Holy Crow where do I start? Just out of high school 1967… Band I was road manager for had a gig at “The Pink Pussy Cat” across from the Atlanta Cabana…didn’t this later become Funocio’s?

One of the waitresses asked us if we wanted to go to a coffee house that was open all night. Yep, took us to the  infamous “Catacombs” where many a man and woman were able to find a life to suite their style, or a style to suit their life, whatever.

The town in North Carolina I am from, was, as you can guess, about as unhip as they came…beach music, Madras, Weejuns and princess collars. Pembroke University (a little south) had started attracting all these yankees who were I guess, doin’ good in the first 2 years of college in this podunk town so they could move on to glory in a “better” yankee college.  It was a lucky thing, that one of their frats had their house about 2 blocks from my house in Lumberton because I became welcome there and found all this great subversive literature that would probably get me killed. It was great, I would spend days reading Eye Magazine, “The Realist”…it was like a library.  So, when I got to the Catacombs that summer night, I knew Atlanta was going to be my home from now on. I basically took the crap i’d brought with me and moved it to the waitresses and her girlfriends apt. (the girlfriends name was Dale and please i’m sorry but i can’t remember the waitresses name for the life of me.) These 2 ladies were from Fla. and pretty much showed me the ropes. Another guy john landau, also from Fla. was there also and we begun to hang. This had to be in June ’cause I remember seeing Bob Hope in the Independence day parade.

My main form of transportation back then was walking, and walk I did. There was no free food or diggers back then, I learned to panhandle and there was always the girls who wanted to mother you a bit and would bring you a Zesto’s or something to take away that hunger headache…Right now, thank all of ya’ll for your kindness and friendship. I wish I could call you each by name but i can’t…  There was no strip back then, there was a wall across the street from the 14th street art gallery (above the catacombs) where people would start to gather mostly in the early evening.

Hey ya’ll remember that near riot we had one night when this runaway chick named “Nicki” had this big to do in front of the hippies and the cops got called and the hippies were not gonna let Nicki be taken home against her will (she wasn’t ). It was wild everybody in the street and about 3 poor cops against about 150 kids.

Well since I got to the scene as a road manager for a band my nickname became Eddie The Road Manager (hey Darrel!! read yer thang) To clear up one thing, Jim Neiman was not “Nasty Lord John” that would be John Meeks who I shared an apt. and later a really cool house with. John also worked at the Scene, the hotspot, go daddy nightclub i couldn’t get into because i was only 17. John played live drums along with records the dejay would play…supposedly VEDDY English!!

Awrite, ’nuff history for now…I see shows on tv and shit that call that period of time turbulent and dangerous…and I guess it was BUT i had the most fun allowed a human being back then. I had some uncanniy ability to sense trouble brewin’ and remove myself from the said action….i really was and still am a pacifast…i spent the first piedmont park riot in a bare tree with a gram of hash watching these idiots fight with the police. My idea was to have as much fun, get as high, laid and help folks as much as possible. So I’m not perfect and don’t claim to be.

Here are some of the cooler things I Remember (not in particular order, will try to give at least year or corresponding event.

THE FIRST TIME I SAW THE ALLMAN BROS.

I was working in Mu records in Atlantis rising. My old friend Richard Galwin (sp) and I were walking in the park anticipating free music that week end when Richard asked me if i’d ever heard the Allman Bros. and for some goofy stoned reason I thought of the Wilburn Bros. I didn’t realize at the time the power that was lyin’ around and didn’t think the free music would be more than a few local bands and a small headliner. I used my “working at atlantis rising” vibe to get myself and a friend on the stage crew for that Sunday.

I remember a two-toned stage on wheels from Atlanta parks and recreation and a couple of rednecks there to watch it. We were kinda jerkin’ around when I saw Berry Oakly (who had lived next to me and john on 14th street about a year earlier). We talked and he told me about his band the ABB and i began to suspect I was in for more than just some fun. We began to stop jerkin’ around and become more fluid with instructions from various road managers and dicks in charge of the world when (i really think it was Schroder) one of the “Big Dealers” came by and laid a jar of orange juice on the stage crew. Yep you got it dose a rama….wa hoo! we were now past fluid now we were oozing, silent mind controlling cymbal stands to assemble themselves, brain waves communicating…we were baked, trippin’ stoned…we were the Stage Crew and had no fear.

Back then the Bros. would set their equipment up first, at the back of the stage, allowing room for the other bands to set up and play. and they would do Mtn. Jam to warm up…sound check…all of a sudden, Richard….remember Richard? boy i sure do, hope yer still around little buddy. Richard grabs me and (so excited ” the Allman Brothers are gonna play”) Richard grabs me and pulls me off the stage and there we sit 6 feet away from Duane and 8 feet from Greg…and they start Mtn. Jam…I would like to have a film of my face as they played that song, just to watch the changes I went through….changed my life…one thing I still remember thinking was how good it would be to be the wood in the body of Duane’s guitar.

After that came band after band of Excellent music…the Booger Band was killer…being on stage and feeling their music even through your feet was amazing. I remember my friend Steve Cooke, who had been into the orange juice  too, offering the organ player a toke of a large joint right on stage between songs….freaked the poor guy out. Long day of movin’ equipment, smoking, watching beautiful Georgia peaches dancing and swinging from the trees, frisbee trails everywhere, like some miniature space port…did I say space port? Every where you looked, smiles, happiness, friends, allman brother talkin’ to old friend…dicky betts did not put his gold les paul down that I saw…good vibes, curious straights, students, winos, little children teaching big children how to play…ABB came back after dark and played until past time to quit. Everybody cleaned up the joint, we all went home and had sweet dreams………

to be cont. (I hope)

Eddie the road manager