Saturday, March 08, 2008

Hey y'all:

Please take the opportunity when ya get a chance to visit the DHS Seniors '68 website.
The Memorial Page is rilly special to me

Tomorrow I will finish reading Catch-22
for the first time since having the knowledge that the author Joseph Heller and my Daddy Earl both served together in the 57th Bombardment Wing of the 12th Air Force in the Mediterranean during WWII.

I MUST finish reading the novel tomorrow because I'm less than 100 pages away from the end & I promised THE BARRISTER that he could have the novel Monday afternoon when he comes to Happy Hour at the Possum Den Lodge #2.

I spent a lot of time with my father because, like my son, I worked with my Daddy and, like myself , Daddy liked to spend his spare time with me just like I enjoy spending my spare time with Christopher.
We were best friends.
He described his WWII experiences in detail because he believed his experiences surviving in a mindless bureaucracy whose only purpose was to kill him would help me if I ever got in a scrap.

One of the saddest stories he told was of a night in Corsica.

The day before he'd gotten permission to drive his personal two & a half ton Mercedes Benz truck up into the mountains. Daddy worked this out because he owned his own truck (captured from the Nazis in North Africa & decorated with a Confederate flag and the words THE REBEL painted on both sides of the truck.Daddy hauled that truck to Sicily, Sardinia, Corsica, Naples. It's the same kind of truck that Indiana Jones does the fight scene on when he's trying to capture the Holy Grail out in the desert. The first time I saw that movie, I blurted out, "That's my Daddy's truck!" )
& he volunteered to go up in the mountains to this Nazi Army rest camp and defuse the boobie traps.

He and his buddies didn't defuse anything.
They didn't even go into the rest camp.
They parked THE REBEL outside the camp, went hunting, then camped on the rocks overlooking their airfield & got stoned.

So my Daddy's drunker than Cooter Brown sitting up on this rock at 3:30 in the morning and the Germans attack his unit's airfield located at the foot on the mountain below him. For 75 minutes Daddy sat up on his rock watching the Germans knock out his unit's anti-aircraft guns, drop flairs on the airfield, cut on their bomber's landing lights and fly 50 feet above the ground strafing his buddies' tents.

All Daddy could do when it was all over was pass out on his rock and wake up the next morning so he could drive THE REBEL down the mountain and help clean up the mess.

Daddy always said that German spies had to have directed the attack because it was so successful.

Well, Joseph Heller,
our Brooklyn N.Y. Hebrew brother with a mother of a similar color, just happened to be down there at Alesan Airfield that night & he used the incident in his novel Catch-22.

Text courtesy of

The base of the 340th. Bombardment Group AAF, Alesan Airfield, Corsica, was attacked under a waning moon in the early hours of 13 May, 1944, by the German Air Force. Extensive damage to planes and other equipment and many personnel casualties resulted. The operation gave every indication of being thoroughly planned and carried out accordingly. The gun control room of the anti-aircraft units defending the airfield reported the first enemy plane was plotted at 0335 hours. Aircraft spotters identified the craft as Beaufighter (presumably captured by the enemy for pathfinder use.)

Some few minutes after this craft was plotted, it dropped flares on the airfield and almost immediately other enemy planes attacked, dropping more flares, which thoroughly illuminated the area, and loosing demolition and anti-personnel bombs, including delayed action as well as butterfly bombs. As the attack progressed the enemy resorted to strafing, dropping down to within a few feet of the ground. The enemy planes were identified as JU-88's, FW-190's and possibly ME-109's, DO-217's, and HE-111's. Some of the fighters strafed ack-ack positions on the beach bordering the airfield and on the ridges north and west of the field. The attacking force was estimated at from twenty to thirty planes.The specific targets attacked were the airfield proper, the gasoline dump, and the ground radio station trailer due west of the center of the field and the adjacent highway, the operations intelligence building close by, and the 489th. squadron area about three quarters of a mile north of the field. A pattern of fragmentation bombs intended for the Headquarters tent area a mile and three quarters north of the field, fell a few hundred yards off shore into the sea.

The attack lasted about an hour and fifteen minutes, which was from the time that the first enemy aircraft was plotted to the time that the last one departed. Attacking the airfield the planes seemed to come over first at about three thousand feet, but when the field was well lighted by flares dropped by the pathfinders and by burning aircraft, and when the anti-aircraft barrage was found to be ineffective, they dove down as low as fifty feet on strafing runs. Two courses were flown in the attack. Although some of the planes seemed to come in from different directions after circling off the target. These courses were approximately northwest-southeast and southeast-northwest.Most of the 340th Engineering personnel. Armament men, and ordnance men had their tents on the airfield proper, and although many had slit trenches to use, casualties were exceedingly high from the bombing, from the strafing, and from our own planes blowing up, many of them with a full bomb load. Some men did not wake up in time; others who did regarded the air alert as just another nuisance raids similar to those to which we had been subjected to for so long - many of them were killed in bed. Some took shelter in slit trenches, ditches or under vehicles. Others were to terrified to run a few feet to shelter once the devastating anit personnel bombs began to explode all around them. Still others were even injured or killed in their slit trenches as a result of the thick carpeting of the area with these bombs. personnel detailed to the airfield crash truck started to put out fires before the last attacking planes left.

