I Hear That Train a-Coming

You know how sometimes things happen and you say to yourself, "I should have stayed in bed?" Well, that is how my brother, Mark, must have felt Monday morning as he was on his way to work in Somerset. Here is the rest of the story in his own words:

"I decided to take the new 'southern part' of the by-pass, which is only halfway done. I haven't been taking it cause it is a dangerous road with train tracks. I almost got to the end of the new road, where it changes to anther by-pass that leads to work and I-75. As I approached the train tracks, I noticed [the] flashing lights of police cars, fire trucks and an ambulance. On the other side of the tracks, [there] was a wreck. So, I went over the tracks then had to stop. I had to wait about 30 minutes for the ambulance to leave. In order for it to get out, I had to back up. I ended up right in the middle of the railroad track. Right at that moment, the train warning lights came on and then I heard the whistle. I looked to my right and saw nothing. As I looked to my left, I saw my worst nightmare coming true. Around the bend, came the train barreling toward me. I was stuck with cars behind me and the ambulance in front of me. You can imagine the panic I felt. Seconds seemed like minutes and then, finally, the ambulance driver realized what was about to happen and floored it. Just as I was pulled off the track, I looked in my rearview mirror and saw the train going by. As soon as I made it to the by-pass, I pulled over and started throwing up. Needless to say I didn't make it to work. As for the train tracks....I won't be going that way again."

Faith Interrupted

There are times in my life when my faith, which should be prevalant in certain situations that arise, gets interrupted, when out of nowhere fear and doubt begin to creep in and take over where faith once was. Even though it might come later than sooner, it is good to be reminded that, even when fear and doubt are running rampant, God is still with me, and He is still in control. It is when I get that reminder that my faith starts to strengthen once again.

His strength is perfect when our strength is gone
He’ll carry us when we can’t carry on
Raised in His power, the weak become strong
His strength is perfect, His strength is perfect

In The News...

My mom has always made it a habit of purchasing a copy of the local newspaper each week. She's been doing that ever since I can remember. Even now, as we kids have grown up and gone our seperate ways, she still brings me a copy of the local newspaper each week.

Growing up, one of my favorite things to do was to read the 'community news' section of the newspaper, where people from the different communities within the county would submit the latest news from their community each week. It was a great way of finding out who was sick, who had died, who had gotten married and who had been visiting whom. I loved reading the January 7, 1892 edition of the Albany Banner online. In it, there was the following submission from the Old Bethel community...

"According to rumor, they had a funny time at Gaunt creek Christmas, especially at Mr. M.B. Kennedy's. A Morehead Jones and Thomas Cross got into a difficulty there and had a hand to hand fight. They were under the influence of liquor at the time. Knives were used and blood flowed freely for a while. They were cut and mangled considerably and have scars that will last them a lifetime. Mr. Kennedy may expect such fun as that occasionally as he is "stilling" at present."

And, then there was this entry in the same edition:

Milton Parson married a daughter of Joseph Phelps on Obey river about 1874. During the spring of 1891, Milton just up and left his wife and their seven children and moved to Texas. There was no divorce, no marriage anullment of any kind. He just left. About the first of December that year, he married a Miss Hunter of Moody, Texas, but it seems that while on his honeymoon, he was taken suddenly ill and died the next morning! Two doctors pronounced his cause of death as congestion, while others said it was poison.

The Albany Banner, January 7, 1892

The New Era, November 25, 1920

The Namesakes

Abraham Lincoln was born 200 years ago today, February 12, 1809. Everyone knows how, as America's sixteenth President, Abraham Lincoln successfully led his country through its greatest crisis, the Civil War, only to be assassinated less than a month after the war’s end. But, did you know that George Washington was Abraham Lincoln's uncle? and that I was born in the home where George Washington once lived?

It's true! Of course, the Abraham Lincoln I am referring to was Abraham Lincoln Boles, and the George Washington I am referring to was indeed Abraham's uncle, George Washington Boles.

