guys were winding down the week at Mountain Sound with a couple of beers. We hear the slam of a car door and a big guy in a leather jacket steps out of an older Lincoln Continental in the lot and approaches the door.

“This Mountain Sound?” he asks and gets an affirmative reply. “I don’t know if you guys can help me but I’ve got this here thing called a rider and I’m told I need to get some things for a big show we’re doin up in Rogersville.”
The gist of that rider and his requirements include the need for a sound mix platform and a couple of spotlight towers, spotlights, and some trusses with par cans and controls and other production items.

“I got a bunch of floodlights on poles” he said “But the guy says I got to have big theater spotlights on towers or the Wild Cherry won’t do the show and won’t refund the money”
“When is this show?” we ask. “Tomorrow” he replies. “Hmmm, that’s pretty short notice” I say.

The guy goes on to tell us that if he doesn’t get these things he’s afraid that the show will be cancelled and that cannot happen. And we tell him that he’s probably come to the only place on earth where this problem can be solved overnight but it is going to cost a premium at this late hour.

“We will need $5,000 cash right now and another $2,500 when we arrive at the site in the AM prior to unloading the truck.” I said. ”We’ve got the Charlie Daniels sound and light semi outside and I’ve called the TERI office and talked with Rick Ross about picking up the necessary gear at their warehouse across town.” “We can take care of this for you but we will be up all night and we have to change the plans of our crew and get some people to open some doors for us.” I tell the Continental Guy.

We were a little reticent to get involved with this strange deal at this late date. We had received a call from the regular J. Geils Band sound guy, Harold Blumberg, who was doing a Wild Cherry tour a few weeks before telling us that we might be asked to provide some production support for a show in East Tennessee, but we had heard nothing since that call. Later on I would seriously regret taking that 5 grand and the job.

The price didn’t phase our big guy with the Continental. He pulls out a roll of cash that was as thick as his large fist and counted out 50 Ben Franklins right then and there. We fired up the semi and headed over to TERI at around 10pm.

It was near dawn by the time we were ready to head up I-81 to the Rogerville, TN exit about 70 miles from Knoxville. We had 6 or 7 guys, the semi and my VW van. Later we would be joined by some other friends and girlfriends for the show. There was a Stuckey’s and a Texaco at the exit and from there it was between 15 and 20 miles to the show site according to the directions. About 10 miles from the site we turned onto a dirt road headed up an isolated valley with a ridgeline on our left. The further we drove the stranger it seemed to us that anyone would try to have a show at this remote location.
The Continential Guy had told us that he was expecting thousands of attendees for a big outdoor show featuring Wild Cherry, Grinderswitch, and Stillwater with a couple of local bands to warm up and that the show would start around 6pm that Saturday night. We were curious how anyone was going to find this remote location since we had not passed a single sign pointing the way to the site.

The Strangest Concert Stage

We finally arrived at the farm where the concert was going to be held around 9am. There was a small white farmhouse near the road and a rather appropriate cleared field sloped upward toward the top of the ridge. Not a bad place for a show we thought until we saw the stage. Think a smaller version of Yasgur’s famous Woodstock field with the stage at the top of the hill. Yes that’s right – these geniuses had built a fairly substantial stage at the top of the incline. The stage was enclosed with old barn wood and had a roof about 12 feet off the deck making it almost impossible to raise a truss.
It was close to the ground at stage right and there was about a 10 foot drop to the slope at stage left. This will be significant later in the story.

We pulled the semi into the field along with my VW van loaded with the crew but there was no sign of the Continental and our guy with the cash. We talked with his brother and told him that our deal was to be paid prior to unloading the truck. Don showed the guy where we would put the mix platform and the spotlight towers and told him that those spaces needed to leveled out and he went to work with a Bobcat.
We looked around the site. There was no security fence and anyone who wished had a 1000 ways to get on the site without paying, There were no sanitary facilities. But we had 5 grand and our stuff was in the truck so we napped in the vehicles trying to make up for the lost sleep. Around noon some local cops showed up but still no Continental guy. We talked with the cops and pointed out the lack of security and sanitary facilities and suggested that they should try to stop this thing but they didn’t want to hear about it. We were already aprehensive about the situation and would have been more than happy to head home without the remaining payout.