The attack was preceded by a raid on the Poretta Airfield about fifteen miles north of Alesan Field at 1000 hours, During which twenty-five Spitfires were knocked out and a number of men killed. other casualties in the raid on the 340th. Group included dead and wounded in the 324th. Service Squadron, which had been doing third echelon maintenance for us, and also dead and wounded in the anti-aircraft organization protecting the area.

From report of flashing lights in the hills south of the village of Cervione and west of the airfield, both on the night of the attack and in the weeks previous, it appears that enemy agents aided or attempted to aid the attackers. It is known that German paratroopers had been landed on the island in considerable number earlier in the year.

Anti-aircraft artillery personnel defending the field claim to have shot down two of the aircraft in the attack. Allied Beaufighters report destroying two other planes.

Regularly each night for weeks before this heavy attack which was reminiscent of an earlier and more competent era in the G.A.F. history, air raid alerts were the accepted nightly routine. An hour or two after midnight the sirens broke the deep silence of the Corsica night with their screaming warning. Most of the men in complete darkness groped for helmets, gas masks, and guns, and then, scantily clad, stumbled out of their tents and into slit trenches. This was a nightly occurrence with Jerry overhead taking pictures. It was evident that a day of reckoning would come.


One of the most memorable episodes in Catch-22 is the incident where
Milo Minderbinder, a pilot in Yossarian’s squadron, bombs his own airbase
at night.

After being appointed the base mess officer, Milo forms an international
business syndicate that includes as members not only the Allied
nations but the German government as well. He signs a contract with the
German military to bomb and strafe his own men in order to save his syndicate
from bankruptcy (264-6).

It is no coincidence that Alesan Airfield on
Corsica, the base for Heller’s own 340th Bomb Group, was bombed and
strafed by the Luftwaffe in the early morning hours of 13 May 1944.
Although Heller’s base was not bombed by friendly aircraft as in the novel,
it is interesting to note that the first enemy plane over the field was actually
a Bristol “Beaufighter,” a twin-engined British night fighter operated by
both Great Britain and the United States in the Mediterranean Theater. The
340th Bomb Group staff officers speculated that the Beaufighter had been
captured by the Germans and put to use as a “pathfinder” aircraft, whose
job it was to drop lighted flares over the target before the main force came
in for the attack. The Germans apparently left the British markings on the
Beaufighter intact in order to fool the Americans into mistaking it for a
friendly plane.

The German aircraft used in the raid were identified as twin engined
Junkers JU-88 medium bombers, similar in function to the
American B-25s, and Focke-Wulf FW-190 fighter planes.

In addition, there
were unconfirmed reports of Dornier DO-217 and Heinkel HE-111 medium
bombers and Messerschmitt ME-109 fighters (History of the 340th).

Twenty two
men in Heller’s group were killed, and two hundred and nineteen were
wounded; only seven aircraft were airworthy the next day (“Chronology”
1). The description of the attack on the 340th Group’s online history bears
a close similarity to Heller’s description of Milo’s raid in Catch-22.

I am not aware of any instances where Heller alluded to this similarity in
print, the conclusion seems inescapable that Heller has once again has
taken an episode from his own combat background and, with some important
changes for dramatic effect, incorporated it into his novel.

From Catch-22:

M & M Enterprises
verged on collapse. Milo cursed himself hourly for his monumental greed and stupidity in purchasing the entire Egyptian cotton crop, but a contract was a contract and had to be honored, and one night, after a sumptuous evening meal, all Milo's fighters and bombers took off, joined in formation directly overhead and began dropping bombs on the group. He had landed another contract with the Germans, this time to bomb his own outfit. Milo's planes separated in a well-coordinated attack and bombed the fuel stocks and the ordnance dump, the repair hangers and the B-25 bombers resting on the lollipop-shaped hardstands at the field. His crews spared the landing strip and the mess halls so that they could land safely when their work was done and enjoy a hot snack before retiring. They bombed with their landing lights on, since no one was shooting back. They bombed all four squadrons, the officer's club and the Group Headquarters building. Men bolted from their tents in sheer terror and did not know in which direction to turn. Wounded soon lay screaming everywhere. A cluster of fragmentation bombs exploded in the yard of the officers' club and punched jagged holes in the side of the yard of the wooden building and the bellies and backs of a row of lieutenants and captains standing at the bar. They doubled over in agony and dropped. The rest of the officers fled toward the two exits and jammed up the doorways like a dense, howling dam of human flesh as they shrank from going farther.

