[Posted Sunday pm]
**Breakind News…5:00 am Monday…two more Florida women
killed by alligators on Sunday!**
ABA Quiz: Name the teams that won the nine championships in
the ABA, 1968-76. Answer below. …..ok, ok, I sense a revolt.
There were six different franchises that won at least once. Now
get to it.
Well, I’ve had quite a time here in Savannah, Tenn. Actually, I
arrived late Wednesday, after a long, rough drive in the rain from
Nashville, and I really wanted a beer. So I asked the front desk
clerk at my Days Inn where I could get a good sit-down meal and
some premium lager and I was met by a smile.
“Uh oh…you mean Savannah is dry?”
“Yup.”
Drat. So I went to Allie’s Café for some catfish and sweetened
ice tea instead. And I behaved Thursday and Friday, as well.
Finally, Saturday, I found Hagy’s Catfish Hotel and thanks to my
Shiloh guide Ken H.’s recommendation, they did indeed have
beer, but only Bud Light and Miller Lite on tap. Well, there are
days in life when one can’t be choosy.
Otherwise, I saw quite a bit down here; Shiloh on Thursday, I
had to do that other column I do on Friday, and then on Saturday
it was a full day, to say the least.
I started at the Sheriff Buford Pusser Home & Museum in
neighboring Adamsville. Yes, Buford Pusser of “Walking Tall”
fame. What a trip. I showed up at 9:00 am, when the doors
opened, gave them my $5 and was seated for a little video on
some of Buford’s tragic incidents as he sought to fight crime in
McNairy County, which runs down to the Mississippi state line.
Pusser, born in Tennessee in 1937, had been working up in
Chicago where he met and married Pauline Mullins. The two
then decided to move to Adamsville where Buford took his first
job as a law enforcement officer working with his father Carl.
In 1964 he was elected sheriff and it was then he decided to clean
up the lawless State Line, and by all indications it was bad
stuff….gambling, prostitution and moonshine. The entire
community was fearful of the activities down this way and law
enforcement wasn’t doing much to combat it until Sheriff Pusser
took charge.
But this brought Buford a lot of enemies and on Aug. 12, 1967,
he and Pauline were fixin’ to go on vacation to visit Pauline’s
family in West Virginia. But Buford got a call to handle an issue
on the State Line. Pauline decided to go with him, to make sure
he didn’t tarry, with the thought they’d then head directly up to
West Virginia after Buford was finished with his business. But
driving down he was ambushed near New Hope Church. Buford
was hit in the chin, a wound that would take three years of plastic
surgery to fix, but Pauline was killed.
As it turned out, Pusser was hit some eight times in his career,
stabbed six or seven times, and he killed two people.
But the 6’6”, 250 lb. lawman had a gentle side to him, which was
part of his charm, and his reputation for upholding the law spread
far and wide until the film industry approached him and asked if
he would help with a movie on his life.
The result was “Walking Tall” with Joe Don Baker in the
starring role and Buford as chief advisor. By the way, Renee at
the museum (the granddaughter of Pusser’s deputy, Jim Moffett,
a k a ‘Grady’ in the movie…I was told) showed me the clubs that
were used in the first two movies. Buford never actually
employed one, but one time he had smashed three guys with a
fence post so the producers took that story and turned it into a
club. Renee handed me the one used in “Walking Tall II” (with
Bo Svensson) and it was a lead pipe painted to look like a club. I
mean to tell ya, that was one heavy weapon.
Anyway, Buford was sheriff until 1970; then traveled the world
promoting his film projects, only to decide to run again for
sheriff in 1974, a race he lost.
But Pusser was still a big star and on August 20, 1974, he
attended a press conference in Memphis to announce that he
would play himself in a movie titled “Buford.” From Memphis,
he went to the McNairy County Fair where he met his daughter,
Dwana, now 13. Poor Dwana was only six when she learned her
mother had been killed. Now she was about to go through
another tragedy.
Dwana later related how she played carnival games with her
father and how Buford won all kinds of stuffed animals for her.
Then there was a little confusion on how she would get home,
with Dwana choosing to go with friends while Buford said he’d
see her later. Dwana’s car left first, but soon her father was
screaming past her in his Corvette, his big toy.
Buford loved to drive fast and it’s estimated he was doing well
over 100 mph on Rt. 64 when he crashed. Dwana came upon the
accident and she cradled her daddy’s head, but it was too late.
No alcohol or drugs were involved…it was just the way Buford
Pusser lived his life.