Nowadays, we have movie stars and sports stars to name our children after, but back in the early days when America was being formed, what proud parent wouldn't have wanted to name their child after a war hero, or someone who had blazed a trail to help get this country started?

Abraham Lincoln Boles, better known as 'Link,' pictured above, attended the Alpine Institute of higher learning in Overton County, Tennessee, floated logs down river from the virgin forests and even worked for a railroad company. Later in life, he sported a long, white beard and mustache, but had very little hair on top of his head. Some kids thought he was Santa Claus!

It is true that George Washington Boles supported President Abraham Lincoln. In the 1935 Clinton Co. Homecoming and Centennial Celebration souvenir program, George was recognized as being a veteran of the Civil War. His uncle was Tinker Dave Beaty, and George and his father, Captain John Boles, were members of Tinker Dave's independent scouts, who protected Fentress County from Confederate guerillas like Champ Ferguson. In the program, George was quoted as saying "I always made the Rebels run!" He also said he 'remembers voting for Abraham Lincoln for President!'

Oh, I almost forgot.......George's home in Albany later became Maple Hill Hospital, the place where I was born!

George Washington Boles, left, and his nephew, Abraham Lincoln Boles, pictured here in their earlier days. George died on February 5, 1941, while Link passed away on December 12, 1954.

*Note: Thanks to my cousin, Jo Ann Shoemaker, for supplying the photos and background information for Link Boles. If I hadn't started this blog, I would have never met her.

Rave On!

Last Tuesday, February 3rd, was the 50th anniversary of the death of Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and J.P. "Big Bopper" Richardson, who died in an airplane crash about ten miles from Clear Lake, Iowa in a cornfield owned by Albert Juhl. The trio were on a Winter Dance Party tour of the midwest, and in the midst of a crazy winter storm, made even crazier by one broken down tour bus after another, they decided to charter a plane to the next stop. Well, of course, they didn't make it. The event became known as "The Day The Music Died." We all know the music did not die, but I suppose at the time, it seemed like it surely was destined to.

Around four years ago, I started a MySpace page dedicated to Buddy Holly. I have been a huge fan of his ever since I bought The Complete Buddy Holly six cassette package back in 1979. Since then, I have met and photographed Tommy Allsup, who was on the road with Holly during that fateful tour, and who would have been on the plane had it not been for a coin toss he lost to Ritchie Valens. I've corresponded with the real Peggy Sue (Gerron), had a good friend get me the autographs of the Crickets: Jerry Allison, Joe Mauldin and Sonny Curtis, got to know Sonny West, who wrote Rave On and Oh Boy! and found out he knew my dad's friend, George Hudson, talked with Holly historian, Bill Griggs a few times, conversed with Kevin Montgomery, who's dad, Bob Montgomery, was the duet partner of Buddy Holly prior to the Crickets, talked with Billy Walker, who recorded in the same Clovis, New Mexico studio as did Buddy Holly, talked to Buddy's niece a few times, and was affiliated with buddyholly.com prior to its demise.

This past weekend, I added my 10,000th friend on that MySpace page. I don't remember the name of the person, or where they were from. I can get up to 30 or more friend requests per day, so it's not at all uncommon for me not to get to know each and every person on there, however, I do try to communicate when I can. When I set out to do the page, I never dreamed I would one day have over 10,000 friends on there. The neat thing is, I have never gone looking for any friends there. Each and every person has come to my page and wanted to be a part of it. When I made the page, it was only so we could have a place on MySpace to enjoy the music of Buddy Holly. It has always been a page for the fans! In another week, my page will have been visited by over 118,000 people from all over the world. I literally have people on my friends list from every corner of the globe. On the 50th anniversary of the plane crash last Tuesday the 3rd, I spoke to a guy who said he watched a program dedicated to Holly, Valens and Richardson on Bulgarian TV. That day, I received messages from such places as Italy and Japan. My favorite part was a guy in Lubbock, Texas who told me he was about to leave to go visit Buddy's gravesite there in Lubbock. Before he left, I requested he do me a favor, which he did. On Tuesday, Feb. 3rd, 2009, this man whom I don't even know, went to Buddy Holly's grave and said "Randy Speck says Thank You Buddy Holly!"