Around 2pm the Continental pulled into the field and despite the late hour and the obvious lack of people arriving for the show to my considerable dismay he gave us the last $2,500 without hesitation so we began to start setting up the towers, lights and mix position. The sound truck and roadies for Wild Cherry, Grinderswitch, and Stillwater showed up around noon so things were progressing but it was going to be tough to make a 6pm show start. We had yet to see a single concert goer. By 5pm it started to get cold enough to see your breath in the crisp late October air. Don Fillers went to the Continental guy who was obviously in charge and told him that they should probably cancel the opening local acts and go straight to Stillwater, Grinderswitch and the headlining Wild Cherry since it was getting so cold and there was every indication of a late start without a large audience. That turned out to be a big mistake.

Our First Drive-In Concert.

Along about 5:30pm shortly prior to the scheduled show start about a half dozen cars pulled into the field and lined up about 100 feet from the stage. Some bonfires were being built and we were nearing completion of the set up. In the end there were probably less than 200 people there for the show including the bands and their crews, and quite a few of those were obviously family and friends of the guys who had funded this disaster. When the show started the folks in the cars remained in them with the motors running to keep the heat on.

The farm house at the bottom of the hill was being used as the green room for the bands and Wild Cherry had arrived in their bus that was parked near the house. The Continental guy’s parents owned the house where they lived and his mother had an uncanny resemblance to Granny Clampett in my memory. She was small and wiry.

Despite a late start around dark the local band took the stage and played for 45 minutes followed by Stillwater. Off to the side the Continental guy and about 10 of his ‘partners’ we guessed were standing around a bonfire passing around several bottles of Jack Daniels and Mason jars with moonshine. They were occasionally looking in our direction with increasing hostility. The mood was definitely uncomfortable. It was clear these guys had blown a bundle of cash throwing this party with only a couple of hundred paying customers. This was not their dreamed of Woodstock south and the turnout was dismal. This was obviously a financial disaster for the promoters.

Hawkins County is and was rural, remote, and economically depressed. We had crossed the county line from Grainger County on the dirt road a few miles from the site. It was even more remote back in the late 70’s and early 80’s. It’s not the kind of place for outsiders to be on the bad side of a bunch of locals. The road crews for the bands and the sound guys were feeling a bit threatened as well. Here was a group of drunken disgruntled guys who had lost their shirts and the people who had their money were right there on their property at night far from any assistance. I got the Wild Cherry manager and Harold Blumberg together and we went to the two Hawkins County deputies on site and we gave them each $300 in cash to stay until the load out was complete. They agreed and took our money. (more on this later)

Play That Funky Music of Else

Eventually Grinderswitch took the stage and played their set and then I saw the strangest thing I’ve ever seen at a concert out of over 1000 I’ve been a part of over the years. Here came Wild Cherry up the hill toward the stage followed by Granny Clampett with a shotgun and her husband with a revolver. They were being marched up the hill and forced to play at gunpoint!!!!

It seems that during the setup earlier that afternoon the booking agent who had sold the promoters Grinderswitch and Stillwater had told the promoters a story about a gig in West Virginia where Wild Cherry had been paid to play. The band was doing a sound check when the doors opened and several concert goers came into the hall and the band’s manager had refused to let the band go on and had loaded them up and left because the contract rider prohibited anyone from being present in the hall during sound check. I have no idea if this is a true story but the promoters were primed to buy it.