In all sincerity, his home and museum are terrific. And Renee
was later joined by her mother, Jim Moffett’s daughter, and the
two regaled me with all kinds of local tales. Heck, I was the only
one there. If you’re ever in the area, you must stop by.
[I also purchased a video of interviews on Sheriff Pusser’s days
fighting crime so you’ll have to excuse me if over the coming
months I drop a story or two in as I get to the material. And Jeff
B., I can’t believe it but I forgot to look through my notes before
I went so I didn’t ask about your Jimmy Buffett story and his
possible encounter with Pusser. Fear not, though, I now have a
friend down there and I’ll call her this week.]
OK, that was stop one on Saturday. Guess where I went next?
Can you say Tupelo?!
Yeah man. It wasn’t until I got down to Savannah and I really
looked at a map that I realized I was only about two hours from
Tupelo, Miss., the birthplace of Elvis. So how could I pass it up,
especially since the weather was great?
West on Rt. 64 to 45 South and straight down to Tupelo. First
off, when I crossed the State Line, I stopped in the Mississippi
Welcome Center. I mean to tell ya, this is the nicest welcome
center I’ve ever come across in my life. It was decorated with
historical memorabilia and a lady behind a counter asked me
where I was from and how she could help. Even asked me if I
wanted a drink! Unfortunately she wasn’t serving beer, plus I
was driving anyway, so I passed.
On down to Tupelo and Elvis’s birthplace. Folks, I know it’s
way out of the way and all, but every single fan of rock and roll
has to get there at some point in their life. The museum that’s
attached to his little two-room home has some great pictures, but
I’d like to get my hands on the thing and redesign it…it needs
help. Tough to view some stuff, in other words.
The gardens and memorial around the house are super, though,
and I loved the inscriptions on the walls…memories from Elvis’s
friends and family.
Like this one from Henry “Bubba” Hellestine.
“On Sunday afternoon a bunch of us would go to the fairgrounds
and play baseball, ten or twelve black boys against ten or twelve
white boys. When the game was over, we’d fight. We weren’t
mad; we’d just fight. Then we’d go back to being friends. We
were just kids having fun.”
Of course you all know the story of Elvis and his first guitar, but
I’ll tell it anyway.
It was on his 11th birthday, 1946, that his mother Gladys took
him down to Tupelo Hardware. Elvis wanted a rifle in the worst
way, but Gladys asked the sales clerk, F.L. Bobo, how dangerous
the particular model Elvis was interested in was for an eleven-
year-old. Dangerous enough, it turns out, but Bobo and Gladys
suggested a guitar instead. Elvis wasn’t real happy but he really
had no choice in the matter so Gladys plopped down $7.90 for
the guitar.
F.L. Bobo later recalled that Gladys told Elvis:
“You just take that guitar home with you and learn to play it.
You might be famous some day.”
I went inside the teeny, tiny house where Elvis spent his first
three years, built for all of $180 in 1934 by his father and uncle.
As the uncle said, “That was a lot of money in those days.”
Later, after he hit the big time, Elvis purchased the home and 15
surrounding acres for a park. Otherwise the place would have
been destroyed and we all would have been the worse for it.
In fact, while I’ve never read any of the Elvis biographies (I hope
to when I’m in my rocking chair, though with some mental
faculties left), you just can’t find anyone to say a bad word about
the guy. You had to love him. And there was certainly no one
cooler.
Alas, his last few years weren’t exactly the best so I picked up a
copy of The Commercial Appeal (Memphis), Wednesday,
August 17, 1977.
Death Captures Crown Of Rock And Roll
– Elvis Dies Apparently After Heart Attack
By Lawrence Buser
“Elvis Presley died Tuesday, apparently after a heart attack, at
Graceland Mansion.
“The 42-year-old ‘king of rock and roll’ was found unconscious
in his night clothes at 2:30 p.m.
“Presley was found by his road manager, Joe Esposito, and was
taken by ambulance to Baptist Hospital’s emergency room where
he was pronounced dead at 3:30 p.m., police said. Hospital
officials announced the death at 4 p.m. …
“Police said they were told Presley had played racquetball at his
home early Tuesday and quit about 6 a.m. when he told friends
he was going to read.”
[This is what you’re told when you go to Graceland, by the way.
That he played hours of racquetball, so you’re thinking “With the
shape he was in? You’ve got to be kidding me.”]
From another article:
“A sad, quiet crowd of about 150 persons gathered at the
emergency room entrance of Baptists Hospital minutes after
news of Elvis Presley’s death was made public…
“Most of the people in the crowd said they never met the famous
entertainer, but most called him by his first name….
