butch...ar
New member
and i am not gonnah use dat dadburn spail checker, it wud take a year to do it......sending it just like it waz wrote
"The Pump House"
1975 found me laid of from the Aluiminum smelter, out of work and getting behind as each new day rolled around. With 1800 men laid off at one time, it thru out local county into hardships of 40 percent un-employed. Top it all off a year before I had struggled thru a very costly breakup of a marriage , seperating after I had worked double shifts to send her to College to become a teacher. She, had went from dress store clerk to Jr. High school principal in just 6 short years. With both wanting two completely different lives we thought it best being we had no children to divorce say our good byes and go out seperate ways. We split out savings and went our seperate ways.
I was not ever comfortable living in the city and after a few months found a new brick home in the countryside on a dead-end road, 7 miles from the city. This, would allow me to pen my walker hounds or let them run free . The home was a 3 bedroom all electric with fireplace and a carport on 3 acreas -with an acre under chain link fence. Quite, peacefull and I could stand on the front porch and relieve myself without some neighbor lady getting her nose bent out of shape. I had made many people living close to me in the city think I was a strange sort for being raised in the country, I carried country boy ways to the city.
Moving from a $150 a month rent home to a nice brand new country home with payments monthly of $127 was strange. I was just driving around one day working the evening shift and caught a young man moving out going to Pennsylvania. He and his young wife had built the home and within 3 months he was transferred, the fireplace had never seen a fire. I bought this oung man's equity he had in the place and took up his payments after laying down several thousand hard earned dollars. He was tickled and I was excited.
Started taking all the over-time I could get and started doubling up on the payments to get a head at least 6 months for a cushion and then wham, the massive plant closeure came about and I saw myself in a pickle of a jam for with that many looking for work, there was just not any jobs. Sure, as allways there was the nickel dime stuff, but soon vanished as employers had so many to choose from they started dropping the paying scale back and allways someone would take it. After working the unions for so many years, I had not learned how to eat sand and gravel without spitting some of it back out with a bad taste in my mouth. I kew I had to find something quick or I would have to sell my country home and knowing it would be hard to sell with so much high un-employed.
AS allways I had a nack of being around the dumbest, foolish minded friends there was ever produced. Two of my dearest and most trusted numbskull buddies at the time, fished for black bass with me at every chance they had. One was married to a beautifull lady and had child on the way. The other one was still sowing wild oats and was very thin both in body and issued brain cells. but, they were my best buddies and if either one of them needed something or had a wild idea I was going to listen.
Rick, sat n the middle of the boat that afternoon casting his bait to the shore and was hitting the trees more than he was the water. Edgur the crouchy one kept ribbing him telling him he had not drank enough Bud yet, for his aim was just not right. Friends called ED ---Edgur and could get away with it. , but let an unknown call him Edgur and it was katy bar the door. He said his poppy had to been lit up when he agreed to give him a name like EDGUR.
Rick, told of coming thru a neighboring town recently and seeing one of our old hangouts up "FOR SALE" and thought we should check into it. ED and I just frowned at each other and gave Rick a have you lost your frigging marbles look,. But after considerable arguing and driving to the town several times looking at the run down place a business venture between three good friends was about to start. A old biker's bar bar-be gue, nightclub was just not what I had in mind to venture into, but was soon over ruled no matter how hard I cussed, jumped up and down and screamed bloody uglee words. I told them both the place has a bad reputation--is on wrong side of the tracks--it had rats as big as house cats and we would be bankrupt within 3 months. It is so hard to make anyone see common sense when they are looking thru caught n the headlights eyes. So, shaking my head knowing I was making a big foolish mistake, I trodded along side of my two best buddies to the bank three days later and signed on the third dotted line right under thier names to buy the run down,rat infested, beer joint, bar-be-que, pool, snooker hangout. It had history of more teeth big pulled here than of all dentist's chairs n the state. The local police dodged the place and looked the other way unless there were gun shots reported and then they went in teams.
Knowing deep down inside I had to have a job soon of some sort or get into a business enture even if it did go belly up. Rick and Ed had very good Ideas but they all were more costly than what we had allready signed the note for. It was going to take another $20,000 just to fix the place up, paint here and there, tear out the uglee, pool tables, add the cherry wood massive bar, go to a 3 head privy for both ladies and gents, instead of the one holer. Work we did, slaved we did, from sunup till cannot go another step, side beside we ripped, we cut boards, we nailed, we plumbed, we built and we drank the brewskies to keep us trudging on with the task we had started.
A big solid 3 and a half foot piece of hickory made into a head thumping club, that was hidden under the bar, with at least a 100 initals in it and teeth marks like someoe once chewed on it and the cheerywood bar with wrap around mirrors was about the only thing I was allowed to keep for we gutted everything else to make room for the solid 12 x 16 white oak waxed to a shine dance floor. There was no bar stools left at the bar for we moved the bar to where everyone who came in had to go right beside the bar with the big beautifull wrapped around mirrors behind it. Fire marshalls limited us to 140 standing heads and with only 66 seats. We just did not have the energy left to do the add on as we had planned, so we set a grand opening date for one week away.
to be cont'd
Chapter 2.......Bonnie and Clyde
As most people know starting a new business adventure, the profits for the first year needs to go back into the business for it to succeed, but when there are no profits things get gloomy very quickly. Along with a infested rat problems --coupled with the roughest -tuffest, meanist patrons that ever fell out of a alien spaceship. We turned no one away for we were interested in thier full pockets of coins more than we were interested in thier attitudes. Somethings had to change and change quickly. It, just was not my vision of what I wanted the place to be or have a reputation for.