Rave on!

When I Needed Him Most

I was talking to a friend of mine online today and she wanted to know how does one go from being a back row Baptist to being a front row Baptist? I typed, "The Bible says all have sinned, and that means from the front row to the back row." Just then, the phone rang. It was June Spears calling to tell me about a new CD she and her husband, Bro. Larry Spears, had just released. She said Larry was on his way to the station to give me a copy to play on the air. After I hung up the phone, I turned back to my computer and continued to read the words my friend had typed: "No, that's not what I mean." "How do I feel good enough about myself to want to move from the back row to the front row?" That caused me to pause and think of an answer for her. As I thought about it, I typed "Hmmm." As I pressed send, I heard someone come through the front door. "I'll be right back," I typed, and walked into the lobby to see Bro. Larry standing there.

Now, Bro. Larry is a friend of mine. I have much respect and admiration for him and his wife, June. Her grandfather, Azle Edra Means, was the twin brother of my great-grandfather William Ezra Means, so that makes us fourth cousins. June and Larry love to sing for the Lord, and Larry has been a good and faithful pastor for many years. Many years ago, Larry and June recorded an album that contained ten songs, all written by Bro. Larry. There is a copy of it at the station. After greeting Bro. Larry with a handshake, he presented me with a brand new CD version of this album, and I was more than delighted to get it.

After a brief, but very pleasant visit, Bro. Larry went on his way. As soon as he was gone, I put the CD in a player and began to get re-aquainted with the album. As the tracks begin to play, I quickly realized, again, that Bro. Larry is a great songwriter.

On track four, I found a beautiful song entitled, "When I Needed Him Most." As I listened to the words, I knew I had found an answer for my friend.

He saw the broken life that I tried to hide
He opened my wounded heart and looked deep inside
He picked up the pieces that I could never mend
And with beauty He put them back together again

Just when I needed someone to care
While others forsook me, my Saviour was there
In my weakest moment He held me so close
And oh how He loved me when I needed Him most

I had no future, ashamed of the past
A life scarred by failure, so empty and vast
Helpless and so lonely, I searched for a friend
But He filled every longing when I let Him in

Just when I needed someone to care
While others forsook me, my Saviour was there
In my weakest moment He held me so close
And oh how He loved me when I needed Him most

So, I told my friend, "Where God really wants to move you, is toward Him. He just wants you to want Him. It's not so much about where you physically sit in Church. God wants to move you from the back row to the front row, spiritually. Then it hit me. I said, "I bet there have been times in your life when you've found yourself wrestling with God over Him wanting you." She replied, "Yes." So I said, "He can cleanse every stain, ease every pain, mend the pieces of your broken heart, quieten every fear, dry every tear and fill every single longing you have. You just have to let Him!"

There have been times in my own life, even right now, that I have found myself in a place where if it were not for the Lord, I don't know how I could have ever made it. And, just like Bro. Larry wrote, "In my weakest moment He held me so close, and oh how He loved me when I needed Him most."

The Day The Music Died

Just after 1 a.m. February 3, 1959, a three-passenger Beechcraft Bonanza went down about five miles northwest of Mason City Municipal Airport, near Clear Lake, Iowa. The plane crash took the lives of the pilot, Roger Peterson, and three musicians: Charles Hardin Holley, better known as Buddy Holly, 22; Ritchie Valens (originally Valenzuela), 17; and J.P. "The Big Bopper" Richardson, 28. It has become famous, in Don McLean's "American Pie" formulation, as "the day the music died." The event has echoed through rock 'n' roll history for 50 years, representing, if not the end of rock 'n' roll itself, the close of an era, the end of the first bloom of rock anarchy and innovation.