Colonel Cathcart clawed and elbowed his way through the unruly, bewildered mass until he stood outside by himself. He stared up in the sky in stark astonishment and horror. Milo's planes, ballooning serenely in over the blossoming treetops with their bomb bay doors open and wing flaps down and with their monstrous, bug-eyed, blinding, fiercely flickering, eerie landing lights on, were the most apocalyptic sight he had ever beheld. Colonel Cathcart let go a stricken gasp of dismay and hurled himself headlong into his jeep, almost sobbing. He found the gas pedal and the ignition and sped toward the airfield as fast as the rocking car would carry him, his huge flabby hands clenched and bloodless on the wheel or blaring his horn tormentedly. Once he almost killed himself when he swerved with a banshee screech of tires to avoid plowing into a bunch of men running crazily toward the hills in their underwear with their stunned faces down and their thin arms pressed high around their temples as puny shields. Yellow, orange and red fires burning on both sides of the road. Tents and trees were in flames, and Milo's planes kept coming around interminably with their blinking white landing lights on and their bomb bay doors open. Colonel Cathcart almost turned his jeep over when he slammed the brakes on at the control tower. He leaped from the car while it was still skidding dangerously and hurtled up the flight of steps inside, where three men were busy at the instruments and the controls. He bowled two of them aside in his lunge for the nickel-plated microphones, his eyes glittering wildly and his beefy face contorted with stress. He squeezed the microphone in a bestial grip and began shouting hysterically at the top of his voice,

"Milo, you son of a bitch! Are you crazy? What the hell are you doing? Come down! Come down!"

"Stop hollering so much, will you?" answered Milo, who was standing there beside him in the control tower with a microphone of his own. "I'm right here." Milo looked at him with reproof and turned back to his work. "Very good, men, very good," he chanted into his microphone. "But I see one supply shed still standing. That will never do, Purvis- I've spoken to you about that kind of shoddy work before. Now, you go right back there this minute and try it again. And this time come in slowly...slowly. Haste makes waste, Purvis. Haste makes waste. If I've told you once, I must have told you a hundred times. Haste makes waste."

The loud-speaker overhead began sqawking. "Milo, this is Alvin Brown. I've finished dropping my bombs. What should I do now?"

"Strafe, " said Milo.

"Strafe?" Alvin Brown was shocked.

"We have no choice," Milo informed him resignedly, "It's in the contract."

"Oh, okay, then," Alvin Brown acquiesced. "In that case I'll strafe."

This time Milo had gone too far. Bombing his own men and planes was more than even the most phlegmatic observer could stomach, and it looked like the end for him. High-ranking government officials poured in to investigate. Newspapers inveighed against Milo with glaring headlines, and Congressmen denounced the atrocity in stentorian wrath and clamored for punishment. Mothers with children in the service organized militant groups and demanded revenge. Not one voice was raised in his defense. Decent people everywhere were affronted, and Milo was all washed up until he opened the books to the public and disclosed this tremendous profit he had made. He could reimburse the government for all the people and property he had destroyed and still have enough money left over to continue buying Egyptian cotton. Everybody, of course, owned a share. And the sweetest part of the whole deal was that there really was no need to reimburse the government at all.

"In a democracy, the government is the people," Milo explained. "We're people, aren't we? So we might just as well keep the money and eliminate the middleman. Frankly, I'd like to see the government get out of war altogether and leave the whole field to private industry. If we pay the government everything we owe it, we'll only be encouraging government control and discouraging other individuals from bombing their own men and planes. We'll be taking away their incentive."

Milo was correct, of course, as everyone soon agreed but a few embittered misfits like Doc Daneeka, who sulked cantankerously and muttered offensive insinuations about the morality of the whole venture until Milo mollified him with a donation, in the name of the syndicate, of a lightweight aluminum garden chair that Doc Daneeka could fold up conveniently and carry outside his tent each time Chief White Halfoat came inside his tent and carry back inside his tent each time Chief White Halfoat came out. Doc Daneeka had lost his head during Milo's bombardment; instead of running for cover, he had remained out in the open and performed his duty, slithering along the ground through shrapnel, strafing and incendiary bombs like a furtive, wily lizard from casualty to casualty, administering tourniquets, morphine, splints and sulfanilamide with a dark and doleful visage, never saying one word more than he had to and reading in each man's bluing wound a dreadful portent of his own decay. He worked himself relentlessly into exhaustion before the long night was over and came down with a sniffle the next day that sent him hurrying querulously into the medical tent to have his temperature taken by Gus and Wes and to obtain a mustard plaster and vaporizer.

image courtesy of

Hey y'all,

My Daddy,William E. Register(serial number 34333122) was drafted along
with the rest of the Dothan gang on Valentine's Day 1942.

He served in the 446th Bomb Squad of the Army Air Corps' 321st Bomb Group
of the 57th Bomb Wing of the 12th Air Force.
The 57th was the only Mitchell B-25 bomb wing in the entire 12th Air Force.
A cat named Bob Ritger has put all of the issues of the 321st Bomb Group's WWII newsletter,HEADLINES, on the Web.

The material I found on the Web this afternoon is nothing more than a miracle for me because my sister Becky has a copy of HEADLINES
in our family album and this
publication by Daddy's Bombardment Group
gives spectacular details which confirm all the war stories told to me by my Daddy.
You can't imagine the comfortable feeling surrounding me as I read
all about my Daddy's unit this afternoon.

I lost almost all of Daddy's WWII stuff because it was in storage at McGough's house when it got flooded by Frederic back in '79.

