MY UNOFFICIAL HISTORY OF ROCK 'N ROLL: Introduction Part 1

There are hundreds of books and thousands of Internet sites that chronicle the history of Rock 'N Roll. My Posts will deal with the subject from a PCHS student's perspective. The Class of 1959 experienced the birth and the Golden 1955-1959 years.  As I have remarked before: "I was there when it happened and I guess I oughta know."


This introduction starts in a plain, unpainted,cinder block hamburger joint in McKinney, KY. The only teen hangout in McKinney was owned by a second cousin (Dad's side) and a first cousin (Mom's side) was one of his best customers. My first cousin provided this account of what happened when Bill Haley's "Rock Around The Clock" 45RPM was placed on the nickle a play Juke Box. 


By the second day, the record was no longer intelligible! The groves were worn smooth. This is a real example of the impact of a single song upon the youth of America. Rock 'N Roll was born (Most music historians agree with my assertion.) Alan Freed an East Coast DJ, coined the term "Rock 'N Roll." (More about Freed in later Posts)


I heard the song a couple of times on the radio before attending a 4-H Youth Camp in Versailles, IN. The night time recreation was dancing (if you can call it that) to Bill Haley's "Rock Around The Clock." The song was electric, exciting and seemed to say how we felt but could never tell anyone, especially, our parents. 


In addition to the mesmerizing impact of the song, I was smitten by a pretty, very, very pretty girl from a North Vernon 4-H Club. She had a heart-melting smile, dark brown eyes that seemed to twinkle when she winked, and an inviting low voice that resonated on my heart strings. She had the grace and charm every 14 year old boy dreamed about. Did I mention she was several years ahead of her female peers in physical development? Hollywood can put a glow around the leading lady. For one magical week,I saw the glow around her!


After camp was over, we exchanged a few letters and both of us turned Life's page and continued our road to adulthood.



 The next part of the Introduction will answer the question: "Why did Rock 'N Roll burst upon the American scene during our PCHS days?"

east

east

NOW THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKN' ABOUT !!!!!!!!!

Class of 1959,You Are the Greatest !!!!!!!!!!!


Thanks to all for the response to my plea for help.


Hello, to all new readers. You can jump into the Posts anywhere or you can start at the oldest and read forward. As I have mentioned in other Posts, the Blog is in a very large way autobiographical. The topics covered are many and varied. 


We have a saying out here on the Prairie: "Come see us; we'll treat you so many different ways you are bound to like one of them!!!!! The Blog is in that same spirit.


NOTE: THE FIRST PERSON TO EMAIL ME AT ke5gk@sbcglobal.net WILL RECEIVE A NICE OKLAHOMA GIFT. I' LL EMAIL THE WINNER BACK AND GET A MAILING ADDRESS.


There is an old Ernest Tubb recording that expresses my gratitude: "Thanks, Thanks A Lot." 

HELP! HELP! I NEED YOUR HELP! NEED MORE BLOG VISITORS!

I NEED YOUR HELP! 


Please email; telephone; text message; Skype; Messenger; snail mail;smoke signals; beat the jungle drums; flash a mirror; semaphore flag; telegraph; or even put a note in an empty Nehi orange pop bottle, seal with a cork, and drop in into the Graham Creek and let others know of our Blog. Otherwise, I may be forced to start permitting advertisement on the Blog to keep it on the Internet.


I certainly do not want to be known as the classmate who hustled "Lose 40 ponds before 4pm!", "Buy secondhand Gold and save",", "Get your PhD in a weekend", "Wake up feeling 17 again." etc. etc.


Please help me maintain my dignity and honor by getting the word out about 


www.hallpasspchs1959.blogspot.com


Thank you again for helping me.


The Roots of Rock N Roll will start very soon!

SACKY----The Rest of The Story!!!!!!!

Origins of some nicknames are easy to decipher: "Shorty", "Too Tall", "Slim", or "Tubby". Others may relate to an occupation: "Cookie", "Sparky", or "Marshall Dillon".  Others may identify where you are from: "Tex", "Okie", 'Buckeye',or even "Hoosier".


Yet, there are others that no one seems to know where they came from: I had an uncle who was nicknamed "Pos". Another uncle was nicknamed "Wash" (pronounced "Warsh" in KY). I have yet to find a family member that can tell me where those nicknames came from or even how they apply to two of my late uncles.


This Post will at long last disclose why Jay Vaught was called "Sacky"; Dale Vaught was called "Sacky II,  (check out the 1959 edition of the Pirazet yearbook) and Gary Vaught was called "Sacky III".


This is a true story. I was there when it happened and I guess I ought to know.


