Revisiting old journals from my Mars Hill College and Nashville lives.
These are from December, 1977, near the end of my first semester as a flute major at Mars Hill College. For those who don’t know, the “jury” I keep worrying about is like a final exam in applied music study — flute, in my case.
Captain’s Log: 120.677
It’s 8:00 AM and snowing. It really looks good. I told Phil on Saturday that it was gonna snow today. I hope to pass all of my tests and go to the ballgame tonight. At the ballgame I hope to see Madison beat Reynolds and Leesa. . . .
Phil Shuford lived across from me in Spilman Hall. And, of course, I didn’t hope to see Madison beat Leesa.
Captain’s Log: Supplimental
Today has ended rather boring, but well. I made 84 on my Math 110 test so I’m out of there with an 87.
It continued snowing and freezing the rest of the day so the games were called (I didn’t get to see Leesa). We all sat around tonight listening to music then watching “Houston, We’ve Got a Problem.”
I’m not correcting spelling or punctuation. Yes, I know it’s supplemental.
Captain’s Log: Stardate 120.777
I ain’t doing nothing but waiting and worrying about my jury on Friday. I’m usually not one to sweat but this is so important it seems dangerous not to worry. But I think I’ll stop worrying and just practice all day tomorrow and do my best. Tomorrow night is the Christmas Pageant dress rehearsal and then the pageant is Friday and Saturday.
Captain’s Log: Stardate 120.877
Today was a good’un, I really enjoyed it. Tomorrow I’ve got my jury at 10:10, work at 11:00, C&M audition at 2:00, take Phil to Asheville, Band, and finally the pageant. It will be pretty busy but I think I can handle it; after jury I know I can.
Tonight we had a rehearsal in the courthouse for the pageant. I made a new friend in Ellen Jenkins. She is a ’75 graduate of MHC and is now teaching voice here. She’s doing some solos for the choir.
Captain’s Log: Stardate 120.977
I am so relieved to have “jury” over with. I played this morning and my lip was so dry I could hardly control it. I could have played better, but I did well enough to pass so I’m not that worried. Tonight we did our first of two pageants and it went of real well, I’m really enjoying working with that bunch.
I’ve got plans for next semester; I’m gonna work on that flute ’til it starts being second nature to play.
I’ve got rehearsals all day tomorrow and the second pageant tomorrow night I’ll really be glad to get out of here.
Captain’s Compiled Log: Stardates 121.077 – 121.177
Saturday was a day to be slack. I didn’t enjoy as much slack as I had hoped though. I got up at 8:00 to get ready for flute choir at 9:30 and band at 10:30. We had youth group practice at 5:00 and then the pageant that night; a pretty musical day!
Today was about the same except all the practice became performing. This morning, in front of the four combined Walnut churches, our youth group received and gave some fantastic blessings from the mighty Lord through us. The cantata came off beautifully. Then this afternoon we had instrument concert in which I participated in the flute choir and concert band; it came off well this afternoon. I think Mom and Dad were very proud of me and that makes me feel good ’cause I’m a product of their lives together.
Captain’s Log: Stardate 121.277
It’s been an easy day here toward the end of the semester. I slept late, took Yogi to the bus station, and worked at the bookstore. I think I may have made some advances with Anita tonight. She’s a really nice girl and deserved the $5.00 I gave her for Christmas. Right now I’m sitting and watching Dallas beat San Fran and I hope they hold on. I guess I’ll get down to business and write a couple of critiques.
Yogi [?] was Phil Shuford’s roommate; I think the Anita mentioned is Anita Miller, who was my piano accompanist for solo flute lessons and performances (and $5 was a lot for a college student in 1977).
As is apparent above, I was, at first, fairly diligent in my journaling. This didn’t continue. The entry below is from December 9, 1980, and it’s one of my catch-up journal visits. My last confession prior to this was February 26 of that year. At that time, February, I was in the midst of my first sojourn to Nashville, studying as a music business major at Belmont College (Spring 1980).
Captain’s Log: Stardate 120.980
Time has not wasted itself on me. I has zoomed by, only waving as it passed, laughing. It is December on Earth and I am back in my own bed. An update follows.
I worked at Opryland for about six weeks but after a senseless day when I almost froze to death I quit. I found another job with TRIUNE MUSIC / TRIANGLE RECORDS, working in the mail room. The people there were great and I loved it while it lasted. However, after school was out all I wanted was to come home so as I usually do, I followed my heart right back to Carolina. Taylor joined the Navy so I didn’t really leave anything behind. At home I started work for Mike Tweed in his sports store . . . Joey and Charlene broke up . . . I started school at UNC-A . . . I met and began going out with Hannah Anderson . . . To regress back to the summer I had a gospel group for a time but we broke up . . . I saw Dallas Holm in concert at Opryland on July 4 . . . Back to the time table, I played Vivaldi’s Concerto in D major “Il Cardellino” at John Johnson’s long awaited wedding on Nov. 1 . . . I sang for 600 people at an awards banquet and received a standing ovation [see picture & article below] . . . I turned 22 . . . I broke up with Hannah at about the same time Dec. 8 as John Lennon was being murdered in NYC.
This all brings us to today where there’s little to report. Maybe tomorrow . . .
I sang a Larry Gatlin song as my audition to be a performer at Opryland, but halfway through a booming voice interrupted me with a second or third “Thank you.” They were looking for performers, which has never really been my thing. Anyway, I ended up working the flume (log) ride for a few weeks, until they made us work all of a cold, rainy day in March (with almost nobody in the park). As I was driving home that night, it was still raining and I was worn out. Just as the light at the corner of Edgehill and 17th Avenues turned green and I touched the gas, a jogger ran right across the intersection in front of me. I think it was Willie Nelson.
I lived in a single room (bathroom and kitchen shared with three others) in a house on 17th Avenue South. One was a pothead, whose name I don’t remember. Bob, maybe. Another was an Alabama guitar player whose name I can’t forget — Clovis Hitson. The third was the fellow mentioned above as headed for the Navy — Taylor Binkley.
As for UNCA in the fall of 1980, I made it through half a semester as an English major before I quit to work at Tweed’s sports store, to stay up late writing songs, to begin playing lounges and restaurant around the area. (I didn’t return to school until January 1991.)
John Lennon was murdered on December 8, the day before my entry, and the Sunday following, the 14th, might have been the last time I had much of anything to do with the church I (mostly) grew up in. That Sunday morning the redneck preacher got up and blasted Lennon for being an atheist (“Imagine there’s no heaven”) and a Communist (“Imagine there’s no countries”). I hope that I thought, Imagine there’s no ignorant preachers. . . . Still makes me sad and angry.
To be continued in Part Two.