Let’s get the band back together for Chicago trip – Dothan Eagle

With the disappearance of freedom of speech and fun, the recent rash of alleged, politically-incorrect, insensitive comments, and subsequent apologies, retractions and job losses, the pre-Independence Day column written for today has ceased to be.

Instead of reading this spaces usual drivel, youre on your own until further notice.

As the late Edward R. Murrow signed off newscasts, Good Night and Good Luck.

Dont know how Murrow and the CBS newsmen he assembled during/after World War II, including Troys Douglas Edwards, would handle social media, Instagram, Internet, YouTube, cell phones, lovers, truckers and thieves, ad nauseum, while ever-increasing coveys of moronic-aspiring twitters, from almost every walk of life, seemingly cant wait for their tweeters to leap into their cash registers.

Its sorta like Archie Campbells 1964 song, RinderCella, the youngest, prettiest sister who slopped her dripper.

Hard to believe, some of us baby bloomers(!) have long revisited the Summer of Love, aka 1967, while others continued happily motoring along, without looking back, attending class reunions and/or regretting mistakes made 50 summers ago.

Comedian Charlie Fleischer is credited by many for saying, If you can remember the 60s, you really werent there.

Maybe thats right for some; others of us with memories are extremely thankful for six magical words concerning the 60s: The statute of limitations has expired.

Whether and how well celebrate this July 4 aint decided, but on July 4, 1967, some 64 members of Enterprise High Schools Wildcat Marching Band celebrated involvement in the Summer of Love, in Chicago, where we represented Alabama at the 50th anniversary Lions International Convention.

Summer of Love seeds were sown in and around San Francisco in early January 67, and by summertime, more than 100,000 hippies, many festooned in vibrant paisleys, rallied at the Haight/Ashbury confluence, near where, in musically-magic 62, pre-Lady Gaga Tony Bennett had left his heart.

Long before 67s summers solstice, as it turned out, wed over-prepared afore boarding two chartered Greyhound buses for the 23.5-hour trip to Chicago; our contribution to the four-hour parade would be short and sweet.

Kris Holzapfel had provided, arguably, the highlight of our trip north when, unbeknownst to others, he sneaked a candy bar, Sessions Co. had given us, into the buss bathroom, where he stayed and stayed.

When Kris emerged, wed already noticed hed daubed chocolate specks all over his face before he suspiciously complained, ahem, about rough roads as we sped across rural Indiana and its historic Wabash River.

Simultaneously, some 50,000 Lions Club members from everywhere (thats the International part, Neal) had begun arriving in Chicago July 3, ready for numerous festivities, including the parade, which began on Michigan Avenue at Wacker Drive, and headed south some 14 blocks, ending at 9th Street.

Itd take this entire newspaper to rehash that unforgettable trip, but for 12 of us our leader, the late Bob McMillan, dubbed the Dixie Dozen, one day we played 17 venues, as the crow flies, throughout the Palmer House, Pick Congress and Conrad Hilton hotel convention venues.

Played Dixie every set and while strolling Michigan Avenue.

Since the 67 Lions gathering was the 50th, must mean thisuns the 100th and its in Chicago.

Wish now wed done what Ellwood and Jake Blues did, you know, get the band back together.

The convention runs through Tuesday.

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Let's get the band back together for Chicago trip - Dothan Eagle