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Auburn: Looking back at Last Week, Looking Ahead to This Week

That fast and furious Gus Bus that we analyzed back in July is now officially rolling. There were a few sputters and misses in week one. There were also some pedal to the metal moments. Climb aboard and let’s take a look at what lies before and behind. HONK HONK!!!
Arkansas proved to be a worthy opponent, at least for a half. With a bit of a tune up in the garage at intermission and, filled with premium, the Gus Bus was flat out dominant in the second stanza.

Here are some particulars for your cruise through this ride:

Auburn came in third in the SEC in total yards at 595.
They were fifth in total yards on defense giving up 328.
214.6 was AU’s passing efficiency rating. That was NUMBER ONE in the conference.
The Tigers were 100% in the red zone.
.643 was the third down conversion rate for number eleven nationally and number two in the SEC.
Here’s a good one. Hope it doesn’t make your eyes pop out. Auburn AVERAGED 9.7 yards on first down, 7.3 yards on second down and 8.1 yards on third down.
After some struggles in the first half, Auburn’s defense gave up only 61 yards TOTAL in the second half. Only 2 of those were rushing yards.

Some individual numbers from the guys who make it go:

Jeremy Johnson passed for 243 yards in his one half of work and his passing efficiency rating was 243.8. That was good enough for first in the country!
He was 12 for 16. Quick, do the math… 75%.
Quan Bray was number one in the SEC in punt return average. A 15.5 yard average on two returns.
Nick Marshall gave AU a huge boost with his running the zone read as one would expect. His passing wasn’t too shabby either. He completed 66.7% of his passes.
Cameron Artis-Payne. CAP rushed for 177 net yards at 6.8 yards per carry.
Corey Grant ran for 87 yards on 10 carries. More math… 8.7 yards per carry.
Duke Williams. Duke came in at numero uno in the SEC in total receiving yards. 154 of them on nine receptions. That is 17.1 yards per catch.
Melvin “Big Play” Ray averaged WHAT per catch? 38.5 yards. He only caught two but, man, did he make them count! The ball boy did a pretty good job on chasing Melvin down the sideline also.
AND… Daniel Carlson came in first in the SEC in average yards per punt at 53.3 yards per boot.

Auburn’s 45-21 victory over the Razorbacks was THE largest margin of victory for the Tigers in the series which now stands at 13-10-1 AU. My pick was 42-20. That ain’t bad but I do have a wee bit of room for improvement.
All things considered it was a very good opening day for the home team. And if a team’s greatest improvement is from the first game to the second, then the Spartans from San Jose are in for a long, long day.
That brings us to this week’s contest.
San Jose State University is a member of the Mountain West Conference(West Division). As a point-of-reference, some of the other conference members are Nevada, Wyoming, Colorado State, San Diego State, Hawaii, Fresno State and UNLV.
The Spartans are coached by Ron Caragher who is in his second year at the helm. He was an assistant at Kentucky from 2003-2006. prior to that he served a number of years at UCLA. From 2007-2013 he was the head coach at the University of San Diego where he complied a 44-22 record.
Last week the Spartans defeated North Dakota by a 42-10 count. They were led by quarterback Blake Jurich who completed 22 of 25 passes for 250 yards and 3 TD’s. That is impressive. But they averaged only 3.8 yards per rush. Not so good.
Auburn is a 31 point favorite over the bunch from Silicon Valley. This is too low. Auburn should dominate both sets of trenches and have a comfortable lead by halftime. Look for the running game to pile up big numbers. The passing game should get some good work in as well. We should see a lot of Jeremy Johnson in the second half. Running backs Peyton Barber, and hopefully Roc Thomas, could get a good many carries.
It’s going to, once again, be hot and humid on The Plains. This should further add to the Spartans misery.

Auburn 52 San Jose State 13

Jesus, The Missing Years

There has been much speculation as to what Jesus did between the ages of twelve and thirty. Some theorize that he traveled East and studied Buddhism. This brings to mind a line from a Ray Wylie Hubbard song, “Buddha wasn’t a Christian but Jesus would’ve made a good Buddhist.”

Good point brother Ray. After all, Buddha is known as The Compassionate One. Christianity was, in the beginning, an Eastern religion. It has become Western Europeanized and North Americanized to the point that it sometimes it’s hard to recognize. Well, that’s all good for another time and another day. All that being said, it brings me to my point…

Where was I for the twenty-six years of August 1987 until August 2013? Studying and practicing Buddhism, however erratically, was included in a chunk of those years. Those years would be the 90’s. I met some good Buddhists and some of them were monks. I learned the importance of meditation back then. I wish I could discipline myself to practice it more frequently. It is very important to stop, sit and just breathe. STOP. Be quiet. Listen.

Remember August 1 from the ‘Amazing Grace’ blog last week? It was written on August 1 to coincide with my conversion experience which took place on August 1, 1975.

We now go to August 1, 1987. Our family was having a nice afternoon at Point Reyes Beach which is north of San Francisco. I had been getting that “feeling” deep in my heart. THE SPIRIT was rumbling restless in my soul. Ok, what’s going on here, I thought. Every song and every sign seemed to whisper, “Alabama… Home.” I was getting nervous and you can only imagine how Melodye with an E felt. By the time we got back to our apartment in San Rafael, CA I was listening.

Me and Paul had tickets to a Hank Williams, Jr concert that night. I thought it a good opportunity to do some good ole honky tonkin’ on that Saturday evening and, maybe, get away from the serious soul searching I was wrestling with for awhile. WRONG!!! (Remember the McLaughin Report parody on SNL?)