It was an autumn  (I think in 1957) Saturday morning and Russell Vaught, Jay, Dale, Gary, and yours truly were picking apples in the Weston Bottoms to make cider. (I had spent Friday night at their home.)


Stay with me on this!


Gary, because he was smallest and could get out on the small limbs, had a burlap feed sack equipped with a short rope that attached to the sack and could be worn around Gary's neck, was in the tree. Russell, Jay, Dale and I were picking up apples from the ground and placing the apples in a large bucket.


The story now takes a not-to-unexpected turn!  Dale and I would pick up an apple from the ground and throw the apples at Gary in the tree.
All the while he was dodging the apples coming up from the ground and could make little progress toward picking the apples in the tree!


Russell issued several warnings to Dale and I and we just kept the apple missiles firing! Russell's voice continue to rise with each new warning. I think he even threatened to close the whole cider making adventure down and go home!


Something had to be done and quick. Jay, who probably would never had been a finalist on Jeopardy, saved the entire disaster by yelling, "Give me that G** D*** sack and I'll put it on my head and pick those apples!" Jay, who was really a funny guy and always asked about me when he talked to my folks.


For a split second, I imagined Jay putting the entire burlap sack on his head and trying to pick apples. I could not refrain from immediately blurting out, " Gary, let Sacky put that sack on his head and pick those apples." The nickname was born and we used it the rest of the apple picking morning.


The cider was made, Dale took me home, and he went with my folks to Madison to watch the boat races. (That was long before they moved the races to the 4th of July.) We had a gallon of the very fresh cider---more like apple juice---that we took to the races.  We have a phrase in Oklahoma to describe my condition the next day----I had the Green Apple Quickstep!


It was an easy transition from Sacky to Dale (Sacky II,) to Gary (Sacky III). Most of the people in Jennings Co called Jay by his nickname. Only those at PCHS knew of Sacky II and Sacky III.


For better or worse, I am responsible for the Sacky nickname. Gee, I feel better after over 50 years finally getting that off my chest!  


(I HAVE MADE A RARE EXCEPTION OF USING ACTUAL NAMES BECAUSE THE POST WOULD BE MEANINGLESS WITHOUT THEM. ALSO, THE PERSONS NAMED ARE MERELY VICTIMS OF AN OVER ZEALOUS NICKNAMER---me)














  

THE GIFT OF LIFE

Recently, I was looking for some information and ran across the program sent to me from last year's PCHS Reunion.I reviewed with considerable interest the ever lengthening list of deceased classmates. Amazingly, I recognize more and more names each year. Each recognized name brought a flood of memories.


Death can come slowly or very fast. A very famous attorney in Shawnee fell in his home last night and in a few short hours was pronounced dead. As a pastor, I spend a portion of my time with death and those who survive. After the funerals, people reestablished relationships with family and friends that had languished for many  years. However, life often  goes back to the pre-funeral mode.


What can we do?


a.Thank God for Family and Friends
b.Live each day as if it were your last---someday it will be
c. Be creative in finding new friends
d.Find a good Bible teaching, Bible preaching, people reaching church.
e. Call, write or email a good friend today


 LIFE! Let's Celebrate It!

AN AMERICAN SPEAKS--My Personal Passion

Regular readers of this Blog will testify I have taken a political preference stance on any of the current issues facing our nation.
What follows IS NOT political--its a CONSTITUTIONAL issue.
I sent this earlier to many of my email contacts. It is now provided to all Blog readers. 

DOCTOR, DOCTOR. IT HURTS WHEN I HIT MY HEAD WITH A HAMMER!

The silly doctor joke is to remind us that doctors are human.


1. You may have heard about the fellow with a very major memory problem. He went to a shrink and told him his plight. The doctor asked, "How long have you had this problem of a poor memory?"  The patient said, "Could you repeat the question?"


2.What do you call a med student who graduates last in his class?  DOCTOR.


3. There are so many doctor shows on TV the only channel I can receive is 98.6!


4.What do you call two doctors? A paradox!


5. Two doctors were arguing in the OR on how to do the surgery. The patient was very much awake and nearly had a heart attack when he heard on say, "OK, we' ll do it your way but I bet the autopsy will prove me right."


6. This is no joke: You can book ER appointments on line! 

MR. WEISS SHOWED US THE FUTURE IN 1958!

In our junior year Mr. Weiss made some rather startling projections about the future. Many of us, in 1958, thought he was way off the mark. Turns out he was 100 percent correct!


