Ensign Lyman W. Keele, Jr., and his wife Cathleen
CD: Ron, thank you for taking the time to speak with me today about your good friend Lyman W. Keele, Jr. and the events surrounding his death after the tragic crash of Southern Airways Flight 242. You worked together at Southern, and you both flew out of Dobbins. To start, please describe to me how you became an A-7 attack pilot aboard the USS Oriskany during the Vietnam War.
RC: “I finished four years at Auburn in August of 1968, and the day I graduated I took a bus to Pensacola, Florida. So I graduated on Saturday, and by Monday I had started flight school in Pensacola. It took me six weeks to finish my Continue reading
Lydia gives some energetic loving to Lucy, her blind rescue horse at the farm
Just beyond the reach of Atlanta, at the end of a long and unpaved stretch of road in Cumming, GA, stands an old green farm house with a neighboring horse barn on 50 acres of prime land. This historic property is surrounded by stately white oak trees and towering long leaf pines, hardy sentinels that appear to provide a measure of safety and protection to the formerly victimized animals that live there. Some people call it the sanctuary of last resort, a hotel terminus at the end of the line. But they would be wrong, because a venerable spirit flourishes there, an energetic vitality that is nurtured by a group of fully dedicated and enthusiastic volunteers.
There is one ancient thoroughbred who has lived at the farm for as long as anyone can remember, despite the long odds Continue reading
The crowd at Altamont Speedway
December of 1969 was a fitting end to a turbulent decade in American history: the Black Panthers were under attack in L.A.; The Jackson 5 had their first appearance on the Ed Sullivan Show; John Lennon was offered the lead role in Jesus Christ Superstar; Vince Lombardi coached his last Green Bay Packers football game; Arlo Guthrie released Alice’s Restaurant; and on Sunday, December 6th, more then 300,000 overly indulgent fans attended the Rolling Stones free concert at the Altamont Speedway. Four people died that tragic day, and many more were injured. Some claimed it was the death knell for the “Age of Aquarius”–a knockout blow to the abiding myth of R&R innocence. Continue reading
Jimmy Johnson with Ronee Blakley
Back in the day when the Muscle Shoals Sound Studio was firing on all cylinders, co-founder Jimmy Johnson bragged that they recorded a new album every week, rarely taking any time off. He stayed busy as both a music producer and sound engineer, but he was also the versatile guitar player for their legendary house band known as “The Swampers.” I caught up with him recently, and we spoke about Annette Snell, the R&B singer who died in a terrible plane crash on April 4, 1977, just hours after completing her first recording session at MSSS. Johnson remembered her well, recalling her enormous drive and big talent. We also talked about his younger brother Earl, who tragically lost his life in the same plane crash. Continue reading
Jimmy at Earl’s graduation from Auburn
Jimmy Johnson has scaled musical heights that most musicians can only dream about. He was the killer guitar player for the Muscle Shoals Rhythm Section (aka “The Swampers”), and he was also an integral part of two legendary hit factories: Fame Studios in Muscle Shoals, Alabama, and the Muscle Shoals Sound Studio in nearby Sheffield. Johnson has had a storied career–the Swampers’ indelible discography is awe inspiring in its length, depth and breadth, boldly stretching from R&B to rock and roll, from folk, to soul, to country, and beyond.
Critics and musicologists alike sing the group’s infinite praises, trying to define the vision that allowed them to shine so brightly. Almost five Continue reading
Paul John Knowles
Paul John Knowles was a nasty piece of work. He met his violent end on December 18, 1974, sprawled across the backseat of a sheriff’s sedan after making his final bid for freedom. He failed spectacularly, taking three bullets to the chest, but not before he had secured his coveted spot on the All-America hit list as one of the most twisted and unpredictable rampage killers of his generation. He never had a chance to display his polish and presence in the courtroom like a Ted Bundy, nor did he dine out with the savage voracity of a Jeffrey Dahmer. His was a more immediate cruelty, one that favored the intimate feel of a nylon stocking as it tightened around a woman’s neck. But still, he was not averse to a swift bullet to his victim’s head, or the coldly plunging knife. Continue reading