Dad stories!
Tonight dad regaled me with a couple of interesting stories. My grampa was a guitarist back in the day. Grampa played in a band until the "rock star" (read: "country star") life caught up to him and he sort of became a victim of his various addictions, alcohol being the most virulent one. Grampa told me that he had played in the Grand Ol' Opry, but neither dad nor I know if it's really true.
The story is, though, that he hitchhiked down to Nashville at the age of 16. This would've been in '45-'46. (Ironic that dad left home at the same age. Interesting stories about that too.) He started playing in Nashville and apparently played with Minnie Pearl at some point? That's all the info we really know I guess, but it's kind of cool. A couple of my classmates in Spanish were somewhat impressed when I told them last week, haha.
Before that, my great-grandfather apparently died during the coal mine union riots that were going on in Kentucky back then. The story is that while great-grampa was dying of a gunshot wound at the hospital, my great uncle was being born a few rooms down. XD Maybe my grampa just had a flair for the dramatic when he told these tales, but from what I remember of him, he wasn't so much a guy for hyperbole. So maybe they're true.
Shifting forward a lot farther to my dad's youth... apparently my grampa was performing at a bar down on Franklin street. Dad was throwing a huge tantrum because he wanted to go, so my great uncle Leroy took him and my aunt Darlene (dad's twin) down to watch. This was in the early 60s I think so I dunno, maybe they let kids in bars back then? XD
Well, apparently some guy tried to dance with gramma, so grampa threw down and the whole band just got into this huge drunken brawl with the dude and whoever else. They ended up clearing out the whole bar and dad/Aunt Darlene were ushered into the kitchen.
When shit finally settled down, dad says he remembers coming out and just walking all over the dance floor, picking up shit people had left behind in their haste to GTFO. Combs, pins, change, whatever XD
Mostly I'm recording this for my own later reference haha. I love hearing about stuff like this... Someday it could always make a nice comic plot or something...
The story is, though, that he hitchhiked down to Nashville at the age of 16. This would've been in '45-'46. (Ironic that dad left home at the same age. Interesting stories about that too.) He started playing in Nashville and apparently played with Minnie Pearl at some point? That's all the info we really know I guess, but it's kind of cool. A couple of my classmates in Spanish were somewhat impressed when I told them last week, haha.
Before that, my great-grandfather apparently died during the coal mine union riots that were going on in Kentucky back then. The story is that while great-grampa was dying of a gunshot wound at the hospital, my great uncle was being born a few rooms down. XD Maybe my grampa just had a flair for the dramatic when he told these tales, but from what I remember of him, he wasn't so much a guy for hyperbole. So maybe they're true.
Shifting forward a lot farther to my dad's youth... apparently my grampa was performing at a bar down on Franklin street. Dad was throwing a huge tantrum because he wanted to go, so my great uncle Leroy took him and my aunt Darlene (dad's twin) down to watch. This was in the early 60s I think so I dunno, maybe they let kids in bars back then? XD
Well, apparently some guy tried to dance with gramma, so grampa threw down and the whole band just got into this huge drunken brawl with the dude and whoever else. They ended up clearing out the whole bar and dad/Aunt Darlene were ushered into the kitchen.
When shit finally settled down, dad says he remembers coming out and just walking all over the dance floor, picking up shit people had left behind in their haste to GTFO. Combs, pins, change, whatever XD
Mostly I'm recording this for my own later reference haha. I love hearing about stuff like this... Someday it could always make a nice comic plot or something...