1. Men would start wearing their hair long like women. This probably came true in the 1960's. Many of the fellows, me included, thought this  was nuts.A current personal note: One my deacons and his wife are products of the 60's culture. He has long hear and a beard. He is without doubt the most dynamic and sincere Christian I have ever met. I think Jesus may have looked like this wonderful friend and fellow worker in the vineyard. Another personal note: I wish I had some hair! Maybe I am being punished for laughing at Principal Ira Whitaker!


2. Men will use bags, like brief cases, with long straps---like women. Ever see a guy with a laptop computer on a long strap over his shoulder? All kinds of luggage bags also. I don't know how he knew the future. But he was spot on.


3. The line of distinction between men and women would become blurred. This has happened in many areas of life: Women in combat, sports, politics, and many, many others. Our youngest daughter was a real star in basketball and volleyball. How about stay at home Dads? More and more men are entering nursing.


Mr Weiss was a real teacher and could identify with students. I heard he has written a book about cooking German food. He was special to all of us.


One of our classmates was introduced to her future husband by Mr. Weiss!

PERFECT SCHEMES LEAD TO SHATTERED DREAMS

This is a long Post and you may want to share with friends and family. (How's that for uncontrolled vanity!)

PERFECT SCHEMES LEAD TO SHATTERED DREAMS 

Case in point:  Our credit union advertised for weeks that because of the success of the credit union in 2011, a special gift would be given to the first 500 members who were in line New Years Eve. The gifts were to be awarded at midnight.

Like so many others, I braved a cold blowing rain and was in line at 6:17pm. In fact, I was 7^th in line. Speculation was rampant as to what the gift might be. A Gold Coin?  A Trip to Disney  World? Season Tickets to OU Football games? Maybe a year’s worth of free gas? A laptop computer? The longer we were in line the bigger the gifts became. One WAG, who recently had his 1989 Olds REPOed by the credit union, was sure we were all to be given new cars (ala Oprah).

The speculation and merriment stopped around 8:30pm. Several members couldn’t take it any longer and went home. We had to call 911 REACT Emergency to haul off to the ER about 25 members who had not dressed properly and were suffering acute hypothermia. As members dropped out of line, all behind them cheered as they moved up.

Earlier smiles turned to tightly pressed lips in an effort to control chattering teeth. Even though I am a Southern Baptist , I couldn’t help but to start dancing in a vain attempt to keep warm. Some thought I was a Native American doing a stop raining dance!

At 10pm, all talk of gifts had ceased. Survival was now a contest of wills. Some members standing near me tore unused deposit slips from their credit union checkbook and hastily penned make shift Wills. A few started repeating the Lord’s Prayer and the 23^rd Psalm. Some broke out into singing “Amazing Grace.” The un-churched members sang a medley of CW songs: “I got friends in low places,” “The night the bottle let me down,” and “Okie from Muskogee.” The mixture of off tune religious and CW hits sounded a lot like hogs who just lost their gender!

I looked at my Casio so many times I was certain it was broken. Some members began to confess sin and unlawful behavior to total strangers. The long line which stretched down the sidewalk from the credit union and disappeared after making a sharp right turn, became suddenly silent as the credit union manager arrived in his new Lexus and hastily entered the building and turned on the lights. It was now 11:47pm.

Almost immediately, a Wells Fargo armored truck pulled up and parked at the rear entrance of the credit union and started unloading its contents. The prophecy of Gold Coins was beginning to look better all the time.

Just when you thought this cold, weird night was about over, things quickly picked up speed but lost altitude! An unscheduled Bud delivery truck slowed to see what was going on. He was on his way to an all night convenience store—Bad Mistake!

The frightened driver was pulled from his truck and the door keys quickly pilfered from his pocket. The back door was raised as if by magic and many, many suitcases of beer disappeared. I saw a group of card carrying, Medicare users who were old, blue haired widows chugging beer for the very first time. Tee- totalers tossed morality aside in favor of surviving. The popping of pull tabs resembled a pond full of bull frogs all with COPD!

Out of nowhere six black and whites, sirens blaring, wig wag lights dancing, slid to a controlled stop. It reminded me of the Lucky Lee Lott Dare Devil drivers in the 1950’s. They exited with 9mm’s drawn. Silence returned and the Bud driver completed a report but could not ID any of the thieves. He went on his way to the all night convenience store.

One officer got on his PA and ordered everyone to disperse. No way! We had spent several hours trying to stay alive and big prizes were just around the corner. Many beer cans pelted the police cars. Most of the can throwers had never been in trouble with the law but merely wanted to get arrested just to get into the back seat of a warm cruiser.

I looked again at my $16 Wal-Mart watch and saw it was 11:58pm. The line had shrunk and now seemed to compress like a new Slinky. Members were directed to march past the drive-in window to get our prizes. I was now third in line.