It turns out all the Hank Jr concert did was to add to the case that was being built by THE SPIRIT. Return to Alabama. You have got to be kidding me! Hank Jr ? I will sleep on it. I slept on it. “Well I woke up Sunday morning with no way to hold my head that it did not hurt…” And I sent Paul and the kids on to church while I stayed home and did some ferocious grappling. I felt like Jacob… or Kris Kristofferson.

I prayed and I grappled and the more I did the louder it got. GO HOME! When Paul got back from church I broke the news to her. She took it like she did all the other “calls”, pretty much in stride, saint that she is. Thus we began to make plans to return to the “Heart of Dixie.” But where? When? How?

I continue to be amazed at how she rolls with all of these situations we find ourselves in but she was adamant about one thing concerning this move. She flatly stated, “If we are going back to Alabama there is only ONE place that I will move to… Auburn!”

Long story short is, three weeks later we find ourselves living in Starr’s Trailer Park in the Loveliest Village. With the help of her uncle L.C. Brown, who had been a principal at Beulah High School for many years, Paul got a job at Beauregard High School in Lee County. I submitted my credentials to the local Baptist Association there. Also I picked up the Opelika-Auburn News that first Sunday we were there and began to scour the want ads. I came to one job opening that jumped off the page at me. The Auburn Alumni association was hiring someone to speak to Auburn Club meetings and perform other various and sundry duties. I’m their man ! WRONG PART DEUX!!!

I did not even get interviewed for the job. I chalked it up as their loss. Now it is lesson time about how things work as a “civilian.” Sixty sets of World Books sold door to door later, I get a call from the said local Baptist Association. I was informed that Loachapoka Baptist Church needed a preacher. This was in January of 1988.

I met with some of the good people of the church and we set up a Sunday, that month, to preach a trial sermon. Now let me say here that I had been having some doubts in my walk of faith. I was very much disenchanted with the Institutional Church, and disenchanted is putting it mildly.

I had done a project on Will D. Campbell while at Golden Gate Seminary. He had been one of the biggest influences on my life at that point. I had found a friend in my disdain for the Institutional Church. Preacher Will had been out of it for many years. He had been a participant on the cutting edge of the Civil Rights movement. He was my hero. And if you haven’t read any of his works then HURRY up and do so. Start with ‘Brother to a Dragonfly’.

We return to a bright and sunny Sunday morning in the same January of 1988. I brought the message and it was very well-received. The small white clapboard building was almost full. They had turned out in force. I stood at the entry door to the church and shook hands with the congregants as they departed. They were all smiles. I could see where this was going. There was one small problem though… “I don’t believe what I just said.” That thought was blindingly overwhelming me. Rut Row! I did not participate in another sermon for almost twenty-six years. So that brings us to… Jesus, The Missing Years.

Amazing Grace

And now back to the summer of 1975.

August 1st 1975. Me and a couple of my fraternity brothers (Ed Starkie and Keith Harvey) were high stepping to the Adams Center on the TSU campus on this bright and glorious Friday morning. We met another of our brothers (Tom Mathews) coming out the door as we were walking in. We paused to discuss what debauchery we might engage in that night.

Tom took us aback with his take on the situation. He said, “If y’all have noticed I haven’t been partying with you guys for the last couple of weeks and it’s because of Jesus Christ.”

I had never had such a moment of clarity in my life. In my mind something very loud and powerful hit me like a ton of bricks. “That’s it! That’s it! Jesus Christ!” I didn’t tell anyone until later that evening about the blast of light that had illuminated my thoughts so powerfully and vividly.

Exactly one week earlier, on July 25th, I found myself doing something that I considered odd for me. I got up that morning, after a crazy Thursday night of revelry, thinking about my future. I would, hopefully, graduate from T-roy in March of 1976 and the thought occurred to me… “What on earth is going to happen then ?” When people asked me what I thought I would do upon matriculation I told then I would like to be a DJ or, if dreaming BIG, the voice of the Auburn Tigers.

But I had taken exactly ZERO steps toward doing anything that resembled accomplishing either one of those goals. I hadn’t even bothered to attempt to get a job at the campus radio station. That would have required effort and responsibility and I was not heavy laden with either effort or responsibility. Those of you that knew me back then would agree with me. I cut class and studied so little I don’t know how I got by. But get by, barely, was what I did do in those days.

Well, when classes were over that July Friday I went back to the fraternity house, picked up my Theater Arts textbook and a little zip up bible I had received as a gift many years ago, and headed out of town. I was scared and I was confused. I had no idea what I was doing or where I was going in either the physical or spiritual sense. I was LOST.

I got in my 1970 white Ford Maverick and headed up US 231 toward Montgomery. Three on the column and rolling… somewhere. I wound up on the Southern Bypass in the capital of Alabama. I headed south. I noticed the Days Inn sign coming up on my right. I remembered my best friend, Hal Huggins, and I had stayed at Days Inns on more than one occasion in our adventures together. I pulled in to the motel and checked in.

I sat by the pool late that afternoon and pondered my situation. My girlfriend at the time lived in Prattville. I called her and set up a date and we went out that Friday and had a pretty uneventful evening. I asked her about what we might do Saturday and she told me she had to stay at home. I told her that was fine. I would stay at the Days Inn another night and figure something out.

Something turned out to be sitting by the pool again and reading the new Street and Smith’s college football magazine for the upcoming 1975 season and. Auburn received a VERY high ranking, top five?, in that issue and I got pretty excited about the coming fall.

Later that night I went to the movies. As I was standing in line to get a ticket to see ‘Jaws’ I heard someone yell out, “Bird!” I turned around to find Gladys Stephens Elliott, her fiancé Jimmy Elliott and another couple. They graciously invited me to sit with them. Auburn Family, all four of them, and Jimmy had even played basketball for Auburn. “This must be a sign,” I thought. Looking good AU!