“All eyes were focused on the emergency room doors, as though
they expected some announcement that earlier reports had been
wrong.”
Actually, this newspaper is chock full of good stuff, but I’ll save
it for August. Like I forgot how two people in the humongous
throng outside Graceland were killed by a car.
Lastly on Saturday, I went back to Shiloh to tie up some loose
ends. Like walking around the “Hornets Nest” where some of
the most heroic fighting of the entire Civil War took place. If it
wasn’t for the efforts of Brig. Gen. Benjamin Prentiss and his
vastly outnumbered 4,000 Union troops, which repulsed one
Confederate charge after another for about eight hours the first
day, April 6, the ending would have likely been different.
Shiloh is the best preserved battlefield in the nation and you
really get a sense of what it must have been like. [Unlike so
many other parks where development is encroaching on all
sides.] That afternoon, April 6, Prentiss finally surrendered with
2,200 troops after a two-hour, 62 cannon assault (the largest
artillery force assembled in America to that point) under the
command of Confederate General Daniel Ruggles. [Boy a look
at this guy’s picture tells you he was a piece of work.] Anyway,
never had surrendering Union forces had such a positive impact
as these guys did. By delaying a crippling assault on Gen.
Grant’s troops, less than two miles away, Prentiss saved the day.
But enough about the Civil War. I know my audience is rather
thin when it comes to this topic…but this fall I’m heading to
Antietam so get ready for more history!
[And Ken. H., thanks again for a terrific tour Thursday. I’ll be in
touch when I get up to Lew Wallace’s home town, hopefully by
year end.]
Stuff
–We note the passing of former two-time heavyweight champ
Floyd Patterson. I thought I knew a decent amount about this
guy, but in reading some obituaries I didn’t know the following.
Born in a cabin in Waco, N.C., the 3rd eldest of 11 children, at
age 11 young Floyd still couldn’t read or write. He also didn’t
talk. So his parents, who had moved up north, sent him away to
school in upstate New York where he learned to read and was
encouraged to take up boxing. Returning to school in New York
City, he quit when he was 14 to become a full-time boxer. He
then went on to win the Gold as a middleweight at the 1952
Helsinki Olympic Games and then became an undersized
heavyweight as a pro, becoming the first two-time champ when
after owning the crown from 1956-59, he defeated Sweden’s
Ingemar Johansson in a rematch in 1960, holding the title a
second time until 1962 when he was blasted in the first round by
Sonny Liston. Patterson ended his career at 55-8-1 with 40
knockouts.
But the following quotes probably mirror your memories of the
guy.
The late Jim Murray / L.A. Times: “An intense, gentle,
tormented young man, perpetually sad, perpetually bedeviled by
nameless anxieties. Floyd Patterson is pathetically miscast as a
pugilist.”
Red Smith / N.Y. Times: Patterson was “a man of peace whose
life has been devoted to beating men with his fists.”
After Floyd annihilated Johansson in 1960, the champ said “I
was so filled with hate. I wouldn’t ever want to be like that
again.” [Mike Kupper / L.A. Times]
–Justin Gatlin became the world’s fastest human in running a
9.76 in Doha, thus besting Asafa Powell’s mark.
–Goodness gracious. A black bear was killed on the outskirts of
Newark last week. This bear had been filmed two days earlier by
a local network’s traffic reporter, rambling through backyards
about five miles away, and it made it all the way to Newark. Too
bad it didn’t take out some Bloods and Crips before it met its
untimely end.
[New Jersey has an exclusion zone, for the more populated areas,
whereby authorities are allowed to take the animal out without
negotiating with the bruin first.]
–The point guard for Southern California, Ryan Francis, was
shot to death in Baton Rouge, La., on Friday. It was way too
late, 3:30 am, and Francis was riding in a car with three friends
when another car pulled up and a guy got out and started firing,
hitting only Francis in the back seat a number of times. This is
so sick.
The other day Mark R. told me that an off-duty cop was killed in
Philadelphia and in the manhunt that followed, five cars were
stopped that met the description of the shooter’s vehicle. The
police chief later said that in all five cases, guns were found.
Back to happier fare.
–“Gators in Memphis? No, not those Gators”
In reading the above headline in a Tennessee paper the other day,
it seems alligators are showing up in Memphis! They aren’t
supposed to make it this far up the Mississippi, sports fans. Is it
a result of the mild winters? Or is it because pet owners are
dumping their gators and the monsters are then growing up? No
one has questioned the gators yet to find out the truth, but one 7-
footer was spotted on the river bank.