There are jokes; silly jokes; bad jokes; practical jokes and even cruel jokes.  What happened next was off the joke seismograph. The first two members were speechless as they were greeted by the manager and given a can of black-eyed peas! I saw what was going down and yelled as loud as I could that the prize was a can of black-eyed peas! One obvious high  school dropout just behind me yelled, “This ain’t no credit union; it’s a discredit union. We’ve been “dissed”! The chant started low and slow: “Discredit, Discredit, Discredit.”

The police could see this unruly crowd was just 17 seconds from becoming a dangerous mob. Several warning shots were fired into the air and more sirens in the distance could be heard approaching the credit union. The manager was forced to seek safety in the Wells Fargo truck which fortunately had remained at the credit union. The members ran in all directions. The police cars formed a safety escort for the truck.

On my way to my car I met a little old lady from the nearby low rent apartment complex pushing a rusty, squeaky shopping cart. I asked her where she was going so late. She said, “This is a dream come true; there must be 500 empty beer cans just waiting for me to pick up. Gosh, I’ll have enough money to pay next month’s rent.” A sharp pang of guilt nearly decked me. I was there for greed, she there for need.

As we parted, she said in a cheery and grateful voice, “Happy New Year mister and God BlessYou.” My frozen face and half frozen heart could only reply “Same to you”. I guess I left my handkerchief in the car.

Note: Black-eyed peas, cornbread, and mustard greens are a tradional Oklahoma New Years Dinner. The credit union did pass out the cans about Christmas time. Everything else in this Post is a product of my imagination and is pure fiction. Sure hope you liked it.

Glenn C. Peck

"CAN WE TALK?' --Strength for the Journey

I am sometimes asked, "How are you able to sit by the bedside of a dying person, console families, and conduct funeral services?" I estimate that I have conducted about 250 funeral services in my 31 years of ordained Christian ministry So far in the first 2 months of 2012, I have conducted 4 services. One was for a very, very close friend.


Like the Apostle Paul, "...I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.." The question that follows is how I be strengthened by Christ?

WE WUZ ROBBED!! But what did you expect?

This happened our senior year. Even in our naive innocence we learned that things do not always turn out as you expect !


An old friend of Mr. Harris came to PCHS, I think without any advance warning, to put on a one-man show for the students.


After coughing up 20 cents, we went to the gym and we sat with anxious anticipation for the show to begin. Would we see a magic act? Would he pull a rabbit out of a hat?


The fellow looked older than Mr. Harris, and that is saying something. Was he one of the last relics of Vaudeville? Would he do a soft shoe dance routine while playing Swanee River on a harmonica? 


Ed Sullivan often featured a gent who did hand shadows of famous people on a screen. Perhaps this unusual act was in store for the entertainment starved youth of PCHS.


Our questions were soon answered when he began to quote poetry from Indiana's own James Whitcome Riley. The only poem I remember was the immortal--"When the frost is on the pumpkin."
Credit where it is due: His voice and diction reflected hours of practice. I suspect he was a retired Literature teacher and this was a quick way to turn a buck. Maybe Mr. Harris owed him something.


It is hard to project your own  disappointment upon others. Yet, as I looked around, it appeared to me and others, their facial expressions seemed to reflect a collective mirror that seemed to say--"We wuz robbed!" 


Perhaps part of my skepticism at age 17 remains. Did this fellow and Mr. Harris split the take?

YOU GOTTA HAND IT TO ME---WARTS AND ALL!

1. From about the fifth grade to about the eighth grade I had a dime size planters wart on my right hand. It is probably a real miracle I didn't get an infection or blood poisoning by my amateur attempts to cut it out with a pocket knife and the family scissors. Without warning, the wart started to shrink and the remains just fell off. 


2. For several years my brother had a least 25 warts on both hands. My mother tried medicine, folk cures to no success. I cannot explain how I came upon this cure. Without our Mom's knowledge,  I poured an entire jug of Clorox into a bucket and talked my brother to soak his hand for about 2 minutes in the Clorox. His hands were snow white for a couple of days. But within ten days all of warts were gone! 


3. In the eighth grade I was reaching behind my desk and pulling on Steve Gilley's pants leg. He grew tired of it and had a very sharp pencil and jammed one of my fingers.  I still carry in my right hand the lead that broke off in my finger ! 


This way is off the purpose of the Blog. However, it is part of my school days.

WATCH FOR IT !

It'll Be Here Soon !!!!!


Rock n Roll With A Very Personal Perspective !


I Was There When It Happened And I Guess I Ought To Know!   ----Country Gospel Song in Early 1950's