When the movie was over we parted ways and assured each other that there would be NO going back into the water for some time. (I could’t even get in the tub for a week!) I hopped in the Mav and went looking for a bar. I came upon such a place in the Cloverdale section of Monkeytown. I ran into a Troy friend of mine there. His name was Fred and I cannot remember his last name but I can see his face. Fred and I had a few cans of Schlitz and called it a night before we got too drunk to drive. That was the way it was done back then. Or if you were with a group of people the LEAST drunk person drove. SMH.

On the way back to the Ritz-Carlton, WAIT ! Another time, another place, I’m sorry… the Days Inn, I stopped for a six pack of “The beer that made Milwaukee famous.” I went to the room, put the beer on ice in the sink and turned on the TV. I have no recollection what was on TV late that night or, more accurately, Sunday morning. I’m sure there must have been commercials hawking cars for Capital Chevrolet or the like. Whatever.

I could not concentrate on television or anything else for that matter. THE FEAR was coming over me. I wondered where I was going and what was I going to do with my life. I had not ONE clue. I have never felt so lost and alone in my life. The alcohol had made me emotional. I began to weep.

I did not pick up the little zip up King James version of the bible. But through my tears I cried out, “Please help me God.”

Sunday and the remainder of the following week went without another thought of this cry for help or much of anything else except the same ole, same ole. That is until Me and Bear and Keith ran into Tom at the Adams center the next Friday, August 1. “It’s because of Jesus Christ.” Holy Mercy! “That’s it ! That’s it ! Jesus Christ !”

I went back to the fraternity house almost skipping. I was so happy I couldn’t contain myself. I even went and picked up trash from Thursday night’s activities along with Mark Boghich and Woods Culpepper. I even swept the huge front porch of the old Victorian there on Three Notch Street. That you would have to have seen to believe it. Bird was NOT one given to sweeping or cleaning or anything else of that nature. Symbolic huh?

I told my dear brother Woods what had been going on with me and he was very happy as he had recently “found” Jesus. As he is given to say to this day, “Bird I’m so glad we found Jesus. He was hiding behind the sofa the whole time.” LOL! I love you Woods!

That night I went over to the beautiful little Episcopal church there in Troy. I knew it left it doors open 24/7. We did some of our initiation week from that house of God. I always seemed to feel a presence there. I thought it to be a good quiet place to do what I had to do.

So I walked into the church, feel prostrate on the floor in front of the altar, and I asked God to forgive me and to please come into my heart. She did.

“Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me.
I ONCE was lost but NOW am found,
Was BLIND, but now I SEE.
T’was Grace that taught my heart to fear.
And Grace, my fears relieved.
How PRECIOUS did that Grace appear
The hour I first believed.”

My good people… It’s ALL Grace.
Amen.

Light’s Love

Flickering light is fanned
By love,
Stoked by hope
Revealed
As Grace pulls back the curtain
Of darkness
And allows
TRUTH
To shine.

Touching others
Freeing self
To… become
One
With all
And all
Is one
And the same
And the flame
Burns brightly
FOREVER.

New York, New York

After spending three great years in Ft. Worth, which saw the birth of our son Luke LeCroy in July of 1978, Melodye with an E and I packed up and headed for the friendly confines of sweet home Alabama in June of 1980.

Shortly after arriving back in LA (Lower Alabama for the uninitiated) I preached a sermon at the Camden Baptist Church. There were two search committees there that day and the one (at a time) that we chose to deal with was from the Shady Grove Baptist Church in Burnsville, AL. We wound up receiving and accepting a call from Shady Grove and spent the next three years of our young marriage there.

Our daughter, Leah, was born at the “new” Vaughn Memorial Hospital there in January of 1983. Oddly enough, I was born in the “old” Vaughn Memorial Hospital back in September of 1952. It was there, before me and mama even left the hospital, that I was nicknamed “Tweetie” by my brother Jerry LeCroy. Tweetie eventually evolved into “Bird” around 1966. I have my dear departed friend Tom Ratcliffe to thank for that moniker.

In the summer of 1982 a pastor colleague of mine was about to take a call to a church in Montgomery. He was the volunteer BSU (Baptist Student Union) campus minister at nearby Wallace Community College. He asked me if I would like to fill that position when he left Selma. I agreed to do this.

Accepting that role would prove to be another huge turning point in the saga of Me and Paul.

It was during the brief time I was there at Wallace that I felt a powerful affinity for working with college students. I could certainly relate to being quite lost and gloriously “found” during my collegiate years. I do so relish the memories made at Auburn, Patrick Henry and Troy to this day.

While attending seminary in Ft. Worth I went on two “mission” trips to fledgling churches in Upstate New York. One trip was to Brushton and the other to Saranac Lake, NY. It was on these trips that I sensed a deep connection to that part of our country. The work taking place there did not enjoy the relative riches and resources that many of our baptist churches in the bible belt did. I was moved by the dedication of those who stepped out of their comfort zones to take on such challenging work.

Now back to Selma.

I began to pray seriously about what God would have me do next. I was experiencing that restless stir of a “call” again way down deep in my soul. It was during one of these times of prayer that I put together the love of student ministry with the connection with the people and place of Upstate New York.

After one of these prayer sessions I remembered a package sent out by the Home Mission Board of the Southern Baptist Convention. There was a new program entitled Mission Service Corps that placed people in places of service that had no funding. One would be required to raise their own funds to take this type of position.

I browsed through the booklet and saw that there was a need in Buffalo, NY. The light went on at that point. I talked to Melodye with an E, we prayed about it and I promptly phoned the head of this program in Nashville, TN. He told me that the coordinator of campus ministry in New York, Quentin Chip Lockwood, was in Music City as we spoke and would I like to come meet with them IMMEDIATELY !!!