Bonnie our only hired barhop was a class act in herself. She deserved to work in a more friendly atmosphere, for she was raising two small children by herself while going to college part-time. She had a smile that would stop a clock but thru street smarts she had a disposition of a copperhead snake
Bonnie was not only tall and a rod knocking babe, she took no bull from no one. She had a walk when delivering drinks that made every male in the place pay attention. She took little scooting steps walking very quickly but with grace and never spilt a tray of drinks. It was from one of her suggestions one night as I swept hair, teeth, and dried blood from the floor, that turned the Pump House around. The club was nestled in between two major college campuses and another college just a few miles away. This was the clients we need to attract, Bonnie would say....attract the young married group who was looking for a safe place to enjoy music, dance and a night out without fear of
having someone pinching the lady on the butt. Bonnie, knew of a new band that had just got together and was looking for recognition. So the new band was hired for percentage of the floor for the following weekend . Flyers, were posted on every telephone pole for miles of the new Pump house, a safe place, who had the best bands, the best dance floor, the best wet tee-shirt contests. A new sign went over the bar. It said : If you come in with an attitude problem, please go elsewhere.
Within 8 weeks the club turned itself around and was making a profit. Crowds so big they stood outside waiting in line to get inside. Top bands from three state circles was contacting me wanting to schedule a weekend. The wet tee-shirt contests on monday nights were a huge draw for the college crowds. They came in droves to watch this fun and soon the winner of each contest was reciving as high as $100 for a lot of good clean fun and laughter. Thursday 25 cent draft beer nights also drew in the gents with a huge appetite for cheap but good draft beer. When the gents show up--the single ladies do also. when the single ladies show up, for the tee-shirt contests then the gents will beg to get inside. Weeknights soon was as profitable as the weekends. Reputation of a safe place with clean good fun soon spread and soon was the top spot, the in place to be for every body knew your name. The crowds respected each other and the old hickory club under the bar was retired and stored behind some boxes out of sight. We went from going in the hole, to high profits in just a few short weeks, hiring 2 more bar hops, and a quite , unnnoticed, unknown he was there bouncer for the heavy weekend crowds to hear the top bands and dance.
The rat problem went un noticed, untill I took out the trash each night and turned out the lights. then, the rat droppings would appear everywhere, the next night. One rainy cold wednesday night with the crowd down somewhat I told bonnie we were going to close early, announce last call for bar, for the weather outside was getting dangerously slick. The small crowd was regulars and agreed it best to be on the road back to college. As I carried the trash outside, it was changing from sleet to snow with a very cold north wind and in the dim light at the dumpster I saw with a quick eye a small huddled, shivering from the cold, kitten. Solid black except for one snall white spot on his chest, he ran immediately for he was afraid of being scolded for getting a meal. I whistled to the young critter and he stopped. Sat there in the cold watching me with interest as I went about my nightly chores. Not much of a cat person I was for I had allways had hunting dogs. Walkers for fox running and Deer dogs, blueticks and catahoulas for coon and a cat would not last long around these critter getters. With working nights at the club, the night and my outdoor lifestyle had suffered tremendously.
Breaking up pieces of ham and turkey from the refridgerator into a small bowl, I carried it outside and sat it down by the door and slipped back inside to watch. The starved, wet, cold kitten soon appeared and took control of the free meal from the strange man. Finishing eating he removed himself into the shadows of the night. I turned out the lights, locked up and started the 30 mile drive home to the countryside.
We did no open for two nights because of frozen roads and I wondered how the kitten was surviving. As I got out of the truck two evenings later, I had a surprise waiting me as I started to enter the bak door. There on the steps was not one but 5 huge rats, layed out in neat order as trophys for the strange man to see the young kitten had repayed the man for his kindness. A man and a cat? Soon, the small kitten was allowed to sleep inside in the storage room as I locked up for the nights. He would appear for some strange reason and would be let in with a huge crowd in the club. He grew mighty and strong with a coat black as a panther and twice as slick. He became quite popular with the college ladies and soon was taking his place on the end of the cheerywood bar watching patiently for them to arrive each evening. His steel cold eyes and his flirtoues ways got him lots of attention, but he still had no name except CAT! The RAT KILLER......who ridded the club of the enormous rat problems and had earned his right to call the place with the strange man home. One of Bonnie's customers one night named him not knowing she had. She cordialy asked Bonnie were was Clyde her cat, for he was not on the end of the bar as usual. The rat cat was in the storage room taking care of business with a new arrival of a rat, earning his keep and so Clyde became his name and the legend of Bonnie and Clyde.
Clyde got under the man's skin some how and the two of them made a very strong bond. He not only was a regular owner of the club, but was asked about by the college cuties and the wife of a local policeman who came in on weekends. The patrons would miss him if he was not sitting there like a panther watching for his prey. Clyde, was soon after growing strong and huge was making the nightly trip with the man to another home 30 miles away and returning every few days to take his place on the bar to await his college cuties. When Clyde did not make the trip to the club , he was back home tantalizing the deer dogs, the coon dogs and teaching those dogs cat tricks and catch me if you can
After one year the club had established itself in the community as a respectable place to enjoy oneself without fear of danger. The local police was regulars bringing thier girlfriends or wives by for an evening out. Huge crowds came on the weekends and the tee-shirt contests that once were so popular was replaced with monday night footbal crowds who came to watch the game with friends. And yes, Clyde the cat liked football too. Clyde, the cat belonged to everyone and everybody that came tru the door, he was a fixture and was missed when he was not there.
