You Never Know What Google Will Turn Up

My daughter, Laura, was doing some Google searches a few months back. Just for fun she entered "Stone County Band," and found a link that ended up on E-Bay. The link was to an auction where she found and purchased a "Stone County Band" juke box label for a couple of songs released in 1981. Stone County Band probably doesn't mean much to you, but I bet you can relate to the story that goes along with it. Especially if you are late middle aged with memories of the glory days. Whether you are an ex-high school or college athlete, or an old 70's rocker like me, you probably have many memories of the good old days.

When Laura showed me what she had found, my mind went into a time warp of memories. I'm fifty-one years old with short grey hair, and a frame that tells the tale of being married to a woman who cooks very well. You wouldn't guess it now, but I used to be one hundred pounds lighter with black hair hanging down my back. What's more, I played bass guitar in the Stone County Band.

The Stone County Band, originating out of Kendallville, Indiana, played throughout the Tri-State area of Indiana, Michigan and Ohio, during the 1980's, and achieved moderate success with radio airplay. The band went out of business shortly after I left the group in 1987. At thirty-two years of age I came to the end of myself. I realized I was a condemned sinner who needed a Savior, and gave my life to Jesus Christ. The night club scene that I was involved in was not compatible with my faith walk with the Messiah and I quit.

Quitting the band was one of the hardest things I had ever done. The lead guitarist, Mickey Jo Slone, and I grew up together. My own brothers are quite a bit younger than I, so Mickey and I were as close as brothers could be. Together with Charlie McLain, our drummer, we traveled, performed, and socialized together for seven years. Leaving them was like leaving family. Besides that, we were a pretty good band!

Mickey and I spent nearly every waking minute together from 1975 until we both got married. Even then we continued to spend much of our time together. We simply opened it up to include our wives and children. But the early years were some of the greatest.

I can't discount those years we spent recording our own music and getting airplay on several radio stations around the country. But really the fun was when music wasn't so much a job as it was a delight. My love of music has not changed. But the idyllic early years were so fresh and exciting that they hold a special place in my memory.

Mickey and I played our first gig together in 1974, with me on bass, at Carroll High School, in Huntertown, Indiana. We were then called "Flint, A Rock and Roll Band." It was an after game dance and that was the beginning of a twelve year run together. I wasn't really the bass player in the band, but the band began to fall apart and I was drafted into that position.

We really only intended to play the Carroll High School gig, and another that was already booked, and then just call it quits. We went from a five piece band to a three piece band, with a bassist who had never really played bass in his life. But we figured it would suffice to get through the last two bookings. I spent days of memorizing songs and bass lines so that we could cover these two performances. I was twenty years old at the time. Mickey and our drummer at that time, Dave Poyser were nineteen. Dave played off and on with us for about six years.

As I said, we were fully prepared to get through the two gigs we had booked and disband. But that was not meant to be. It became perfectly clear to at the dance at Carroll High School that the band must continue. After all of the attempts to put a band with the right chemistry together, it seemed to be happening spontaneously. Dave's dad, "Shorty," always told us, "You're starting to gel, boys, you're starting to gel." Of course he said that with about a half case of beer in him, while pretending to play an old upright bass with strings missing. I'm sad to say that Shorty is no longer with us. In fact every one of the principle band members I played with, in Flint and Stone County Band, has lost both their parents. Of course we're all of grandparent age now, so it simply stands to reason.

I remember it like yesterday. We kicked off the set at Carroll High School with a Paul McCartney song entitled "Junior's Farm." I was very nervous since I had never played bass in a live performance. I had only been working for a couple of weeks on the list of about twenty-five songs we were to play that evening. But all of that was erased when the kids began to dance and they applauded, screamed and yelled when we finished the song. That first set was amazing! I remember looking at Mickey and seeing the same excitement in his eyes that I was feeling. The kids were digging it! It was like destiny being realized. When we broke for our intermission we were swamped by high school kids who wanted to talk to us and tell us how much they loved the band. We had never experienced that before. We decided before we went back on stage for the second set that we would have to continue with the band. We played three encores that night before the police officers, who were hired for security during the dance, forced the kids to leave! I believe, if my memory serves me, we were booked back for another dance at Carroll High School before we left that evening. The principal, Lee Cox, took a liking to us to the point that we would stop in his office just to say "hello" now and then. Mr. Cox always said, "You are as welcome as the flowers in May." That was a special time.

Well that began the unique chemistry that was generated when Mickey and I were on stage together. We went through four drummers along the way, but the glue was our relationship. Charlie, the last drummer we had, was the one who stayed the longest. He began with the band when he was not even old enough to be in the bar. He had to sit in the kitchen or go outside at intermission.

Now maybe you can understand what it meant to me to see that piece of Stone County Band memorabilia on an E-bay auction. It reminded me of so many things. I remember performing at Bixler Lake, Kendallville each Fourth of July. The hometown crowd was always fun to play to. We spent our days just "hanging out" until band practice and looking forward to the weekend when we would get to play "rock star." But it became more business-like before too long.

In 1977 we began to play with Arvil Bird, a championship fiddler and, then, first chair violinist of The Fort Wayne Philharmonic. That was our official foray into the genre of Country Rock Music. We suddenly became a union band playing nightclubs in the Fort Wayne and surrounding markets. That lasted until 1978 when Mickey and I went to work for D.J. Dangler as the D.J. Band. From 1978 to 1979 we opened up for many major artists in the Urban Cowboy movement, including; Mickey Gilley, Buck Owens, and Conway Twitty. We even had the opportunity to perform with some legends we had grown up listening to; the Wilburn Brothers. It was a great time. That's where we met our wives, who were best friends. Best friends ended up marrying best friends - a kind of storybook romance.

1980 until 1987 was the golden age of Stone County Band. During that time Mickey and I wrote and recorded two singles. We later added to that other new, original songs and released them on a cassette EP. We received airplay and some fan letters from people in other parts of the country, including Oklahoma and, strangely enough, Maine. During this time we both became fathers and grew up a lot. It was fun, but not the same as the early years. Pragmatism began to set in and every step became calculated in the attempt to "make it." But the elusive record deal, we constantly flirted with, never materialized.

Stone County Band was quite a ride. But like all good rides it came to an end. I never see Charlie or Dave any more. Dave lives in Minnesota and is probably a grandpa by now. Charlie is divorced with a sled load of kids and child support to pay. He lives alone, last I heard, down in Whitley County. I haven't spoken to him in so long I can't remember. Mickey and I see each other more frequently, but not as much as I'd like. I pray for him. I still love him just like my blood brothers. I'm not sure where he is with the LORD. One of my dreams is that he would get on fire for God and we could minister together with our music. I believe God would be pleased with that. HE gifted us and placed a special bond between us for a reason, and I don't think it was to cause young girls to swoon or to help sell whiskey in bars. The LORD knows. I simply continue to pray.

So, as you can see that juke box strip carried more with it than just a label for a 45 RPM record from 1981. I never, in my wildest dreams, thought that a piece of Stone County Band memorabilia would turn up in an auction on E-Bay. But that find was pretty special to me. Stone County Band is big part of my past that holds a very special place in my memory. So if you have a few minutes to spare, go to Google and type in a name, word or keyword that relates to your glory days. You might be surprised at what you find.