Long story short is… we went to Nashville, we met with Chip and we came up with a loose outline of a plan to work toward a position at the University at Albany – SUNY. Neither Chip nor many other people, saw the strong possibility of this plan coming to fruition. It seemed like a long shot. But me and God had different ideas and we went after it like somebody trying to kill a snake with a hoe. And, with a great assist from the good folks at Shady Grove in Burnsville, everything fell into place and me and Paul found ourselves set to make the trek to the beautiful Hudson Valley in Upstate New York.

The three years we spent at SUNY, and Trinity Baptist Church in Schenectady, NY, were three of the absolute best years of our lives. God blessed us so very very richly during that time and that was due, primarily, to some of the finest people we have ever had the good pleasure of meeting in our lives.

Many of you have found out, as did we, that just when you think you are presented with an opportunity to, hopefully, touch the lives of others YOU are the ones who are profoundly touched and changed. And when you feebly take that step of faith, into the unknown, that you are blessed and transformed beyond your wildest dreams. These memories continue to move me profoundly today.

I would now like to pause and give a BIG shout out to some of the wonderful people who helped make that time so special to me and my family… Don Meagher Linda Meagher Donna Williams Durfos Bob Longobucco Mary Robinson Oill Steve Oill Maureen Athens Christopher Hoyer (Doris Hoyer) Gus Ribeiro and many others who are not on Facebook (or, at least, I have yet to find them). God bless each and every one of you. I love you all so very dearly !!!

During our time in New York Melodye with an E taught at both Pineview Christian Academy and Shaker High School. I was stationed at Chapel House on the campus of SUNY. Chapel House was comprised an interfaith group that consisted of Catholic, Lutheran, Episcopal and Jewish ministers and representatives. The staff at SUNY graciously accepted this fast talking southern oddity into their circle and I will be forever thankful for their love, patience and kindness. The lessons God taught me through them will stay with me forever and I cherish them all a great deal.

In New York we learned to pick apples, call co-cola soda and eat fluff ‘n nutter. We also became hopelessly addicted to Buffalo wings during this time and we have yet to find wings that match those we enjoyed so so much at Skipper’s Tavern and the Across the Street Pub. My mouth waters and I begin to sweat under my eyes when I think about them !

Community Supper was a great time at SUNY. It was held at Chapel House on Wednesday evenings and all faith groups participated. On two of the occasions when I was responsible for the festivities, I put together a “Southern Culture and Cuisine” program. Some of the women in our church would fry up some chicken, put together some tasty southern side dishes and we would have us a hoedown. After we ate I would, in a most rudimentary fashion, strum a few cords and do my best to cover a few tunes by George Jones, Merle Haggard, Conway Twitty, Willie Nelson and the like.

When Paul was on spring break we would take the train down to “The City” and spend a week attending Broadway shows and taking in the sights and sounds of the Big Apple.

We also adopted the New York Mets as our team (’83-’86) and had some great times at Shea Stadium. We did make two trips to hallowed Yankee Stadium. This was HUGE to me as the Yankees were my favorite team throughout my childhood. I started following baseball closely during the summer of 1961 and that was the year of the great home run chase that saw Mickey Mantle and Roger Maris in hot pursuit of the Babe’s home run record of 60 dingers in one season. Maris, of course, broke the record with 61 and The Mick hit 54. Mickey Mantle has been my favorite major league player ever since that season.

Well, it’s time to conclude today’s blog in the continuing adventures of Me and Paul. And let me say this with feeling… I LOVE NEW YORK !!!!

The Grand Tour

I am, unashamedly, a huge TRADITIONAL COUNTRY MUSIC fan. With a deep, burning and abiding passion. A steel guitar sends me. Does know the the song and artist where a pedal steel was first used on a recording ?

And “you’ve gotta have a fiddle in the band.” THAT is honky tonk music. And that honky tonk piano intro or interlude?

Oh yeah.

Now bear with me as I list a few of my favorites… Hank Williams, Lefty Frizzell, Webb Pierce, Ray Price, Merle Haggard, Gene Watson, Verne Gosdin Conway Twitty, Buck Owens and Charley Pride.

How about the ladies ? Patsy Cline, Loretta Lynn, Tammy Wynette, “Pretty Miss” Norma Jean, Connie Smith, Emmylou Harris, Dolly Parton, Donna Hall Foster and Patty Loveless.
Now an aside on the “Miss” club. When there is a female artist of ANY genre that truly rolls our socks up and down, Me and Paul will nominate said artist for the “Miss” club. Then we’ll have a discussion on the artist and decide, whether, or not, they belong in the “Miss” club. These ladies are goddesses in our humble opinion.

All of the above listed ladies are in the “Miss” club. Dolly Parton was our latest inductee. Her bluegrass stuff, recently purchased, put her over-the-top and into our Hall of Fame, albeit much too late.

The goddesses, who are not traditional country artists, in the club are Patti Smith, Lucinda Williams (pretty darn close to traditional but probably Americana), Joan Jett, Janis Joplin and Grace Slick.

There are some omissions, you will say, but those artists have probably never struck us both simultaneously or overwhelmed one of us. Some examples of great ones lurking out there, but never inducted, would be Bobbie Gentry, Kitty Wells, Susan Tedeschi, Whitney Houston, Joni Mitchell and Carole King.

You get the picture.

Now back to traditional or “real” country music.

You might have noticed that there is a gaping hole or one HUGE omission to the list of male artists. That would be the greatest singer in the history of country music, the legendary George Jones. George Jones is our favorite singer from ANY genre.

When you talk about someone who can make you cry and/or give you chill bumps on the first line of the first verse of most any song he sings, that would be Jones. I’m getting misty writing about him.