–But then we had a real gator tragedy in Florida. Yovy Suarez
Jimenez (no relation to Jose Jimenez that I’m aware of), 28, was
jogging when she evidently took a break and dangled her feet
over the edge of a canal (at least that’s what the last witness saw)
when an alligator killed her.
Officials later captured the suspect creature, all 9-feet, 6-inches
of it! And how did they know this was the one responsible?
Two human arms were found inside the alligator’s belly.
This was the 18th confirmed fatal gator attack in Florida since
1948, but my best estimate is the figure is more like 6,894. I
mean, heck, it seems like we’ve had 18 alone in just the past
year, doesn’t it?
–Isn’t it great to see Barry Bonds suffer as he attempts to pass
the Babe?
–Seen in the Buford Pusser Museum…an autographed copy of
an album by former Gov. Lester Maddox titled “God, Family &
Country.” I asked Renee to take it out of the case so I could look
at the back and she said I was the first person to ever ask to do
this. Then again, I’m probably the first person from New Jersey
to visit the place. Anyway, I was curious just what Lester does
on the album and it says he whistles, hums, sings and plays the
harmonica.
–Boy, looking at the Elvis pictures in his museum it was
startling to me just how incredibly beautiful Priscilla was in
those days. Seriously.
–So I’m driving around, listening to a ton of country music, and
I caught Jeff Foxworthy’s Sunday countdown show. [All the
country-related stars have their own it seems.] Anyway, Jeff had
on Faith Hill and they were a talkin’ and all and wouldn’t you
know this tour that Faith and hubby Tim McGraw are currently
doing is the first one they’ve done together in six years! Can you
believe that? As Jeff said, time sure flies, don’t it?
–Great country lyric… “I got these little things…she’s got you.”
–The San Francisco Giants’ Steve Finley is a 41-year-old
outfielder who has had a solid career and made a ton of money,
though I suspect steroids had something to do with his power
numbers. Anyway, this year he has one home run, two doubles,
and seven….seven…triples!
–By the way, with the Phillies recent surge, 13 of 14 at last
count, it’s time for me to revisit my early season predictions…
next time.
–For the record, the guy who should have been a junior, leading
his school, Wake Forest, to the NCAA championship, Chris Paul,
won the NBA Rookie of the Year award. Ask me if I care.
–I need to catch up on some nominees for year end…such as
David Blaine, who gets a “Jerk of the Year” nomination for his
stupid stunt. And Kevin Federline, “Idiot,” for his role in
producing four babies. [I’m sorry…Britney gets a pass in all this
in my book, plus she’s only half responsible, divided by another
half.]
–Did you see this stuff about NFL jerseys and Reggie Bush?
The rule is running backs must wear a jersey numbered 20
through 49, but Bush wants to retain his #5 from college. What’s
interesting, though, is that players get 6% of the amount for each
jersey sold and supposedly Randy Moss, the top seller, earned
$1.5 million just last year. The other top-selling jerseys for 2005:
2. Ben Roethlisberger…understandable
3. Peyton Manning…incredibly overrated
4. Michael Vick…why? What has he done?
5. Troy Polamalu…interesting
6. Donovan McNabb…loser
7. Terrell Owens…a lot of idiots out there
8. Tom Brady…now we’re talkin’
9. Hines Ward…another good selection…Mr. Clutch
10. Brett Favre…kind of tired of him
[Jarrett Bell / USA Today]
–I don’t watch “American Idol,” but on the front page of the
local paper here in Savannah, Tenn., Saturday, there was a story
about how Chris Daughtry, the guy who just got bounced and
was supposed to be the favorite, is being approached by a hot-
selling band, Fuel, that is looking for a new lead singer. Go for
it, dude.
Top 3 songs for the week of 5/19/73: #1 “You Are The Sunshine
Of My Life” (Stevie Wonder) #2 “Tie A Yellow Ribbon Round
The Ole Oak Tree” (Dawn featuring Tony Orlando…the official
name at this time) #3 “Little Willy” (The Sweet…She was
black…as the night…Willy was whiter than white……….not
that there’s anything wrong with that)…and…#4 “Pillow Talk”
(Sylvia…….ahhhhh….ahhhhh……………….oops, forgot to
apply an ‘R’ rating to this)
ABA Quiz Answer: The nine titles were won by –
1968…Pittsburgh
1969…Oakland
1970…Indiana
1971…Utah
1972…Indiana
1973…Indiana
1974…New York
1975…Kentucky
1976…New York
Man, I loved watching these games. And Darnell Hillman still
has the best ‘fro of all time, even better than Oscar Gamble’s.
Next Bar Chat, Thursday.