I was also pleased to find that a cat from Lakeland, Florida has devoted an entire portion of his website to 57th Bomb Wing!

But here's the kicker!
Anne M. O' Conner at Maxwell
copied the ENTIRE DECLASSIFIED TOP SECRET HISTORY OF THE 446TH SQUADRON(usually manned by about 100 officers & 350 enlisted men)
put it on the Web!

Insignia of the 321st Bomb Group of the 12th Air Force's 57th Bomb Wing

Bugs Bunny riding a bomb while firing six shooters in each hand
Insignia of the 446th Bomb Squad
images courtesy of

There are hundreds of photographs
(Mitchell B-25 nose art for The Pink Lady, The Grim Reaper, Blossom Time, Princess Paula, Pennsylvania Polka, Patches,Missouri Waltz, Dollie, Arkansas Traveler II, The Madam of St. Joe the 2nd)
plus all the debriefings and descriptions of over 600 bombing missions.
It's got every date, addresses for every target, the number of planes and the types of bombs used on every mission.


That's life, that's what all the people say.
You're riding high in April,
Shot down in May
But I know I'm gonna change that tune,
When I'm back on top, back on top in June.

I said that's life, and as funny as it may seem
Some people get their kicks,
Stompin' on a dream
But I don't let it, let it get me down,
'Cause this fine ol' world it keeps spinning around

I've been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate,
A poet, a pawn and a king.
I've been up and down and over and out
And I know one thing:
Each time I find myself, flat on my face,
I pick myself up and get back in the race.

That's life
I tell ya, I can't deny it,
I thought of quitting baby,
But my heart just ain't gonna buy it.
And if I didn't think it was worth one single try,
I'd jump right on a big bird and then I'd fly

I've been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate,
A poet, a pawn and a king.
I've been up and down and over and out
And I know one thing:
Each time I find myself laying flat on my face,
I just pick myself up and get back in the race

That's life
That's life and I can't deny it
Many times I thought of cutting out
But my heart won't buy it
But if there's nothing shakin' come this here july
I'm gonna roll myself up in a big ball and die
My, My

Now that all y'all be culturally hip, you need to help me with the creation of my new reality show- THE FABULOUS LIFESTYLES OF THE RICH & FRAUDULENT


Naw I wuz' talkin' bout 69 senior class beauty K. L.'s pop. Frank, Billy Gant and I did his funeral not too long ago. Billy's daughter is married to R.U. and K.'s daughter.

Mr. Lindsey had a pawn shop and did short loans in the 100 or 200 block of north foster. Most days around noon he'd shut down and go to the sports palace or snooker q and shoot.

We chillern' followed a strict code of shut up, give up your table, be seen not heard, and you can occupy a stool during a shoot and admire.

R.U. was a good shooter, Mr. Lindsey ruled!

I been citin' initials some to protect the innocent but Mr. Lindsey was legend!

Hope that clarifies!



Friday, March 07, 2008

I remember Norman Andrews.

Obviously I met him through John Rainey.

I remember when I first started with Roy Orbison and the Candymen, we would all stay at the Heart of Dothan Motel.
It seems like we would always be hanging out all nite @ Buie's City Cafe after the clubs on the Strip closed.
Norman was there a lot with us. He was a wonderful guy. Always full of life and excited about just making music.
John Rainey had a way of bringing together the good guys. Norman was definitely one of them.
I know that he will be very much missed by the Dothan musical community.
I also know he's up there with Roy Orbison, Bill Gilmore, Fred Guarino, lil' Bobby, and John Rainey Rockin' for the Lord!!!!
Robert Nix.....................................

left to right: "Little Bobby" Peterson, Bill Gilmore, Robert Nix, John Rainey Adkins, Rodney Justo

left to right: James "Bubba" Lathem, Jimmy Dean, Fred Guarino, John Rainey Adkins, Wilbur Walton Jr.

Hey Robert,
Have you heard about this? It's like our own "mini-woodstock"...but it damn sure ain't FREE!
So load up your pipes & bring your flowers....
oh, no, wait...that was back a long time ago...damn these flashbacks!

Thanks for the email about the benefit for Norman Andrews. I certainly intend to be there & figure you'll make the trip down. A great out-pouring of love & help for Pam & great music for us to enjoy.
Peace Out Man,
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Date: Thu, 6 Mar 2008 21:08:10 +0000
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BamaJam Music and Arts Festival | 1 Maverick Way | Enterprise | AL | 36330




image courtesy of
and Band had a great rehearsal in Memphis tonite and is now booked in Austin SxSW

@ Bad Dog's (sorry, that's Dirty Dog's Bar)

image courtesy of

Tuesday the 11th, Batesville, MS, SpringFest, Friday May 16th,

and the Osceola Arkansas Music Fest Sat. May 17th
and today she got offers for three more festivals and a Biker thang @ the Jackson, MS Coliseum at the end of March.
Alison wanted me to thank all you guys so much for what ya'll and the Great Unsigned have done for her and MEMPHIS MUSIC!!!
Keep on Rockin' in the Free World!!!