It truly saddens me to know that Me and Paul will never be sitting in an audience eagerly anticipating these words, spoken by Ron Gaddis of the Jones Boys, again… “Ladies and gentlemen, America’s greatest country singer, the living legend… GEORGE JONES !!!! And at this time the Jones Boys would break into “No Show Jones” “High Tech Redneck” or “Ragged But Right.” That would often be followed by “The Race Is On” which would then give way to one of my favorites, that I relate deeply and emotionally to Me & Paul, “Once You’ve Had The Best.”

I think back and thank God for the times I have come in, often on a Friday, off a long stint on the road and played this song for us on our Saturday night setlist. “I’m so glad to have you back within these arms of mine. I can finally close my eyes and get some rest. Never once did I think of finding someone new. Cause there’s nothing better ONCE you haaayaayad the best. Within your arms I’ve had the best and I want the world to know that I don’t care what you’ve said or done, I’ll always love you so. You’ve got more love in your little finger than all the rest. And there’s nothing better once you’ve had the best.”

We would, often, also be anticipating whether or not The Possum would show up. There were two occasions when that happened. One was in Chatom, Alabama in the middle of a pasture in 1981 and the other was in Birmingham at Boutwell Auditorium in 1982.

The first time we saw George was at the Will Rogers Coliseum in Ft. Worth. He opened for Tammy. This was in 1980. It was a Sunday afternoon. He had been really hit of miss over the past few months and, I suppose, there was concern that “No Show” might do just that. But show he did and sing he did. He was sober, but rather thin, and he just completely swept us away with that baritone voice that could scale the heights of the high notes and plummet right down to the lows of the low notes.

The last song Jones did, before Tammy came on, certainly impressed us on that warm afternoon in April. He said, “Before I go I would like to do a song that will be on our new album which has not yet been released. I hope you like it. And then the lines that every true music fan of any type knows by heart, “He said I’ll love you till I die. She told him you’ll forget in time. And as the years rolled slowly by, she still preyed upon his mind… ”
What a talent ! Now let me toss this Kleenex and continue.

As beloved a classic as “He Stopped Loving Her Today” is, it is not my favorite Jones song. Can there really be a FAVORITE Jones song ? I don’t know. But I do think “Bartender’s Blues” captures the pure essence of a Jones song as well as any he ever did.

All that being said, if I had to name ONE favorite George Jones tune that would be “The Grand Tour.”

Now a quick “Grand Tour” story and I am out of here…

I was driving a short bus, oddly enough, for the Ft. Worth Independent School District back in the fall of 1979 and the winter and spring of 1980.

Kimberly was the last student off my bus which was number 454. Also I was known to break into song more than once when it got toward the end of my route. On this particular day it was just me and Kimberly and I busted “The Grand Tour” wide open. Wearing my cowboy hat and black Justin 10D boots I came to the line, “Over there sits the chair…” And I heard Kimberly from the back croon, ‘Where she’d braaaang the paper to me” and we continued, “Sit down on my knee and whisper, oh I love you.”

God bless George Jones. May he rest in peace.

And the answer to the aforementioned trivia question.

“Slowly”, a Webb Pierce song, was the first to use a pedal steel guitar.

Later!

 

Me and Paul

Last week’s blog brought us to the week of July 25 – August 1, 1975. That week was the biggest turning point in my life. I will deal with that week in a blog on it’s anniversary Friday August 1st of this year. And, not coincidentally, it falls on a Friday this year as it did back in ’75.

Onward…

I began to become a fan of Willie Nelson back in that summer of 1975 oddly enough. Willie’s album, The Sound In Your Mind, had been released that year and the single, I’d Have To Be Crazy, played often on the campus radio station in Troy.

But when the hook was truly thrown in, and I was reeled into the “Family”, was in the summer of 1977. That was when Willie & Waylon’s “Luckenbach, Texas” was released. I was Youth Director at Salem Baptist Church in Brundidge, AL at the time. I had my radio set on alarm to the country station in Dothan and it woke me up in the mornings. Invariably “Luckenbach” would come on, what seemed like every day, during that time frame when I would get ready for work.

Me and Melodye with an E have been to Luckenbach. That was in the summer of 2001 when we spent three weeks in Austin during my time as an Inspector with AAA. And that is another story for another time.

Me and and Paul is my favorite Willie tune. It is because of this song that I gave Melodye the nickname Paul. That songs tells our story to a great degree. “It’s been rough and rocky traveling but I’m finally standing upright on the ground. And after taking several readings I’m surprised to find my mind’s still fairly sound.” Paul English is Willie’s drummer and lifelong friend.

“We received our education in the cities of this nation, Me and Paul.” That we did and continue to do. From Brundidge to Ft. Worth to Burnsville, AL to Albany, NY to San Rafael, CA to Auburn to Nashville and, finally, to Hotlanta. Those have been our geographic homes. And during the 22 years I worked for AAA we took on countless cities in this country. What an education it has been !

Travel is about the best education one can receive and those of you who have traveled a bit can attest to this.

The first time Me & Paul saw Willie and Family was in December of 1979 at the Tarrant County Convention Center in Ft. Worth. Opening for him that night were Delbert McClinton and Bonnie Raitt. Leon Russell and Ray Price were there as well. What a maiden voyage !

Me and Paul sat with Delbert at an hibachi style Japanese restaurant on one occasion in Ft. Worth. Delbert didn’t take a shine to the Japanese style food it seems. He left most of it on his plate. He did seem happy that we recognized him and was very gracious in signing an autograph for us. Thank you Delbert ! And thank you also for the song “Every Time I Roll The Dice.” It is one of my all-time favorites and if you’ve never heard Donna Hall Foster sing it live then you have missed one of life’s great great treats.

I have to bust a serious move whenever I hear anybody do that song !