After Grinderswitch took the stage Wild Cherry had left the farmhouse and gotten on their bus with the engine running to dress for the show. Granny and her husband thought they were leaving without playing and Granny climbed on the bus with the shotgun and told them they best march up that hill to play or else!!!!

Wild Cherry played every song they knew that night.

The Midnight Runners

Finally the show was drawing to a close and it was very cold. The “crowd” was down to around 50 and most of those were drunk and likely good friends or relatives of the promoters who had lost their shirts on the show or the opening local band. It turns out the opening act had heard that we tried to get the show shortened by eliminating their set and they were pissed. Seems they were convinced that playing this show was to be their big break in the music biz.

We had backed the semi up to the mix platform and torn it down and loaded the scaffold and decking along with the spotlights and their towers. We used to tear down the Marshall Tucker set and close the doors on the truck in 45 minutes. We had this scaffolding and decking loaded in 15 or 20 minutes. As we backed up to the stage to load the trusses and lights a cargo van came across the field cutting off Don Fillers from the rest of the crew. A group of 5 or 6 guys surrounded Don and started to attack him hidden from the rest of us on stage by the van. Don managed to get through their circle and to head toward the semi where he jumped in the cab and the semi headed down the hill toward the exit. That left the rest of us helping to tear down the lights and stage set on the stage. The opening band members were joined by a number of the promoters and their friends and they advanced across the stage toward us with chains, tire irons, hammers and other tools. These attackers had entered at stage right and they were backing us toward stage left and the 10 foot drop to the slope.

At this point a few of us grabbed some mic stands and prepared to defend ourselves using the round metal bases as clubs. There were 30 or so locals vs 15 or so band crew and production guys and we were seriously out matched.

Then the guns came out and shots were fired.

I haven’t seen a stage clear this quickly since high wind blew the lighting truss down at a Busch Gardens show in Williamsburg crushing Taz DiGregorio’s piano.

We all lept off that 10 foot drop ran for our lives to the three or four vehicles of crew and friends that had made it to the site. The cars dashed for the gate and road followed by the semi with the back doors open and waving in the wind. The semi was follow by two cars with pursuing attackers who periodically fired at the truck. We eventually dug two slugs out of the cab of the truck. The semi kept the pursuing cars from catching the slower VW van and our other vehicles. They gave up the chase 20 miles later as we neared the I 81 exit.

Once we all got together we realized that Ricky Williams, one of our crew, was not with us. His brother Jackie was frantic with worry envisioning Ricky lying in the field riddled with bullets. In the confusion everyone thought Ricky was in one of the other vehicles. I got on the phone and finally got the Tennessee Highway Patrol to meet us at the Stuckey’s. They reluctantly agreed to escort us back to the site to find Ricky.

But that isn’t what happened….. We got to the county line near the dirt road turn off and they stopped beside a Hawkins County sheriffs car with the two deputies we had already paid $300 to stay until load out. These deputies had split with our cash immediately after the show had ended so we were not too excited to see these guys or to trust them to help us find Ricky. But it seemed we had no choice but to go along. The Tennessee Highway Patrol Officers told us they were not authorized to cross the county line. The THP officers greeted the Hawkins County deputies like they were In-laws or family and we were told that we should have expected this kind of trouble in a tone that demonstrated their lack of respect for long haired musicians and roadies.

We pulled back into the site with the truck and one vehicle having sent some of the others home with girlfriends in the other cars. Jackie and some of the guys went to look for Ricky with the deputies while the rest of us resumed loading the last of our gear on the semi. We noticed the guys who had attacked us standing around the bonfire downing more Jack and shine. The deputies greeted them like long lost relatives. We knew we had to move fast.

The road crew for Blumberg Sound were trying to push the last of their Community horns into the back of the sound truck. A crushed effects rack lay on the ground nearby a victim of the truck tires when they had made their escape. The sound guys and band roadies were bruised and bloody. The Wild Cherry ampline and guitars were still on the stage. Their roadies were nowhere in sight. That stuff was probably left there permanently. The band gear truck had evidently crashed into one of the sound stacks and the sound truck had run over the effects rack. It was a mess.