Robert Nix..................
P.S. Tell Dirty Dog, it's like Col.Tom Parker used to say about any press, "Just spell the name right"........................... .......................................

Wednesday, March 05, 2008

Seems like, to my burnt' out memory, Creel's sandwich shop was behind the current Art's Music Shop on the corner of Cherokee and W. Main. It's been many things since, it's currently a Social Dance Club, whatever one of those be.
Seems like me, Neil B., Bruce W., and mybe Dick T. played music in the parking lot on a Saturday or two. Maybe Jimmy J. too.
The pool room was up on W. Main in front of the Sandwich shop. They had four tables or so, but they had a Snooker table in the back, awesome. You had to do some dealin' to book time on that puppy.
We also shot at the Snooker Q and the Sports Palace at the hump downtown. I shot more at the Snooker Q than the Sports Palace. I remember seeing Mr. Lindsey work his majic at both venues. When he was shootin' you just watched and marveled. He could shoot out the lights.
And of course there was no wagering, strictly a gentleman's game. And no one ever pretended not to be a very good player and then suddenly, when you were down several games and the consideration was considerable, had a profound revelation, ran the table, collected and left your opponent desiring just one more game. 9 ball ruled. 8 ball was for wennies and Snooker was the sport of Kings!

There will be a benefit for Norman at Cowboy's Night Club April 13 (Sun. @ 2-6pm)

image courtesy of

Norman's widow Pam, has a lot of medical and funeral expenses and no insurance but a lot of Normans' former bandmates and friends will be jamming there and donations of $10 and up will go to help defray Pams' debt.

Anyway for more info, e-mail me @,

David Adkins

image courtesy of
John Rainey's daughter Tara ,unknown fellow, David Adkins

Tuesday, March 04, 2008

This is my frist post on the DHS Seniors '68 40th Reunion blog:

For our 30th Reunion I prepared a scandal sheet modeled after the Sootzus GRAPEVINE.

It ended with this:

PLACES IN THE HEART: The Skyview, the Goober, Little P.C. above Newton,Porter's Fairyland, Kelly Springs, Blue Spring, Lake Seminole, the PX at Rort Fucker, the Green Front Store next to Barrentine's, Curb Service at the bootlegger's store in Baptist Bottom, Chandler's, Pete's Place, Dobb's, Oscar's Drive-In, Burger Chef, the Shamrock, Granger & Snell's, Buie's ,Creel's,Buddy's, Northcutt's, Jay's, Nip & Ernie's, Gabe's Fish Camp, the Dale Drive-In in Level Plains , the Coffee Drive-In in New Brockton, the Old Dutch, the Red Rooster, the Jetties, Phillip's Inlet, the Elk's Club Pool, Patricia Lanes,Compass Lake, The Busy Bee, the Barney Gray, the Spray,the Dip,the Jackson's house,the Houston Theatre, the Martin Theatre, the Rec Center and The Hangout.

RHGN! SRS '68!

O.K. I've been requested to describe each of these destinations so I begin the quest tonight.
This is gonna be our DHS Seniors '68 MaryWilliepedia Project.

The webmaster,
Dr. Funkenstein
has requested that we describe each destination & collect images from each locale.

Here's the initial effort:

The Skyview- This place was definitely the source of all those after midnight "SMELL MY FINGER" jokes in the Chandler's Parking lot.
Occasionally, ditsy high school males would drive off with the speaker still hangin' on the rear window.

on a STACK of Bibles,
ordered anything PERSONALLY
from Chandler's.

The Goober- This drive-in was located on the old Headland Highway between the Circle and Grey Hodges Park. They showed soft core porn movies filmed in seedy apartment complexes & Westerns & Horror Movies.

The Girard Silk Stocking Avenue Rebel Princes & their Southern Princesses
hung out on the Pinkard side by going down the little road that came off of 231 but the place to BE
was on this big sandbar on the Newton side of the river that you got to from old 231 at the Daleville cutoff.

Porter's Fairyland- I'll never forget sitting under the shade one day & hearing that Marilyn Monroe had just died.

Kelley Springs

Blue Spring-
Here's a tidbit about Blue Spring in Marianna.
I thought that it was YOU that talked our way out of the detention center that Sunday with Sheriff Gauze!


Naw, dude, you came up wid the porno story out of the blue.

Sheriff Gause
let me get out of the car and you got out & right when Gause asked me what we were doing down in that gully behind the elementary school (where Max Atwood had stashed the New Orleans beer cache), I hesitated & you came out with,
"A guy let us have his stash of Playboys."

then I caught on, "Yeah, Sheriff Gause, we'd been out to Blue Spring with our friends here who are visiting from California and we were trying to impress them so we got Max Atwood to give us his girlie magazines."

I opened the trunk and showed him the porno and he chewed us out about interrupting his lunch but he let us go and rest is history



Lake Seminole
- My family were excellent guests of Jeff, Grady and Mr. Jim Loftin's cabins on Fish Pond Drain below Ray's Lake.

The Baptist Bottom Bootleggers- They never missed. Seven Days a Week. Never fail. You walk in & give the money, go back to your car & the paper sack was DELIVERED!!!!