But anyway, the first Willie show. I was a seminary student and Paul was a teacher and funds were not in abundance. We really couldn’t afford the tickets and the night out. The tickets were $9 each. I would not be deterred. I went to the nearest pawn shop and hocked my high school class ring for $18. Yes ! We’re going to see Willie ! It was Christmas time and what a Christmas present for Me and Paul !

Our car was in the shop and we didn’t have a way to get to the concert so my mentor and friend, Doug Ezell, his wife and married couple friends of theirs, graciously swooped by seminary housing in a van and we all headed merrily to downtown Ft. Worth.

Man I can still feel the electricity that was in the air that night ! The show was sold out and people had obviously “gotten their heads screwed on straight” for the event. Willie’s popularity was really peaking at that time and the anticipation was palpable.

Delbert did his set and Miss Bonnie blew us away with her time on stage. Now it was time for THE Red Headed Stranger to bring his motley crew out and we were PSYCHED. (OMG I’m getting chill bumps recalling this one !)

The lights go down and a sweet smell begins to overtake to auditorium. Women are screaming and Texas men are bellowing things like “YeeeeeHaaaaa.” The enormous Texas state flag is unfurled and forms a backdrop to the proceedings. And then… AND THEN we hear Trigger (Willie’s beloved guitar) break into the opening cords of “Whiskey River” while Mickey Raphael blows sweet on the harmonica.The spotlight now reveals The Man himself strolling to center stage.

“Whiskey River take my mind, don’t let her memory torture me. Whiskey River don’t dry, you’re all I’ve got take care of me. I’m drowning in a Whiskey River…” OH the rapture !!!! Willie you have just picked up another disciple for LIFE !

When the show was over I turned to Dr. Ezell and said, “I can die happy now.”

The second time we saw Willie was just a few weeks later at the Sportatorium in Dallas. The Sportatorium is a small wrestling arena. They set up their stage in the ring itself. We were surrounded by a goodly number of revelers that night. The first time a “sacrament” came our way my uber-naive “Paul” didn’t know what to do with it. I took it and passed it without partaking. That had to be a first !

Since those eventful evenings the Lone Star State, Me and Paul have seen Willie many many times. He never ceases to amaze us. I do believe his playing, today, is as good or better than it has EVER been. The man can FLAT OUT pick ! Also I simply love his lyrical phrasing. And if you have never heard him do Amazing Grace, with cigarette lighters and matches burning brightly throughout the venue, well… it IS church.

“I thought Nashville was the roughest but I guess I’ve said the same about them all. We received our education in the cities of this nation Me ad Paul.”

God bless Willie Nelson !!!

Beer Drinkers and Hell Raisers (Troy)

Drink beer. Smoke weed. Chase women. Repeat (as often as desired and reverse order if deemed necessary).

That pretty much wraps up January 1974-July 1975 in the county seat of Pike County Alabama, Troy. Thank you for coming out tonight ! It was great being with y’all ! Tip your waitresses and drive safely !

Sandwiched somewhere in those epic months were some Speech & Theater, Journalism and Political Science classes.The operative word in that sentence was SOME.

And, in all seriousness, I met some of the most wonderful & important people in my life at Troy and I also continued some relationships I had previously made. I was fortunate enough to meet many of these good folks as a member of the Lambda Chi Alpha – Troy University fraternity. ZAX my dear brothers. And to our little sisters… I love you one and all.

Now on to a couple of highlights/lowlights of those crazy days down in Southeast Alabama.

Throughout this entire time there were a handful of us that considered ourselves “experts” in the area of picking the outcome of sporting events
as a means of profit. We had varying degrees of success in these endeavors. There was also a great lack of success in more than a few instances.

One such instance occurred in September of 1974. Those involved took a three game “tease” on college football that weekend.

At that time a “tease” involved taking three games and adding 10 points points to the “line” on the teams of your choice.

The University of Tennessee came to play at newly renamed Jordan-Hare Stadium for the first time on that particular Saturday. I guaranteed my cohorts that the Auburn Tigers would be a “lock.” They were a four point underdog to the Vols and I was exceedingly confident that my Tigers would cover the spread. In said “tease” we could have Auburn PLUS FOURTEEN POINTS !!!

Not only did Auburn “cover”, they won the game 21-0 (a reverse of the score from a year ago in Knoxville) and we were on our way to a big payday. So we all thought.

I cannot recall the second portion of that “tease” but it also covered quite nicely. All that had to happen now was for Michigan State to not lose to UCLA by more than FORTY POINTS and we could collect our payday. Final score… UCLA 56 Michigan State 14… UH OH !!!

To make a long story short, we experts “doubled up” on Monday Night Football two days later. We took the Philadelphia Eagles PLUS a few points versus the Dallas Cowboys. The Cowboys were and excellent team that year and the Eagles… not so much. We took the Eagles because some “expert” told us that the home team ALWAYS covers on MNF.

WRONG !!! Dallas won going away and we owed several hundred dollars to a couple of bookies from Wilcox County Alabama. We scraped up some of the money but never could get it all paid. And, thus, we were blackballed by said bookies. Luckily, one of the bookies found Jesus and we wiggled off that hook somehow.

The second and last incident I will regale you with is the Beer Drinking Contest at the Theta Chi house During Greek Week at good old TSU in the spring of 1975.

As you might have guessed, yours truly was nominated, along with another fraternity brother (Greg White), to represent Lambda Chi Alpha at this great event which kicked off Greek Week. Whichever team drank the most beer in ONE hour would be declared the winner. WINNER ? Funny term for the idiots that came out on top.

I hate to report that LXA did not win the contest but my brother and I consumed thirty beers, 17 contributed to the “cause” by Bird, between regurgitating, during the allotted time. Then all contestants had to go upstairs and perform a series of tests like walking a chalk line and reciting the Greek alphabet.