As they have for decades, visitors have been making the pilgrimage to the resort town of Clear Lake, Iowa, about 110 miles north of Des Moines. Tonight, the 50th anniversary of the trio's deaths, the city's Surf Ballroom and Museum will host a huge concert in conjunction with the Rock Hall. Expected are luminaries including Graham Nash, whose 1960s British band was named for Holly; the Smithereens' Pat DiNizio, who wrote the song "Maria Elena" for Holly's widow; Los Lobos, who followed in the Hispanic-rock tradition begun by Valens; Texans Delbert McClinton and Joe Ely; and Tommy Allsup, who was a Holly sideman at the show 50 years ago.

The Surf, which was refurbished in 1995, includes the original stage, the telephone where Holly and Valens placed their last calls, guitars, photographs and a green room with hundreds of autographs. They all pay tribute to the last show for three men. Holly, Valens and Richardson were part of the Winter Dance Party, a ramshackle tour that had started in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, and headed to small cities in Minnesota and Iowa. The tour, which also included Dion and the Belmonts and members of Holly's backing band, had lumbered along in subfreezing temperatures in unheated buses; two days earlier, one bus had stalled out on a lonely Wisconsin road. By the time the group reached Clear Lake, Holly in particular was ready to bolt. He booked the plane to fly to Fargo, North Dakota, where he planned to rest up and do laundry in advance of the group's next concert in Moorhead, Minnesota, across the state line.

Fargo native Bobby Vee, who remembers the tragedy vividly, acknowledges that he owes his career to the event. The then-high school sophomore named Robert Velline had come home for lunch and heard a local DJ talking about the Moorhead show. "I had a ticket for the show. I was a huge Buddy Holly fan and a huge rock 'n' roll fan," he recalled, adding that a major rock 'n' roll concert in the area was a rarity. "As I got closer into the kitchen ... [my mother and brother] were talking about this plane crash that had taken place. I couldn't put it all together."

But the promoter had decided to go on with the show and invited local bands to participate. Vee was in a garage band, and a friend suggested that they participate. The band, so loose it didn't even have a name, got on the bill. At the end of the night, a local booking agent approached them, and the Shadows (a name Vee came up with as they waited offstage) entered the music business. "It changed my life," Vee said. "I was a 15-year-old. I'd never experienced that kind of tragedy. I wasn't there to start a career -- I didn't know what a career was -- I was just there to help out, because that's what people do when there's a problem."

The trio's deaths coincided with a period of dark events in rock 'n' roll history, including Elvis Presley's induction into the Army, Jerry Lee Lewis' blacklisting, the record industry payola scandals and Chuck Berry's Mann Act conviction, not to mention the rise of manufactured teen idols such as Frankie Avalon and Fabian.

Partly thanks to McLean's lingering phrase, the ensuing years have been painted as a rock Dark Ages, rescued only by the Beatles' arrival in 1964 at the vanguard of the British Invasion.

What would have happened to the trio in that era is, of course, impossible to know. Valens, celebrated in the movie "La Bamba," was just starting his career and may have produced more hits; Richardson, a former DJ and radio program director who shot some rudimentary music videos, had shrewd entrepreneurial instincts. And then there's Holly, with his songwriting talent, his arranging abilities (he did the strings on "It Doesn't Matter Anymore," his last single) and sheer knowledge of music.

Maria Elena Holly, who watches over his legacy, says Buddy had big plans: He wanted to do albums with Ray Charles and Mahalia Jackson; he wanted to try film music; he wanted to do music publishing. "He was a multitasker in every way," she said. Monday, he and the others will simply be remembered at the ballroom where it's always February 2, 1959, and they're putting on another great show.