Ricky was found lying in the woods a few 100 yards behind the stage with Harold Blumberg. Harold had lost his briefcase with his part of the money and I don’t think it was ever found. Neither Ricky or Harold were hurt. They said the locals searched for them for about an hour and came close but they were well hidden in the tall weeds. No sooner than Ricky was found the deputies left us to fend for ourselves and we got out of there as the locals regrouped for another attack. No one was killed and the Blumberg Sound guys and the Wild Cherry roadies survived their beatings but we were damned lucky. The slugs in the cab of the CDB semi had whistled by Don Filler’s ear.

A few days later I got a call from Rolling Stone magazine and they published a short blurb about the gig in the next issue. We were asked if we were going to sue the promoters for the damage to the truck and lost gear. “You can’t squeeze blood from a turnip” was my quote they used in the story and I still don’t know where that came from. I had no clue who to sue and I think we were just grateful to have escaped with our lives and the toughest $7,500 payout Mountain Sound ever made. I guess the moral of the story is to never go into the wild for money without knowing what you’re getting yourself into. We didn’t get into music production to collect hazard pay did we?

Barry Bozeman – former part owner and President of Mountain Sound and member of the Marshall Tucker Band road crew.

Mike Borne, Sandy Espinoza, George Corneliussen and 6 others like this.

Carol Ireland What a story!
February 6, 2011 at 1:35pm · · 1

Edward C Adkins WOW, The truth is stranger than fiction. Great story and a great job of writing it. Thanks so much for sharing it.
February 6, 2011 at 2:24pm · · 3

Robin LaRue Majors There was a couple of those East Tennessee, one off gigs, with Mountain Sound. Another good one was a Bill Monroe Gig that Rollo, Donnie, GarDog and I did. Same kind of set up in a cove of the Appalachians. They had ran poles with electricity beside an old logging road. A crew guy climbed the pole and hooked our power to it.
February 6, 2011 at 2:32pm · 2

Edward C Adkins Robin, can you write up the story?
February 6, 2011 at 2:34pm · 1

Robin LaRue Majors About 20 people showed up. The eight crew guys and the promoter left. Bebo's (Donnie's girlfriend) and one other cars headlights was all we had for load out, but they did give us the case of Heineken we asked for. We were loaded and it was ...See More
February 6, 2011 at 2:40pm · 1

Edward C Adkins Thanks Robin, What was the date and place?
February 6, 2011 at 2:45pm ·

Robin LaRue Majors I don't remember the place. Somewhere in the East Tennessee mountains or maybe the Blue Ridge??? It was around 1978 or 79 though.
February 6, 2011 at 2:52pm · 1

Edward C Adkins Robin, I wouldn't climb that pole either. Good job.
February 6, 2011 at 2:55pm · 1

Michael Swaggerty Dang!!! What a story and very nicely written...."live to tell". Thanks for sharing Barry.
February 6, 2011 at 2:57pm · 1

Robin LaRue Majors Fillers (did he ever have a nickname besides Cluck Garble) and I did some good ones for Mountain Sound at the old Gray, Tennessee fair grounds. I wish I had a photo of me and the Bass singer from the Statler Brothers squared off. At one poi...See More
February 6, 2011 at 2:59pm · 1

Edward C Adkins If we only had digital cameras back in the day.
February 6, 2011 at 3:26pm · 2

Barry Bozeman I believe BIG DON was the only nickname ever used for Donny. The others are either unpublishable or you wouldn't want to say to his face.
February 6, 2011 at 3:40pm

Sarah Bounds-Anderson Great story, Barry!! I knew almost every player on the Mountain team...and then some:)
February 6, 2011 at 7:35pm · 1