Sure as allways even with a good reputation the club had, a guy would get brave and pich Bonnie on the leg or butt and she would empty a tray of drinks over his head, embaressing him and he would leave, but he would come back with a better attitude and apologize or he would have been banned from the popular nightspot. Fights, never broke out and if they looked like theyn had an attitude problem when theycame in the door, I and-or Tim the bouncer soon took care of business and made it look funny for the crowd of patrons. A person with an attitude is too stupid to enjoy himself and have fun. We had no-tollerence for attitudes! Stopped bad attitudes in it's tracks. Adjustements were dished out to these attitudes and they allways lost.
to be con'td
Chapter 3.....
Steve C. was the police chief in town and he and his wonderfull wife and become regulars at the club, enjoying slow dancing,visiting with other couples and making over Clyde. Steve had even suggested installing the panic button right underneath the cash register in case of trouble that came along we were not able to handle. I just winked back at him and passed this notion off. Bonnie, really liked the idea for I had started taking a night or two off in the fall to do some hunting with my dogs. With just Tim and her around for the off nights, she just felt more comfortable with this. So, to make her more at ease I installed the idiot panic button right under the cash receipt door. Why, I did the next move I will never know for I thought if we need a panic button, then where was that old history proven hickory club I had once. Locating it behind some storage boxes in Clyde's play room, I took it and laid it right on a shelf under neath the cash drawer. With the local police patrolling the club very frequently at night time, I just did not put much salt into that button and doubted with the reputation we had come by that it would ever see use.
One Friday night and into early Saturday morning after a very heavy crowd of party patrons, the crowd started dwindling down around 1:30 in the morning. It was fall of the year in 1976 and a lot of the gentleman patrons were hunters and did not stay out to awfully late for getting up at sunrise. Tim, was beginning to sweep up and was putting chairs on top if tables. Bonnie, was doing her normal checking of the basics of tending to late patrons there were but a small handful still left in the club. Clyde, was napping on the end of the long bar, wanting to hurry up to make the drive to the countryside. He had so much attention that night he was warn slap dab out. I was cleaning up behind the bar, washing dishes and started to take out the trash to the dumpster. This was several trips back and forth after a heavy evening like we had just experienced.
Opening the lid to the dumpster and depositing the bag into it, in the distance I could hear a loud rumble of a motor getting closer. before I even saw it, I knew from the sound of the engine it was a Harley Davidson motorcycle that badly needed a valve job. It gave a very distinct rumble thru the exhaust with the port valve not closing off each time. Somebody needed to due some overdue maintenance on their bike I thought and started back into the club. Just as I reached for the door, the Harley and it's rider pulled into the parking lot. I wet on in inside and reached for another sack of trash behind the bar. Standing up I was greeted by a young man who looked to be in his early 30's and he was standing right at me leaning up against the bar reading the attitude sign over the bar. This young man's features stood out very distinctly. He was very,very tall like 6' 8' inches or 9. very broad across the shoulders, had biker leathers on and heavy boots. He was beginning to bald on top, but had long hair in the back pulled into a pony tail tied into a knot and sported a very heavy red tint beard, moustache ...
he had old sun tan lines that gave a leathery look to his red skin, wore his pants high to the waist line, had steel sky blue eyes and no neck for he was so broad. With stove pipe arms, one could guess he had at one time been in a weight lifting competition somewhere, but thething I noticed the most was the tattoos running down his cheeks under the corners of each eye. Why in the world would anyone have tear drops tattooed under each eye as if he was weeping?
He looked me cold in my eyes and ordered a Texas long necker and then glanced back to the sign over the bar about attitudes. I told him all we had was draft beer and we were getting ready to close after a heavy night, we were tired and getting ready to close down early. He popped off something like we use to not close at all. I told him that was the old place and we did not stay open all night and into the next day. Reaching for the freezer I pulled out a frozen mug and pumped him a draft beer and said : "TWO BUCKS", you are welcome to drink your brew while we clean up. He glanced down at the end of the bar and stared at Clyde, with one swoop of the 12 ounce mug he swiftly downed it all in one swallow and announced another? not and order mind you but more of a command.
Now, I had always never judged someone by the way they dressed or bythe sound of their voice, but this young man when he spoke had a real high pitched voice and just did not match his hell of a frame. I knew instantly by a gutfeeling he came into the club , not to drink a cold beer but to look for trouble. I said another, he announced once more and I said back: "You have not paid for the first one yet, Rooster!" I could see the blood rush to his face, his pupils in those blue eyes got very big and black and then looked at Clyde again just a few feet from him. I looked and Clyde was sitting up looking at the man and Clyde's hair was bristling up. Puzzled I knew from watching the cat that he sensed trouble brewing. As I turned back to the biker with the red complexion I was met with a blindsided full force of a massive fist right on the end of my nose...KA-POW, and down I went behind the bar, seeing more stars than i thought was possible in the heavens. i felt like I had ben hit with a club, I was weak kneed from the blinsided puch and knew i was bleeding very heavy from the nose, blood dripped heavy from my face as i tried to get composure on my knees behind the bar.