The PX at Ft. Rucker
- Not only did we get to meet the Rort Fucker Medics who served in Vietnam but we also learned all about ACID & running up dope but we were only interested in FALSTAFF TALL BOYS.

The Green Front Store next to Barrentine's-
This was a very dangerous place on Friday afternoon because you never knew
(I never knew he was lost)

& harass the light skinned boys trying to buy some booze.

Baptist Bottom- Please correct me if I am wrong but Baptist Bottom began at the northern terminal of North Alice Skreet.

Dobb's- Mama loved a pound of mixed outside/inside meat to go! We ate that at least twice a month.

One of my Daddy's big headaches because he had to also deal with the consequences of the game room of the Elk's Club.

Chandler's- It was located at 408 Main Street across from Flower's Hospital. They sold hamburgers and their slogan was "SERVED QUICK AS A WINK"

Pete's Place- This hot dog stand was located just south of Woolworth's on Foster Street. Pete Seteris (misspelled) owned it and he and his family lived across the street from my grandparents on Jeff Street.

Oscar's- Oscar's was owned by the Big O. He was born in an upstairs room on the northwest corner of St. Andrews and Main. It you wanted a good hotdog, a bar-b-que sammich or a bet on THE GAME, talk to THE BIG O.

Buie's- The dark side of Buie's was all the girls from the Wadlington who liked to hang out there late night with the G.I.s.

located just east of the Piggly Wiggley by Northcutt's. Absolutely the best chili cheese burger ever made by a child of THE CARNIVAL!

- Mr. Northcutt could have sent me to prison for all the comic books I ruined while reading them with my milkshake!

Jay's- This was my Daddy's favorite cafe because he used to go there late at night to beat up the Yankees before he married Mama.

The Jetties- The Jetties still have a warm place in all of our hearts but for our people this cut was right up there with the William's family's first ice house in Panama City.

Compass Lake-
Located between Marianna and Panama City. The Jackson's had a cabin there. So did the Stokes and a couple of other families. I generally got in trouble there because I acted like I was at the beach. Clear water & critters everywhere.

Phillip's Inlet
I wish I still had that old J.C. Higgins sleeping bag just to see the stains.

The Dip- The Dip Was Over by where the Bay Line went under the Circle. Before Young Jr., I got in trouble there more than anywhere else.

The Old Power Plant on Omussee Creek
- What an absolutely kewl place!

The Dam In Columbia- In April we used to fill iceboxes up with carp and go sell 'em at Five Points!

The Houston Theatre
- I never realized until recently that the girls in Dothan were banned from the Houston by their Mamas & Daddys but it was great for horror movies on Saturday afternoon.

The Jackson House & Estate-
I'm sorry for the Jackson family. WE ALL LIVED THERE!

The Rec Center
- That was where Buddy Buie took up all the money at the cash box.

Burger Chef
823 S. Oates Street
During the day, all of the Business Staff of the Gargoyle & the Sootzus
lived at Burger Chef anytime they could.

The Shamrock- Shamrock french fries ROCKED!

Nip & Ernies- Brownies and hot dogs ROCKED!

Granger & Snell's- Brunswick Stew ROCKED!

Joe's Pizza- Stromboli Steak Sammich & cheap garlic bread when you were broke while you were hanging out with the World Famous Wrestler-
JOE'S PIZZA rocked!

The Dale Drive-In- The drive-in in Level Plains you took the Enterprise & Ozark girls to.

The Coffee Drive-In
- The drive-in in New Brockton you took the New Brockton, Enterprise & Clintonville girls to.

The Old Dutch- ASK WILBUR. He survived.

The Red Rooster
- Ask the Caldwell clan because they left the Medallions and formed the Pieces of Eight.

The Beach Party
- Still there. Called Schooner's & great Dothan musicians still play there all the damn time.

Creel's- That was in enemy territory fo' me so I don't know that much about it but give me some clues on the pool room.

The Sport's Palace-
We'll have to wait to quiz Buddy or The Tuscaloosa Squirrel
or some of the gradgeeates of Frenchie's College of Cosmetology.

Gabe's Fish Camp
- Good place to fill up on fried catfish, dill pickles & onions.

The Elk's Club Pool-
Is the J.W. Dant Whiskey Locker Room still open?
I guess I need to go ask Jimmy Key.

Patricia Lanes-
Absolutely one of the best places on Earth to see a Wiregrass redneck whip a SMART ASS YANKEE'S G.I.s sorry butt in the parking lot.

The Busy Bee- 24 hour restaurant in DIXIE. Not a place for the faint of heart after midnight.

The Barney Gray-
The hoity toity motel down from the Hang Out where all the girls stayed.

The Spray- The varmint infested, piss smelling cheap motel down from the Barney Gray where all the guys stayed and WHERE THE ACTION WUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!

The Martin Theatre
- I saw Bill Adams & Scott Gellerstedt there together so much I thought they were brothers!