"When I come to these things, I don't think about [that] this is the last time I talked to him was from here. I think, I'm meeting the fans who have kept his memory alive," said Maria Elena Holly, who admits to getting "a little bit teary" when she hears "True Love Ways." "And that's really what Buddy wanted to happen with his music: He wanted people to enjoy the music, to listen to it and make them happy," she said. "And when I think of it that way, I think at least his dream came true."

from cnn.com

The Sparing

The date was Tuesday, March 19, 1963. 16-year-old Peggy Pickens was not at school that day. It was an unseasonably warm afternoon and it looked like it might rain. A dark cloud loomed on the horizon. Sure enough, along about two o'clock, a strong wind arose, accompanied by much hail and a torrential rainfall. Three-fourths of an inch of rain fell within five minutes. And then, the worst happened. Two tornadoes struck minutes apart. The first one hit West Albany, ripping the front off Ted Mills' Service Station on the Burkesville Road. Across the street, it brought down the Albany Drive-In Theatre screen. Several other businesses in or near West Albany were damaged, including Luther Harlan's Filling Station, Phillips Auto Sales and Wisdom Filling Station. Ferguson Feed Mill near Albany Cemetery was heavily damaged. A second tornado struck about the same time in the Static, Beaty and Duvall Valley communities. The Maupin United Methodist Church building was knocked six feet off its foundation. The home of Mr. and Mrs. Jack Beard was damaged. Mrs. Beard was knocked unconscious but was not badly injured. Back in town, several homes reported damage. The worst damage occurred at a residence at the end of Hopkins Street...601 Hopkins Street to be exact, two blocks south of Ted Mills' Service Station. In that apartment, which was above a garage, a grandmother, who was baby-sitting, had sought safety underneath the kitchen table. In one arm was her three-month-old grandson. In the other arm was his two brothers, ages 3 and 4, and sister, age 2.

I was the three-year-old.

There had been almost no advance notice. My grandmother would later say she looked out the window just in time to see a huge black cloud coming straight at us. There wasn't enough time to run downstairs and then over to the basement in her home. We were stuck there and my grandmother knew it. Seconds after climbing under the small kitchen table, she realized that with her arms busy holding her grandchildren, she had no way of holding onto the table. She shouted for my older brother and me to run to our parents' bedroom and get under the bed. But, just as quickly as we got there, we realized we were alone in a dark room, and for a couple of 3 and 4-year-old boys, it was too much to handle, so we went running back to my grandmother.

Knowing the tornado was headed straight for us, it must have been horrifying for her to see us come running back to the table. She only had time to put her arm around us when the tornado hit. I remember a noise that was so loud. The tornado was right on top of us. Only a small kitchen table separated us from possible injury or worse. With four children tucked away under her arms, my grandmother leaned forward enough so that we were sitting in a crouched position with our faces almost directly on the floor. Later, she would recall the haunting sound of hundreds of nails being ripped out of the wood as the roof came off. What a brave woman she was that day.

The roar of the tornado was defeaning. It was followed by an eerie calm, almost in slow motion, as we peeked out from under the table. Where the ceiling used to be, there was only the sky. Suddenly, it began to rain.

As we began to crawl out from under the table, the front door to the apartment burst open and in walked a strange girl. Her name, I would later discover, was Peggy Pickens. As fate would have it on that day, Peggy and a friend, who had skipped school with Peggy that day, were walking along Hopkins Street, near our home, when the tornado hit. 22-year-old Weldon Gibson's family lived behind our home. He ran to our home just seconds after the storm had passed. The stairway leading up to the apartment had been pulled loose from the side of the building and were badly beaten up by the storm. There was a big open space between the platform at the top and the door leading to the apartment. While Peggy's friend waited below, Peggy and Weldon cautiously, and courageously, began climbing up the loosened stairway. Step by step they climbed, higher and higher, until they finally reached the door to our apartment, and then, one by one, they carried us to safety below. The storm was over, and so was the nightmare it had brought to us, especially to my poor grandmother.

I do not know if there was ever any public acknowledgement of the brave rescue made by Peggy Pickens and Weldon Gibson that day, but I do know that my family has never forgotten it. To us, they will always remain our heroes.

Weldon Gibson is 73 years of age as of this writing (2015).

Peggy Jean Pickens Winningham passed away in 2009 at the age of 62. She was the daughter of Jonathan and Gleah Wright Pickens and wife of State Representative Leslie Winningham.