Clyde, let out a scream as the man bak-slapped him off the bar, announcing I HATE CATS. The force of the slap had sent Clyde flying thru the air landing on a table of late patrons. TIM, dropped his broom and came to the rescue. Now, I had beenright beside and in front or backup many times with TIM and had complete confidence in Tim to get this situation under control, quickly. Trying to get my head adjusted to get back on my feet I could hear 2 grown grizzly bears going at it tobeat thunder as i arose unsteadily behing the cheerywood bar. Tim had the man in ahead lock heading for thedoor with him dragging hisbig body and how he got out of it and got lucky and placed a downward fist on the end of Tim's jaw line and out like light switch being threw down went TIM. Bonnie in all her spendor pitched in and cracked a glass beer mug over the back of his head, the man stumbled, regained and with a swoop of his massive arms back slapped her across the face and reached to pick her up and go again, when the 2 men patrons mounted his big ugly frame and started working him over with punches....he handled these 2 grown men like they were twinkie sticks as i started not around the bar but over it, and he very swiftly caught me this time right between the eyes and down i went again in a puddle of my own blood behind the bar. with eyes swelling and tasting my own blood dripping from my nose, my inner voice kicked into high gear. the first punch was sucker blindsided punch , but this one I saw coming and was too weak to get out of the way or duck. Bad situation we got here sonny boy, go for the panic button.
On my knees behind the counter it looked like a hog had been stuck from the massive amounts of blood and once again here came the stars floating in my eye sight, and there it was....lying there quietly, the old hickory club from the old place a few years before. I reached and got it in both hands, did not announce i was coming over the bar, just exploded from the adrenalin rush of my eyes swelling shut very quickly. the man had his back to me as i went over the bar, for he was reaching for an out cold TIM, to finish him off or to due more injury . as he bent over I went to both knees and swung with all my force i had left into his right knee and "CRACK", you could hear the cartilage n the knee tear loose from the bone. YEEeeeeeeeeeeeeee, he screamed and went to his good knee left right n front of me face to face, ....he had the most surprised look on his face as he saw me draw back totake him out and he fell and rolled on to his back, holding his busted knee with both hands.
I looked at the young man and told him., "SON, u want to spit, go to the door".....and without caution I cocked and loaded the hickoy club and as if i was spliting a piece of red oak firewood with a splitting maul came full force down upon his upper lip....Lights out, say goodnight ---did I mean to kill him? I meant to stop that fight!fight over?
Bonnie had reached and hit the panic button with out me or Tim noticing she had. We were both leaning aginst the bar looking dazed at each other at what had happened so quickly and were amazed at how strong this man was. Tim was coming around more quickly than i was for the nose was still gushing heavy amounts of blood and Bonnie had started applying ice to it with my head tilted back. the men patrons were being attended to by thier dates and here come ole Clyde up on the bar to his friend to console him.
How, it happened to this day i just will never know but inClyde's eyes as he neared me I saw in those cat eyes, the burly red haired complexion of a man getting to his good knee and standing up. Bonnie, screamed he is on his feet and i reached for the hickory club, to find it had rolled on its own accord down to the other end of the bar. Clyde attacked with full vengance as if a panther going for a meal, landing right on the man's face and digging in with 25 claws, doing immesnely damage. YEeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, the man screamed and went to twisting round and round. Tim went in and once again the grizly bears were at it, as i reached for the hickory club to only find myself in a bear hugfrom behind from the still screaming red headed young man. The club was just out of reach.
he kicked Tim in the groin and down went Tim and had me twisted around in his massive arms, dragging the wounded knee and i just crawled right over the top of his head and as i saw going over, something i will never forget...the lable in his shirt said "Loyd's of Waco" as I went for his left ear and with what strength i had left took a big bite in my mouth and held on for dear life for the ride was fixing tobegin, and out the door we went into the parking lot, draggin his bad knee as he stumbled what seemed like 50 lifetimes flashing before my eyes, I tried to blink and could not for the swelling..but it was not lifetimes flashing-- it was squad cars, many of them allready there and more arriving at the moment......first words i heard was, Jay, Jay, open your mouth and let go off the man's ear, we have him handcuffed. I had allways been told that right before death all of your life goes thru your eyes and you see every thing you did in life both good and bad.
I saw a young boy running thru the forrests of southern arkansaswith his coon hunting dogs, fishing lakes and rivers, watching glorious sunsets, spendor sunrises.. i saw my dear old poppy showing me how to clip a squirell right behind the ear with single report of the ol 22 . I saw my mommaw on her knees praying and no sir Billy bob I was not fixing to let go of his ear and with one more burst of energy I cleanly cut a notch of the top of it from his head with my front teeth and sudden burst of new energy
YEeeeeeeiiiiiiiiiii, he screamed as Steve placed him in his squad car, handcuffed and said: Dat sumufabit## bites me ear off, wahhhhhhhhhhhh and went to crying like a big ole sissy !
end of fight.....end of story? well, not quite
to be cont'd
pic inclosed was 1979 I had just had the 3rd surgery to reconstruct my upper and bottom lip and transplant the front 4 teeth that the redheaded idiot took away from me.....
the lady standing next to me was a bad mistake
"The Pump House"
1975 found me laid of from the Aluiminum smelter, out of work and getting behind as each new day rolled around. With 1800 men laid off at one time, it thru out local county into hardships of 40 percent un-employed. Top it all off a year before I had struggled thru a very costly breakup of a marriage , seperating after I had worked double shifts to send her to College to become a teacher. She, had went from dress store clerk to Jr. High school principal in just 6 short years. With both wanting two completely different lives we thought it best being we had no children to divorce say our good byes and go out seperate ways. We split out savings and went our seperate ways.