James Krejci Man, we all have our gigs from Hell,but that's the worst one I've ever heard about! I'm glad you all survived. That should be in a movie. It gives me
chills just thinking about it. What a nightmare!
February 7, 2011 at 8:52am· 2

Michael Mc Laughlin Ya gotta have the banjo riff from Deliverance playing low in the background for full effect !
February 7, 2011 at 1:46pm · 1

Randy Read Moon tell the good folks about that gig in NC, where Corlew was hanging off the truck and was prepared to shoot your way out. AWhere they beat up wheels on the side of the road.
February 7, 2011 at 10:16pm · 1

Michael Edgar Great story, Barry. Wow, never heard about that incident.
February 7, 2011 at 10:59pm· 1

William Sandy Garrett You started to tell me this story once when I was over but said it was a bit long. Glad you waited so I could get all the colorful details. Damn, you guys earned your dough and then some ! Surprised Rolling S didn't print a bigger story on it.
February 9, 2011 at 12:54am· 1

George Corneliussen I was the monitor mixer at that gig. Harold and I were off the road from our regular J.Geils gig. I also wrote an account of what I remember from that day ( I'll have to dig it out). I can tell you that I loaded Wild Cherry's guitars up with the sound gear and returned them later that night. I did get punched in the face during the melt down.
February 9, 2011 at 7:08am· 2

Edward C Adkins I look forward to reading your story.
February 9, 2011 at 7:09am 1
Barry Bozeman George - glad Harold got in touch with you so you can add your perspective to this story. Can't wait to see what you remember. Harold wrote me a long email with some additions and corrections as well. He thinks I got about 95% of his part right but it was over 30 year ago. Good to hear from you.
February 9, 2011 at 12:58pm

RESERVOIR DOGS in an oil slick

RESERVOIR DOGS in an oil slick
By Barry Bozeman in Transferred from Stories From The Road Giants
or WHAT HAPPENS IN RENO means the names must be changed.
Circa 1980 Reno Nevada

The RESIVOIR DOGS band and crew busses pulled into the MGM Grand Reno shortly after noon the day before our gig at The University of Nevada Reno. We headed to the massive check in desk to find our rooms were not yet ready for occupancy. On top of that the hotel had messed up the reservations and put me in the same room with Mr Blue – one of the leaders of the band – and band members always got their own private rooms. “It's OK” says Mr. Blue “We can work it out I don't mind if it's ok with you”. Cool guy Mr. Blue.

The DOGS and a couple of the crew set off to search the cavernous casino with me since we had an hour or so before our rooms would be ready. Mr Pink spied the Baccarat Room and wondered aloud about how the game was played.

Now at that hour the private Baccarat room was empty with the exception of the 3 man pit crew and we were invited inside with a flourish. I was the only one present with any knowledge of how the game was played but the pit boss was a big fan of the Dogs so he offered them a lesson. Mr Blue, Mr Brown, Mr. Blonde, Mr. White, Mr Orange and Mr. Pink sat down and eventually started to play and actually win. The mood was jovial and the Dogs signed a couple of autographs so the pit boss came over and asked if there was anything he could do for us.

“The hotel messed up and put Mr Blue and I in the same room” I said “That doesn't hardly seem right”. “No problem” said the pit boss "let me see what I can do". It wasn't long before he returned to the table with another key. “Compliments of the house” he said as he handed it to me "I think you will find these accomodations satisfactory". Here's a tip for those that don't know. Always take the band to the Bacarat Room if you want comped rooms or meals at a casino. Those people have a lot of juice with the hotel and always have the best comps.

Since the time had expired for the rooms to be ready we adjourned from the Baccarat pit thanking the crew for their hospitality and our winnings and we headed for the elevators. I got off on the floor indicated by my new key and walked to the end of the hall. The double doors opened on a huge corner suite. There was a large wet bar and seating area with 3 sofas flanked by a railing and a massive bed with a mirrored ceiling and a nice entertainment system. The bath was huge with a shower that would hold up to five and a john flanked by a TV and a phone plus 2 sinks with a jacuzzi and bidet. “Holy Crap” I called and immediately had several offers for roommates and my place was designated RESIVOIR DOG Reno party headquarters for the duration of our two night stay.