I’m very happy that there is no evidence of those series of “tests.” If it were today I trust it would have gone viral and we would live forever in infamy. Whew ! (Alpha Beta Gamma Delta…)

Many other feats of similar “genius” were attempted, with varying degrees of success, by me and my compadres form the winter of ’74 through the summer of ’75. All I can say is that I am joyful that we all survived.

And now I will attempt to “tag” as many of these people as I can remember from that, oh too short, time at T-ROY. If I somehow miss you just scold me gently and I will add your name to the list from those nineteen months…

Joe C Williams Mike Jellison Ed Starkie Woods Culpepper Tom Mathews Roland “Little Man” Bounds (Karen Sanders Bounds) Karen Trimble Mary McCall Jan Taylor Goings Marshall Sanders Steven Straughn Jeff Annis Sr. Giovanni Doglione Ted Hicks Keith Harvey Ken Talley Chris Kaufman Jim Williford Jim Parks Dorothy Goodwin Cindy Godwin Spencer Ruth Yancey Diane Howell Adena Moree William Lane Rick Ryals Bob Powell Timothy Martin Hendrickson Larimore Henley Greg Vann Joel Wayne Williams Jo Norman Barrett Cathy Culbertson Howard Tony Martin Douglas A. Nelson Doc Averette Kathy Henry Sullivan Kathryn Mowrey Armstrong Deborah Crew King Deborah Hicks Belle Nichols Walker Meg Tatom May Danny Canning Elaine Holladay Rebecca Persons Wells Paul Richardson Debbie Gabel Floyd Lee Argo Rawlinson Susan Hardman Susan Spink Susie Shoman Suzie Dover Barr Anita Bazzell Allman Leslie Hayes Decker Mitzi Yarbrough Lisa Clayton Beth Abbott Lum Randy McRae Andrew Harrison Kay Walther Kay Simmons Meriwether John Kay & Steppenwolf Donna L. Reynolds Mary Swindle Massey Mary R. Hasselwander Tricia Guy Starkie Marci Wall DockeryCaroline McManus Jones Barbara Findley Harrington Kerrie Hoffner Ellen McGowin Canada Charles R. Driggars Charles Adams Douglas Lavender Gary Miller Carlos Romero Ronald Lee Wheeler Al Crawford Michael Doyle Jim McClellan Tom Sims Tammy Tase White Paula Stokes Paula Latham Hutt Hiram Davis

A couple of y’all came after July 31,1975 and I tagged you anyway ’cause I love and remember you as well. For August 1,1975 was the day that rose from a culmination of events in my life that led me say YES to Jesus Christ. I alluded to that day in my first blog entitled May Day. There will be much much more about the following days, months and years in future blogs.

 

Rock And Roll

 

The lights go down and nothing is visible except clouds of smoke wafting gently throughout the auditorium. The crowd begins to stir. As I squint at the stage, about 20 yards from Jimmy Page’s colossal stack of amps which are humming and crackling, four shadowy figures make their way to their respective stations. The collective murmur broadens into an ascending roar.

And now John Bonham picks up his drumsticks and begins to rattle the cymbals. The blinding stage lights now burst forth like the dawn of creation. Robert Plant, with long flowing golden locks and bare midriff, stands like a golden god in the stage’s center and, collectively, Led Zeppelin drops the hammer on a song appropriately entitled… Rock ‘N Roll.

“It’s been a long time since I rock and rolled…”

Mobile, Alabama March of 1973. I can see it. I can feel it. And yes, I can smell it. To recall this moment never ceases to give me chill bumps and/or bring tears to my eyes.

January of 1973 saw me return to Auburn University and make another failed attempt to succeed academically at that great institution of higher learning. “Higher” learning it was but not in a scholarly fashion. But in Rock ‘N Roll 101 I was passing with flying colors and ready to push on to it’s grad school.

I found myself back in Monroeville, AL with a second strike against me. I had always hoped that one day I would have the opportunity to be a DJ. That wish had come true at WMFC AM, 1360 on your radio dial.

My mother was friends to the owner of the station as she had worked for him when he was the owner of the Wilcox Progressive Era in my hometown of Camden. She called him to see if there was an opening at WMFC and, lo and behold, there was one ! I went in to interview with the station manager and was hired. Later in the year that would prove much to his chagrin.

I had to be at the station at 5:15 AM to cut on the amps at 5:20. We went on the air at 6:00.

We came on with a “good morning” and went promptly into thirty minutes of gospel music. UGH !!! That was followed by a Church of Christ preacher. Whew ! At 7:00 we went to news, sports and weather and then into music at 7:10.

The Monday morning after the Sunday Led Zeppelin concert I thought it would be a GREAT idea to open up with Led Zeppelin’s “Rock And Roll.” Oops !!! The powers-that-be were not as enthused about my choice of music as I was. There would be no Led Zeppelin at 7:10 AM. I shrugged it off and opened with Wet Willie’s “Shout Bamalama” on Tuesday morning.

A meeting was called later in the week to come up with, in my opinion, a very narrow format of what to play and when to play it. That was all well and good for early morning radio, according to my reasoning but surely in the afternoon, when school was out and teenagers comprised a healthy portion of the audience, a dose of rock and roll would be a good thing.

Well it depends on how one looks at things, how one goes about it and how one arranges the hour beginning at 3:00 PM.

I would play ALL of the commercials for that hour, one after the other, until I was done with that annoyance. I would then proclaim, “This is Bird LeCroy with solid rock until four o’clock.” And after a few days of Black Sabbath, Deep Purple, Jethro Tull and the like, I was moved to MORNINGS ONLY with Tony Bennett, Dean Martin and Patti Page. Sigh…

This is the point where I need to re-inject my disclaimer from last week’s blog not advocating recreational drug use.