I was not ever comfortable living in the city and after a few months found a new brick home in the countryside on a dead-end road, 7 miles from the city. This, would allow me to pen my walker hounds or let them run free . The home was a 3 bedroom all electric with fireplace and a carport on 3 acreas -with an acre under chain link fence. Quite, peacefull and I could stand on the front porch and relieve myself without some neighbor lady getting her nose bent out of shape. I had made many people living close to me in the city think I was a strange sort for being raised in the country, I carried country boy ways to the city.
Moving from a $150 a month rent home to a nice brand new country home with payments monthly of $127 was strange. I was just driving around one day working the evening shift and caught a young man moving out going to Pennsylvania. He and his young wife had built the home and within 3 months he was transferred, the fireplace had never seen a fire. I bought this oung man's equity he had in the place and took up his payments after laying down several thousand hard earned dollars. He was tickled and I was excited.
Started taking all the over-time I could get and started doubling up on the payments to get a head at least 6 months for a cushion and then wham, the massive plant closeure came about and I saw myself in a pickle of a jam for with that many looking for work, there was just not any jobs. Sure, as allways there was the nickel dime stuff, but soon vanished as employers had so many to choose from they started dropping the paying scale back and allways someone would take it. After working the unions for so many years, I had not learned how to eat sand and gravel without spitting some of it back out with a bad taste in my mouth. I kew I had to find something quick or I would have to sell my country home and knowing it would be hard to sell with so much high un-employed.
AS allways I had a nack of being around the dumbest, foolish minded friends there was ever produced. Two of my dearest and most trusted numbskull buddies at the time, fished for black bass with me at every chance they had. One was married to a beautifull lady and had child on the way. The other one was still sowing wild oats and was very thin both in body and issued brain cells. but, they were my best buddies and if either one of them needed something or had a wild idea I was going to listen.
Rick, sat n the middle of the boat that afternoon casting his bait to the shore and was hitting the trees more than he was the water. Edgur the crouchy one kept ribbing him telling him he had not drank enough Bud yet, for his aim was just not right. Friends called ED ---Edgur and could get away with it. , but let an unknown call him Edgur and it was katy bar the door. He said his poppy had to been lit up when he agreed to give him a name like EDGUR.
Rick, told of coming thru a neighboring town recently and seeing one of our old hangouts up "FOR SALE" and thought we should check into it. ED and I just frowned at each other and gave Rick a have you lost your frigging marbles look,. But after considerable arguing and driving to the town several times looking at the run down place a business venture between three good friends was about to start. A old biker's bar bar-be gue, nightclub was just not what I had in mind to venture into, but was soon over ruled no matter how hard I cussed, jumped up and down and screamed bloody uglee words. I told them both the place has a bad reputation--is on wrong side of the tracks--it had rats as big as house cats and we would be bankrupt within 3 months. It is so hard to make anyone see common sense when they are looking thru caught n the headlights eyes. So, shaking my head knowing I was making a big foolish mistake, I trodded along side of my two best buddies to the bank three days later and signed on the third dotted line right under thier names to buy the run down,rat infested, beer joint, bar-be-que, pool, snooker hangout. It had history of more teeth big pulled here than of all dentist's chairs n the state. The local police dodged the place and looked the other way unless there were gun shots reported and then they went in teams.
Knowing deep down inside I had to have a job soon of some sort or get into a business enture even if it did go belly up. Rick and Ed had very good Ideas but they all were more costly than what we had allready signed the note for. It was going to take another $20,000 just to fix the place up, paint here and there, tear out the uglee, pool tables, add the cherry wood massive bar, go to a 3 head privy for both ladies and gents, instead of the one holer. Work we did, slaved we did, from sunup till cannot go another step, side beside we ripped, we cut boards, we nailed, we plumbed, we built and we drank the brewskies to keep us trudging on with the task we had started.
A big solid 3 and a half foot piece of hickory made into a head thumping club, that was hidden under the bar, with at least a 100 initals in it and teeth marks like someoe once chewed on it and the cheerywood bar with wrap around mirrors was about the only thing I was allowed to keep for we gutted everything else to make room for the solid 12 x 16 white oak waxed to a shine dance floor. There was no bar stools left at the bar for we moved the bar to where everyone who came in had to go right beside the bar with the big beautifull wrapped around mirrors behind it. Fire marshalls limited us to 140 standing heads and with only 66 seats. We just did not have the energy left to do the add on as we had planned, so we set a grand opening date for one week away.
to be cont'd
Chapter 2.......Bonnie and Clyde
As most people know starting a new business adventure, the profits for the first year needs to go back into the business for it to succeed, but when there are no profits things get gloomy very quickly. Along with a infested rat problems --coupled with the roughest -tuffest, meanist patrons that ever fell out of a alien spaceship. We turned no one away for we were interested in thier full pockets of coins more than we were interested in thier attitudes. Somethings had to change and change quickly. It, just was not my vision of what I wanted the place to be or have a reputation for.