- that place doesn't deserve a comment. You were either there or you weren't


Bob, we really
have had some good
times this year, I think.
I'll never forget the __fair__,
the time we got that speaker
at the DI! (I __wonder___ who's reading
this right now?!)
You really have a great personality
and you ___know_ __how__ __to__ __laugh! You've
got a lot of potential, and I'm sure
you'll use it for the right thing for you.
Be good, + I'll be seein' ya:
Seniors '68!!

Norman Andrews was a good guy.
Wow, 73!
If you had anything to do with music in the Dothan area, you couldn't escape knowing Norman.
The first time The Candymen played in Dothan (well, we didn't exactly play, we were driving through and John Rainey wanted us to sit in at a couple of clubs) we sat in at The Oasis and the Alibi.
Norman was playing at one of the clubs,and Dean Daughtry at the other.
I have great memories of seeing him at The 1890s with The Concrete Bubble.
JET by Paul McCartney comes to mind.
He always had a funny story, and I don't recall him ever saying a bad word about anyone.
Dothan has lost a big part of their musical history.
Rest in Peace Norman.

Rodney Justo

Monday, March 03, 2008

Roberto----I have to agree with Jim Lancaster about Wilbur Jr.'s singing. He sings now as well as or even better than he did in the James Gang. We cut four really tight and good basic tracks with Wilbur, and he and David (the most talented musician I ever worked with) have been going back to lay down additional tracks. I can't wait to hear the finished product.
I have to say Jim Lancaster and his engineer, Clayton, have done a terrific job recreating the creative atmosphere of Playground Studio. The equipment, of course, is modern and better now, but I could almost feel Finley Duncan inside the place daring me to touch the bass knob on the control board.
If there are any bands out there needing a relaxed, no-pressure and creative place to cut some tunes, I recommend Playground to them.
It was a great experience for me, and made me wish I were still pickin' for a living.

Jimmy Dean

Sunday, March 02, 2008

Hey y'all:

I'm often imitated but absolutely never duplicated.
I keep things simplicated.

by Shaka Kong, grandbaby uv Kang Kong


Hey Robert,
Enjoyed chatting with you tonight at Pake Realty.

I have been looking at both and your blog.

So interesting.

I actually thought maybe I was the only one that wants to keep all those memories forever.

Of course I have a lot of friends that like to relive all those too.

Just seemed like I was a lot more into it than them.

Good to meet someone else that is so into it.

I too have chaired our class reunion committee on 3 of our last 4 reunion.

T Class of 72
The website has not had much done to it since our last reunion last year (35 year).

I will make sure I keep up with all you have on your blog.

Actually, from you blog, I went to Gridiron and purchased two tickets to see Alan Jackson.

If you have anything going or know of any of these oldies concerts in the southeast, let me know.

Of course, these crazy women I know that just drip on Lou Christi will do anything to get to see him.

He has concerts but usually not around here.

If ever you have any ideas that might include investors to foot some up front money for a concert, keep me in mind.

I am not rich by any means but did get an inheritance last year that if I get half a chance, I would think seriously about doing something like that.

Right now, I am doing some investing with my cousin, R. I., with real estate, but with notice, I could do something.

Anyway, glad to have got to know you and hope to continue to hear back on whatever is going on.


Google my internet name robertoreg & you'll get over 400 hits.

Google's killing me.
Before they bought Blogger I got up to #1 on Google with 1.49 million hits & then Google eats Blogger & I been suffering ever since.

What you need to do is google

chattahoochee robertoreg


apalachicola robertoreg



From the Dothan Eagle:

Norman Andrews

Mr. Norman Andrews of Gordon passed away at his home Monday, Feb. 25, 2008. He was 73.
Memorial services will be announced at a later date.
In lieu of flowers, contributions may to made to Pet Pals or to the family, 2390 Grimsley Road, Gordon, AL 36343.
Mr. Andrews was born April 11, 1934, in Houston County and lived most of his life in and around the Dothan area.
He was the son of Ralph W, and Willie Mae Ball Andrews.

An accomplished singer and musician, Norman was best known as the lead singer of the group "Norman Andrews and the Concrete Bubble" around the 1950s to the 1980s.
He and his wife Pam gave their whole lives helping others less fortunate than themselves as well as helping homeless animals. They have operated and maintained a non-profit animal shelter, Pet Pals, for the past 35 years.
Survivors include his wife of 43 years, Pam Andrews, Gordon; sister and brother-in-law, Winona Murphy and Jim Duffard.
If his friends had it to say ever again, they would say he is/was a card.
Southern Heritage Funeral Home and Crematory, (334) 702-1712, is in charge of arrangements. Sign the guest book at www.dothan


Sweet Home Alabama!

Talk about firing on all cylinders! Our team back in NY worked day and night to get a release finalized at the University of Alabama so that the RV tour could get permission to hit Tuscaloosa! This was accomplished and after picking up good friend and MSL partner Lonny Sweet in Birmingham, we proceeded to Tuscaloosa. We arrived at around 12:30pm to a crew of video cameras shooting our arrival! Shawn was interviewed and then we all headed over to the Mal Moore Athletic Facility to chat with some of the football coaches. The first thing we heard on campus is that 92,500 fans for last year's spring game was no aberration and that Alabama would be the school to beat in this Ultimate Fan Competition! It is hard to argue with history but as we have said so many times, this is a "What have you done for me lately" competition! We predict that the Tide will rise to this challenge!