My thinking was one needs help getting up in the morning to be on a job before sunrise and one also needs assistance “coming down” in the afternoon and evening after such a “stimulating” day. Old Black Molly and her antithesis, Miss RORER 714, became all too prevalent in my daily activities.

But, as essential as I felt these “helpers” were to my routine, one always needs to add “a hint of color” (nod to Nathan Lane in “The Birdcage”) to the rigors of everyday life.

Without going into detail the Summer of ’73 was very much a psychedelic season. Insert “Purple Haze” or “Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds” firmly HERE !

We now take you to early fall of 1973 and the Monroe County Tigers are going against Evergreen over in Conecuh County. I had been relieved of my morning duties on this particular Friday and I was to play spots every time the football game went back to the studio.

Simple enough ! As there would be no one else at the station but me, I invited a handful of friends (where are you Sam Yarbrough ?) to join me at my lonely outpost. And, of course, the evening would not be complete without a few “tall boys” and other party favors.

So we’re just having a great time playing 45’s on the turntables through the station’s speakers as Sam sat at the board and punched in the spots. Hey ! He had previously been employed there ! He knew what to do !

At about this time, as I was draining a PBR and pumping my fist to Foghat’s “I Just Want To Make Love To You”, I heard a “rap tap tapping” on the window in the studio. It was Bill Sky, one of WMFC’s account managers.

Long story short… the station’s owner, it’s manager and Mr. Sky showed up shortly after I had convinced my running mates that they needed to depart the premises PROMPTLY.

This, of course, was before Donald Trump’s, The Apprentice. But, alas, the result of the festive evening gone sour would be the same….
“You’re fired !!!”

One Toke Over The Line

 

First of all a disclaimer. I do not advocate the use of psilocybin, lysergic acid diethylamide, cannabis or any other mind altering/expanding substance. That being said…

I love Auburn. Anybody that knows me would surely reply “DUH” or some other equally inane term if you or I told them that. But after spending the fall of 1970 and the winter and spring of 1971 as a student at API, ole AU released me gently into the night. It seems they didn’t like my study habits. So long Terry Beasley, who was in my Math 100 class, and so long to all my rowdy (and not so rowdy) friends on the Plains. I’ll be back a few times this fall. War Eagle!

In spite of not developing academic discipline at Auburn I had begun to cultivate another habit in that spring of of 1971. It was the use of cannabis sativa, mary jane, marijuana… “the assassin of youth”, as she was labeled in the movie “Reefer Madness.”

An aside… if you want to watch a truly hilarious propaganda film then check it out.

As mentioned in the “See Me, Feel Me” blog, I truly wanted to be a part of that hippie scene and I was becoming an “A” student in that course. Yay ! Success !

Back to Auburn for a moment… The second time I partook of the evil weed in early 1971, a friend of mine who had procured the joint, and I had become ravenously hungry. I learned that this was called “the munchies.” So munch we did.

We wound up at the Burger King on Gay Street which has remained in the same location to this day. We could not contain our giggling as we entered the overly well-lit establishment and made our way to the line to place our order. Somehow we came up with said order. Both of us decided on a hamburger, french fries and a coke (it didn’t matter what soft drink you wanted back then you just called it a “co-cola”).

The cashier twice repeated, “burger, fry, coke… burger,fry, coke” in a slightly effeminate voice. Uh oh ! Peals of laughter burst forth from the both of us. And for the rest of the night we would blurt out, “burger, fry, coke… burger, fry, coke” and we  laughed each time as though it were the funniest thing we had EVER heard.

It turns out that was not enough to satisfy our hunger though. We went back to the Delta Chi house, on Glenn Street and diagonally across the street from my house, and made our way to the room of an older fraternity brother. We were pledges. He worked at a deli in town but he was gone for the weekend. We opened his mini fridge and found… A SACKFUL OF AN ASSORTMENT OF SANDWICHES AND COOKIES ! The Cookie Monster himself could not have made more ecstatic sounds than Frank and I did that night while DEVOURING those delicacies. Gobble gobble, yum yum… COOKIE !!!!

But I digress. The spring of 1971 soon gave way to summer and a job with Great American Homes in Camden. My best friend, Hal Huggins, along with Johnny “Stick” Dunham, Ronald McGraw, Scott Beasley and others were part of the crews who insulated houses, dug foundations and picked up yards when the houses were complete. This was neither mine nor Hal’s calling but, it turns out, it was for Stick.

It was during this summer and the coming fall that I began to hone my skills as an habitual user of the herb. It was also a time when the world of rock ‘n roll and, in particular hard rock and psychedelic music, took this “Bird” in flight. Tom Kimmel became a musical mentor for me and helped open the doors to a wide range of sounds. Black Sabbath, Alice Cooper, Grand Funk Railroad, the Allman Brothers Band, Emerson, Lake and Palmer and the Moody Blues were but a small few of the great bands that were to become a soundtrack for that time in our lives.

Ok… not being able to return to Auburn I wound up at, what was then, Patrick Henry Junior College in Monroeville, AL. That fall of ’71 became the winter and spring of ’72 which morphed into the fall of ’72. During those four quarters havoc was wreaked at Oak Arms Apartments there in the Hub City. All of my friends there were not hip to weed in those days and, therefore, those of us who did partake found ourselves in various trailers, travel alls and secret hideaways to indulge in our “source of enlightenment.” I won’t name names (Mike Jellison, Terry Sims and Ed Starkie) but many of you know who you are and you are having a really good laugh right now.

Also I know you remember something of those hazy days, and I know that you remember them as fondly as I do. “IBJWE” was a phrase we coined and that acronym stood for “Iron Butterfly Jamming With Edward.” You had to have been there.

In the next episode our anti-hero makes a not so triumphant return to Lee County, AL…