Bonnie our only hired barhop was a class act in herself. She deserved to work in a more friendly atmosphere, for she was raising two small children by herself while going to college part-time. She had a smile that would stop a clock but thru street smarts she had a disposition of a copperhead snake
Bonnie was not only tall and a rod knocking babe, she took no bull from no one. She had a walk when delivering drinks that made every male in the place pay attention. She took little scooting steps walking very quickly but with grace and never spilt a tray of drinks. It was from one of her suggestions one night as I swept hair, teeth, and dried blood from the floor, that turned the Pump House around. The club was nestled in between two major college campuses and another college just a few miles away. This was the clients we need to attract, Bonnie would say....attract the young married group who was looking for a safe place to enjoy music, dance and a night out without fear of
having someone pinching the lady on the butt. Bonnie, knew of a new band that had just got together and was looking for recognition. So the new band was hired for percentage of the floor for the following weekend . Flyers, were posted on every telephone pole for miles of the new Pump house, a safe place, who had the best bands, the best dance floor, the best wet tee-shirt contests. A new sign went over the bar. It said : If you come in with an attitude problem, please go elsewhere.
Within 8 weeks the club turned itself around and was making a profit. Crowds so big they stood outside waiting in line to get inside. Top bands from three state circles was contacting me wanting to schedule a weekend. The wet tee-shirt contests on monday nights were a huge draw for the college crowds. They came in droves to watch this fun and soon the winner of each contest was reciving as high as $100 for a lot of good clean fun and laughter. Thursday 25 cent draft beer nights also drew in the gents with a huge appetite for cheap but good draft beer. When the gents show up--the single ladies do also. when the single ladies show up, for the tee-shirt contests then the gents will beg to get inside. Weeknights soon was as profitable as the weekends. Reputation of a safe place with clean good fun soon spread and soon was the top spot, the in place to be for every body knew your name. The crowds respected each other and the old hickory club under the bar was retired and stored behind some boxes out of sight. We went from going in the hole, to high profits in just a few short weeks, hiring 2 more bar hops, and a quite , unnnoticed, unknown he was there bouncer for the heavy weekend crowds to hear the top bands and dance.
The rat problem went un noticed, untill I took out the trash each night and turned out the lights. then, the rat droppings would appear everywhere, the next night. One rainy cold wednesday night with the crowd down somewhat I told bonnie we were going to close early, announce last call for bar, for the weather outside was getting dangerously slick. The small crowd was regulars and agreed it best to be on the road back to college. As I carried the trash outside, it was changing from sleet to snow with a very cold north wind and in the dim light at the dumpster I saw with a quick eye a small huddled, shivering from the cold, kitten. Solid black except for one snall white spot on his chest, he ran immediately for he was afraid of being scolded for getting a meal. I whistled to the young critter and he stopped. Sat there in the cold watching me with interest as I went about my nightly chores. Not much of a cat person I was for I had allways had hunting dogs. Walkers for fox running and Deer dogs, blueticks and catahoulas for coon and a cat would not last long around these critter getters. With working nights at the club, the night and my outdoor lifestyle had suffered tremendously.
Breaking up pieces of ham and turkey from the refridgerator into a small bowl, I carried it outside and sat it down by the door and slipped back inside to watch. The starved, wet, cold kitten soon appeared and took control of the free meal from the strange man. Finishing eating he removed himself into the shadows of the night. I turned out the lights, locked up and started the 30 mile drive home to the countryside.
We did no open for two nights because of frozen roads and I wondered how the kitten was surviving. As I got out of the truck two evenings later, I had a surprise waiting me as I started to enter the bak door. There on the steps was not one but 5 huge rats, layed out in neat order as trophys for the strange man to see the young kitten had repayed the man for his kindness. A man and a cat? Soon, the small kitten was allowed to sleep inside in the storage room as I locked up for the nights. He would appear for some strange reason and would be let in with a huge crowd in the club. He grew mighty and strong with a coat black as a panther and twice as slick. He became quite popular with the college ladies and soon was taking his place on the end of the cheerywood bar watching patiently for them to arrive each evening. His steel cold eyes and his flirtoues ways got him lots of attention, but he still had no name except CAT! The RAT KILLER......who ridded the club of the enormous rat problems and had earned his right to call the place with the strange man home. One of Bonnie's customers one night named him not knowing she had. She cordialy asked Bonnie were was Clyde her cat, for he was not on the end of the bar as usual. The rat cat was in the storage room taking care of business with a new arrival of a rat, earning his keep and so Clyde became his name and the legend of Bonnie and Clyde.
Clyde got under the man's skin some how and the two of them made a very strong bond. He not only was a regular owner of the club, but was asked about by the college cuties and the wife of a local policeman who came in on weekends. The patrons would miss him if he was not sitting there like a panther watching for his prey. Clyde, was soon after growing strong and huge was making the nightly trip with the man to another home 30 miles away and returning every few days to take his place on the bar to await his college cuties. When Clyde did not make the trip to the club , he was back home tantalizing the deer dogs, the coon dogs and teaching those dogs cat tricks and catch me if you can
After one year the club had established itself in the community as a respectable place to enjoy oneself without fear of danger. The local police was regulars bringing thier girlfriends or wives by for an evening out. Huge crowds came on the weekends and the tee-shirt contests that once were so popular was replaced with monday night footbal crowds who came to watch the game with friends. And yes, Clyde the cat liked football too. Clyde, the cat belonged to everyone and everybody that came tru the door, he was a fixture and was missed when he was not there.