The Phenomenal Billy Powell

Billy Powell died today at his home in Florida. Around the age of eight, his mother signed him up for piano lessons, but his piano teacher said he did not need her. In high school, Billy met Leon Wilkerson, future bassist for Lynyrd Skynyrd. Powell was first hired as a roadie for the band. One day, in 1972, as the band was sitting up to play a school prom, after his duties were finished, Powell sat down at a piano in the corner of the stage and began playing his own version of Free Bird. Immediately, lead singer Ronnie Van Zant was impressed and invited Powell to join the group at its new keyboard player. The rest was history.

Three days after the release of its later release, Street Survivors, an airplane Lynyrd Skynyrd had chartered crashed into a forest near McComb, Mississippi. The crash killed Van Zant, guitarist Steve Gaines, his sister and backing vocalist Cassie Gaines and assistant road manager Dean Kilpatrick. Powell walked away from the crash with severe facial lacerations, almost completely losing his nose, but was otherwise relatively uninjured. He was the only member able to attend the funerals of his fallen bandmates.

During the time between the plane crash and the Lynyrd Skynyrd reunion in 1987, Powell briefly joined a Christian rock band named Vision. His keyboard playing was often spotlighted in Vision concerts. Powell also spoke during the concerts about his newly found faith in Jesus Christ. Lynyrd Skynyrd reunited in 1987. The band was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2006.

Just before 1:00 a.m. this morning, Billy Powell dialed 911 from his condo in Orange Park, Florida, complaining of difficulty in breathing. Paramedics found him unresponsive in his bedroom still holding the phone. He was pronounced dead at 1:52 a.m. The official cause was listed as a heart attack. Powell had a history of heart trouble.

Billy Powell was unduplicable. As a piano player myself, I drooled at his playing. In my mind, he was THE best! Skynyrd was known for its triple guitars, horns and female background singers, but Billy Powell was the icing on the cake. He caused Lynyrd Skynyrd to be 'Honky Tonk," because he was all that and more! His phenominal playing breathed an endless life into those songs that will remain forever etched in the hearts of southern rock lovers.

Fly Free as Bird Billy Powell! You earned your wings!

The Goat Did It!

This just in. Police in Nigeria are holding a goat on suspicion of attempted armed robbery.

Vigilantes took the black and white beast to the police saying it was an armed robber who had used black magic to transform himself into a goat to escape arrest after trying to steal a Mazda 323.

"The group of vigilante men came to report that while they were on patrol they saw some hoodlums attempting to rob a car. They pursued them. However one of them escaped while the other turned into a goat," Kwara state police spokesman Tunde Mohammed told Reuters by telephone.

"We cannot confirm the story, but the goat is in our custody. We cannot base our information on something mystical. It is something that has to be proved scientifically, that a human being turned into a goat," he said.

(This was in the news recently)

Basketball Blowout

The coach of a Texas high school basketball team that beat another team 100-0 was fired Sunday, the same day he sent an e-mail to a newspaper saying he will not apologize for a wide-margin victory when his girls played with honor and integrity. Administrators at Covenant School in Dallas Morning called the blowout against Dallas Academy shameful. A parent who attended the game said Covenant continued to make 3-pointers, even in the fourth quarter. She said spectators and an assistant coach were cheering wildly as their team edged closer to 100 points. A private christian school, Dallas Academy has eight girls on its varsity team and about 20 girls in its high school and is winless over the last four seasons. The academy specializes in teaching students struggling with learning differences.

This reminds me of an incident that happened many years ago, when girls basketball was just getting started in Kentucky and Clinton County defeated Pine Knot 102 to 6 at Albany. The teams were scheduled to play later in the season at Pine Knot. As the date for that game drew near, WANY received a letter from the Pine Knot principal, who refused to allow the radio station to broadcast the game unless it paid a fee, saying more or less, she would not allow her school and the team to be humiliated without a price. This infuriated the Voice of the Bulldogs, Sid Scott, who issued a response saying he 'would not pay to humiliate anyone.'


Dallas Girls School Coach Fired After Team Beats Another School 100 to 0