Mr Pink and I had met two young beauties at the airport when I drove over with him to pick up a Delta Dash shipment of some parts we needed for the console so we got them on the phone and suggested they bring their friends and band aides to the MGM for a party. They arrived an hour later with some friends.

That evening a serious party ensued with all of the necessary accoutrements for a long night. This happened to be a rare night off with the gig scheduled for the next day. Mr Pink and I partied until the wee hours and we each were blessed to be left with our new friends under the mirrored ceiling. Mr. Blue and Mr. Blonde ended up with 2 each and headed off to their private rooms. No need for blow up dolls in Reno.

I had just drifted off to sleep around 3am when my phone rang. Mr Blue was on the line. “Hey man, do you have any of that baby oil left?” He asked, “my nasal passages are all dried out from this desert air and I need some right away” Now we both knew that baby oil was really the last thing on his mind and the last thing the band aids he had in tow really wanted. But there was a policy with management and crew to try to keep the Crazy Eight thing to a minimum on days there was a gig. We didn't want the RESIVOIR DOGS too whipped to play. But I told him I would be right down with his baby oil.

I still had the key to the room we were supposed to share before I got the mirror on the ceiling suite so I knew the room number.

I took the elevator to the ground floor where there was a small 24hour convenience store and there I found a bottle of Johnson's Baby Oil I purchased from a curious young cashier. When I got back to Mr. Blue's floor I walked to his room and keyed open the door without knocking, stuck my head and arm inside and tossed the bottle in a long slow arc into the middle of the bed occuppied by Mr Blue between the two lovely band aids. He yelled something obscene and they laughed but I shut the door and ran.

I really did not know how he might take it. Baby Oil wasn't what he really wanted but that was all he was getting from at 3am on a gig day in Reno so he would have to make do. I hoped he wouldn't hold it against me and would at least appreciate the practical - and it actually was practical - joke.

I got back to the mirrored ceiling corner suite to join my sleeping new friend for a few more hours of fun and sleep and didn't hear anything for the rest of the night or morning. Around 11am several of the Dogs made their way to the suite to recap the events of the night before and everyone was in a good mood. I still didn't know how Mr Blue felt about my baby oil.

Around 2pm there was a knock at the door of the suite and in comes Mr Blue with the two band aides in tow. They resembled three pelicans pulled from the Gulf after the BP oil spill. Their hair was drenched and matted to their skulls and they glistened in the midday sun streaming in from the windows. They were all smiles and laughter. It seems a great time was had by all and they did not miss the thing they thought they wanted. Evidently they got a few hours of oily sleep and felt great after their early morning oil bath. I wondered what it was like to sleep like that. I doubt they had any dry desert skin problems that week.

They made good use of the massive shower and left the suite with a shortage of clean towels. I can't imagine what that bed must have looked like in Mr. Blue's room. I expect they likely had to trash the sheets and maybe the mattress.

The Resivoir Dogs had a great show that night in Reno and I regretted letting go of the MGM mirrored suite the next morning but we were off to the Sacramento fairgrounds for another stop on our JOURNEY in the heat of midday with Bill Graham.

Outside of myself I have no recollection of the other persons involved in this story nor would I be disposed to reveal the names of said persons were I to recall. I do certify the the aforesaid incidents did take place in pretty much the way they are herein described as well as memory can relate. If anyone asks I must have a terrible memory for names. Other members of this group know the names and I trust they will refrain from using the comment section carelessly. I don't want to be on the RESIVOIR DOGS hit list for revealing secrets of the road.

Barry Bozeman – road crew for RESERVOIR DOGS – and key master for Mr. Blue.