Sure as allways even with a good reputation the club had, a guy would get brave and pich Bonnie on the leg or butt and she would empty a tray of drinks over his head, embaressing him and he would leave, but he would come back with a better attitude and apologize or he would have been banned from the popular nightspot. Fights, never broke out and if they looked like theyn had an attitude problem when theycame in the door, I and-or Tim the bouncer soon took care of business and made it look funny for the crowd of patrons. A person with an attitude is too stupid to enjoy himself and have fun. We had no-tollerence for attitudes! Stopped bad attitudes in it's tracks. Adjustements were dished out to these attitudes and they allways lost.
to be con'td
Chapter 3.....
Steve C. was the police chief in town and he and his wonderfull wife and become regulars at the club, enjoying slow dancing,visiting with other couples and making over Clyde. Steve had even suggested installing the panic button right underneath the cash register in case of trouble that came along we were not able to handle. I just winked back at him and passed this notion off. Bonnie, really liked the idea for I had started taking a night or two off in the fall to do some hunting with my dogs. With just Tim and her around for the off nights, she just felt more comfortable with this. So, to make her more at ease I installed the idiot panic button right under the cash receipt door. Why, I did the next move I will never know for I thought if we need a panic button, then where was that old history proven hickory club I had once. Locating it behind some storage boxes in Clyde's play room, I took it and laid it right on a shelf under neath the cash drawer. With the local police patrolling the club very frequently at night time, I just did not put much salt into that button and doubted with the reputation we had come by that it would ever see use.
One Friday night and into early Saturday morning after a very heavy crowd of party patrons, the crowd started dwindling down around 1:30 in the morning. It was fall of the year in 1976 and a lot of the gentleman patrons were hunters and did not stay out to awfully late for getting up at sunrise. Tim, was beginning to sweep up and was putting chairs on top if tables. Bonnie, was doing her normal checking of the basics of tending to late patrons there were but a small handful still left in the club. Clyde, was napping on the end of the long bar, wanting to hurry up to make the drive to the countryside. He had so much attention that night he was warn slap dab out. I was cleaning up behind the bar, washing dishes and started to take out the trash to the dumpster. This was several trips back and forth after a heavy evening like we had just experienced.
Opening the lid to the dumpster and depositing the bag into it, in the distance I could hear a loud rumble of a motor getting closer. before I even saw it, I knew from the sound of the engine it was a Harley Davidson motorcycle that badly needed a valve job. It gave a very distinct rumble thru the exhaust with the port valve not closing off each time. Somebody needed to due some overdue maintenance on their bike I thought and started back into the club. Just as I reached for the door, the Harley and it's rider pulled into the parking lot. I wet on in inside and reached for another sack of trash behind the bar. Standing up I was greeted by a young man who looked to be in his early 30's and he was standing right at me leaning up against the bar reading the attitude sign over the bar. This young man's features stood out very distinctly. He was very,very tall like 6' 8' inches or 9. very broad across the shoulders, had biker leathers on and heavy boots. He was beginning to bald on top, but had long hair in the back pulled into a pony tail tied into a knot and sported a very heavy red tint beard, moustache ...
he had old sun tan lines that gave a leathery look to his red skin, wore his pants high to the waist line, had steel sky blue eyes and no neck for he was so broad. With stove pipe arms, one could guess he had at one time been in a weight lifting competition somewhere, but thething I noticed the most was the tattoos running down his cheeks under the corners of each eye. Why in the world would anyone have tear drops tattooed under each eye as if he was weeping?
He looked me cold in my eyes and ordered a Texas long necker and then glanced back to the sign over the bar about attitudes. I told him all we had was draft beer and we were getting ready to close after a heavy night, we were tired and getting ready to close down early. He popped off something like we use to not close at all. I told him that was the old place and we did not stay open all night and into the next day. Reaching for the freezer I pulled out a frozen mug and pumped him a draft beer and said : "TWO BUCKS", you are welcome to drink your brew while we clean up. He glanced down at the end of the bar and stared at Clyde, with one swoop of the 12 ounce mug he swiftly downed it all in one swallow and announced another? not and order mind you but more of a command.
Now, I had always never judged someone by the way they dressed or bythe sound of their voice, but this young man when he spoke had a real high pitched voice and just did not match his hell of a frame. I knew instantly by a gutfeeling he came into the club , not to drink a cold beer but to look for trouble. I said another, he announced once more and I said back: "You have not paid for the first one yet, Rooster!" I could see the blood rush to his face, his pupils in those blue eyes got very big and black and then looked at Clyde again just a few feet from him. I looked and Clyde was sitting up looking at the man and Clyde's hair was bristling up. Puzzled I knew from watching the cat that he sensed trouble brewing. As I turned back to the biker with the red complexion I was met with a blindsided full force of a massive fist right on the end of my nose...KA-POW, and down I went behind the bar, seeing more stars than i thought was possible in the heavens. i felt like I had ben hit with a club, I was weak kneed from the blinsided puch and knew i was bleeding very heavy from the nose, blood dripped heavy from my face as i tried to get composure on my knees behind the bar.