We then popped around town a bit spreading the word before we landed in the Women's Gymnastics meet. This was our first Gymnastics meet of the tour and it certainly did not disappoint! About 13,000 strong showed up to support their dynamic women's squad! If the GB crowd is anything like the Gymnastics crowd was last night, then we are in for quite a show! To wrap the day up, we dropped by Legacy, a local night spot to give away some tickets and t'shirts! I can't lie, we only announced GB 24 hours ago and the word has spread like wildfire! Everyone we ran into last night knew that Alan Jackson would be performing in Bryant-Denny Stadium the night before the A-Game! Once they find out this is a "Fan Competition" the rest of the competing field could be in some trouble!

Dreamland Indeed!

This day started out somewhat slow with our entire crew getting some work done at the hotel before we hit the town with the RV. Breakfast/lunch was a bit of a debate between IHOP and the hotel breakfast.....luckily we chose neither! I remembered a friend back in South Carolina telling me about the most famous BBQ in the South....long story short, we punched Dreamland BBQ into our GPS system! Exactly what happened at that restaurant after that is somewhat of a blur! If i remember correctly, we ordered; ribs, fries, mac&cheese, pulled chicken and pork sandwiches, beans, and sausages! This order is of course not to mention the banana doodad that we were comped! I think I am still in a food coma! Dreamland is a "must go"! Enough said.

We then ping ponged our way from house to house, frat to frat promoting GB! I think most of the students were pretty surprised to see a 42 foot monster circling the campus but we made our presence felt! We stopped by a number of day gatherings (weather was 75 and sunny!) to spread the word and say hello to the outgoing youth! Our rounds reminded all of us of that very 1st spring day when we were in college! Those were the days!

Our day concluded with a stop at Buffalo Phils for a snack and some sun! I know every one of us went to sleep dreaming of the sweet BBQ!

You are a good judge of character or in her case lack of character. I am famous for telling it like it is so here I go getting myself in trouble again. When I hear her name my blood boils.
She used to hang out with R. alot. She came to one of our album release parties one night and Bill had to ask her to leave because she was wearing an excuse for a dress that showed her incredibly ugly boobs. She was also acting like the extremely low class whore that she was and she was embarrassing everyone.
But that is just the tip of the assburg.
After R. had left the band we were booked in A. with her band as an opening act before M.F. and then us.
While we were onstage she wobbled up the stairs to the stage. It was obvious that she was so drunk that she could hardly stand up. She then proceeded to try to come on stage with us. We had no use for her at all, she was noted for being a troublemaker. One of our roadies ask her to please go back to the rear of the stage but she got violent and started cursing him and everyone in our crew. She kept trying to come on stage and finally the roadie grabbed her and was going to get her off the stage. as nicely as possible but she bit him, I mean badly, on his leg, to the bone, and as a reflex he hit her. The promoter threw her out of the building and told us she had started crap in other areas too.
After the show we were all in the dressing room when she started banging on the locked door. I have no idea how she got back in the concert. A different roadie went out and told her that we did not want her backstage and to please go away.
According to the roadie she started banging her head on the metal door, really hard. At the same time she was screaming, let me in that f------- door. Finally she went away, we left the venue and got on our bus and headed to Florida.

A few days later our management called us and said that she had filed a lawsuit against us for a gazillion dollars.
This frivolous lawsuit drug on for many years, with her going to scumbag lawyer after another.
I never found out what the final outcome of that suit was because I quit the band and got from the members of the band, a legal document stating that I was not to be included in any pending or new Inc. lawsuits.

I did give them something in return that shall remain unknown.

So, that is what I know about her

Don't get me in another lawsuit, please.

The member that remembers all of it, even the crap.


Hi Jeff,
New news from Playground!
Wilbur Walton Jr. and the James Gang, even though Alabama guys, recorded at Playground as early as 1973. I believe they were the most popular during the 1964-1967 time period. There were the Ascot 45's,"Georgia Pines",
"Ladies Man" and "Everybody Knows (but Her), "Right String Baby but the Wrong Yo Yo" that were pre 73 but all had something to do with Playground through publishing and writers.

The good news: Wilbur has been down over the last month and a half to record 4 NEW songs. He brought David Adkins to play gtr and keys (John Rainey's brother) and Jimmy Dean from the original James Gang. There will be a 4 song CD issued on Playground Records entitled Mister Redbud in the very near future. The material is timeless and Wilbur is better than ever. Depending on how this CD is received, we'll probably follow with a full cd release of the older material..

Jim Lancaster
Playground Recording Studo
Valparaiso, Fl.

response for Jeff Miami @

We consider the James Gang honorary Floridians.
After all, they played at the Par-Tee Lounge on South Dixie, got airplay on WFUN in Miami, and had one of their songs covered by Steve Alaimo. Good to hear that Wilbur is still doing his thing.