Clyde, let out a scream as the man bak-slapped him off the bar, announcing I HATE CATS. The force of the slap had sent Clyde flying thru the air landing on a table of late patrons. TIM, dropped his broom and came to the rescue. Now, I had beenright beside and in front or backup many times with TIM and had complete confidence in Tim to get this situation under control, quickly. Trying to get my head adjusted to get back on my feet I could hear 2 grown grizzly bears going at it tobeat thunder as i arose unsteadily behing the cheerywood bar. Tim had the man in ahead lock heading for thedoor with him dragging hisbig body and how he got out of it and got lucky and placed a downward fist on the end of Tim's jaw line and out like light switch being threw down went TIM. Bonnie in all her spendor pitched in and cracked a glass beer mug over the back of his head, the man stumbled, regained and with a swoop of his massive arms back slapped her across the face and reached to pick her up and go again, when the 2 men patrons mounted his big ugly frame and started working him over with punches....he handled these 2 grown men like they were twinkie sticks as i started not around the bar but over it, and he very swiftly caught me this time right between the eyes and down i went again in a puddle of my own blood behind the bar. with eyes swelling and tasting my own blood dripping from my nose, my inner voice kicked into high gear. the first punch was sucker blindsided punch , but this one I saw coming and was too weak to get out of the way or duck. Bad situation we got here sonny boy, go for the panic button.
On my knees behind the counter it looked like a hog had been stuck from the massive amounts of blood and once again here came the stars floating in my eye sight, and there it was....lying there quietly, the old hickory club from the old place a few years before. I reached and got it in both hands, did not announce i was coming over the bar, just exploded from the adrenalin rush of my eyes swelling shut very quickly. the man had his back to me as i went over the bar, for he was reaching for an out cold TIM, to finish him off or to due more injury . as he bent over I went to both knees and swung with all my force i had left into his right knee and "CRACK", you could hear the cartilage n the knee tear loose from the bone. YEEeeeeeeeeeeeeee, he screamed and went to his good knee left right n front of me face to face, ....he had the most surprised look on his face as he saw me draw back totake him out and he fell and rolled on to his back, holding his busted knee with both hands.
I looked at the young man and told him., "SON, u want to spit, go to the door".....and without caution I cocked and loaded the hickoy club and as if i was spliting a piece of red oak firewood with a splitting maul came full force down upon his upper lip....Lights out, say goodnight ---did I mean to kill him? I meant to stop that fight!fight over?
Bonnie had reached and hit the panic button with out me or Tim noticing she had. We were both leaning aginst the bar looking dazed at each other at what had happened so quickly and were amazed at how strong this man was. Tim was coming around more quickly than i was for the nose was still gushing heavy amounts of blood and Bonnie had started applying ice to it with my head tilted back. the men patrons were being attended to by thier dates and here come ole Clyde up on the bar to his friend to console him.
How, it happened to this day i just will never know but inClyde's eyes as he neared me I saw in those cat eyes, the burly red haired complexion of a man getting to his good knee and standing up. Bonnie, screamed he is on his feet and i reached for the hickory club, to find it had rolled on its own accord down to the other end of the bar. Clyde attacked with full vengance as if a panther going for a meal, landing right on the man's face and digging in with 25 claws, doing immesnely damage. YEeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, the man screamed and went to twisting round and round. Tim went in and once again the grizly bears were at it, as i reached for the hickory club to only find myself in a bear hugfrom behind from the still screaming red headed young man. The club was just out of reach.
he kicked Tim in the groin and down went Tim and had me twisted around in his massive arms, dragging the wounded knee and i just crawled right over the top of his head and as i saw going over, something i will never forget...the lable in his shirt said "Loyd's of Waco" as I went for his left ear and with what strength i had left took a big bite in my mouth and held on for dear life for the ride was fixing tobegin, and out the door we went into the parking lot, draggin his bad knee as he stumbled what seemed like 50 lifetimes flashing before my eyes, I tried to blink and could not for the swelling..but it was not lifetimes flashing-- it was squad cars, many of them allready there and more arriving at the moment......first words i heard was, Jay, Jay, open your mouth and let go off the man's ear, we have him handcuffed. I had allways been told that right before death all of your life goes thru your eyes and you see every thing you did in life both good and bad.
I saw a young boy running thru the forrests of southern arkansaswith his coon hunting dogs, fishing lakes and rivers, watching glorious sunsets, spendor sunrises.. i saw my dear old poppy showing me how to clip a squirell right behind the ear with single report of the ol 22 . I saw my mommaw on her knees praying and no sir Billy bob I was not fixing to let go of his ear and with one more burst of energy I cleanly cut a notch of the top of it from his head with my front teeth and sudden burst of new energy
YEeeeeeeiiiiiiiiiii, he screamed as Steve placed him in his squad car, handcuffed and said: Dat sumufabit## bites me ear off, wahhhhhhhhhhhh and went to crying like a big ole sissy !
end of fight.....end of story? well, not quite
to be cont'd
pic inclosed was 1979 I had just had the 3rd surgery to reconstruct my upper and bottom lip and transplant the front 4 teeth that the redheaded idiot took away from me.....
the lady standing next to me was a bad mistake
This was one of my all time favorite storys.
