For much of my childhood my Mom was a waitress. I’m not kidding when I say that she loved her job. She loved people and looked forward to meeting new faces with every shift she worked. We all know that waitresses aren’t paid very well, but she usually made very good tips because everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, loved her.
She would only take jobs where she could work week days and off weekends while I was very young so I wouldn’t be alone in the house after school. As I got older she would take a night shift now and then, but as a rule she tried not to make a habit of it.
She worked for years and years at a restaurant here in town. It was a large place that had a diner/dining room and a bar all attached. She worked in the diner/dining room part and I spent a lot of time hanging out there during her shifts.
As I got older sometimes they would put me to work washing dishes or busing tables. I was technically too young to be officially on the payroll but they would toss me a few bucks for helping out.
A few times when my Mom would get called into work for a rare evening shift, I would go to work with her. I’d do homework while sitting in the break room or the kitchen or I’d read a book. Most of the time, I’d help somebody do something. I learned to bake pies and prep for the cook. But what I really liked to do was peek my head into the bar so I could listen to the bands.
Yes. It started that early with me.
I had a favorite band that I was fascinated with because the drummer would play ‘Wipeout’ but not only on his drums. He’d play on bar glasses, the tables, the walls and any available surface that would make noise. He was an amazingly talented drummer. His name was Terry and even though he was far too old for me, I believe he was probably my first musician crush.
During the band breaks while all of the other guys were drinking and talking to people in the bar, Terry would come into the restaurant and sit at my Mom’s break table and drink water for some peace and quiet. They became friends and he was always so very kind to me. I ended up knowing Terry from the time I was about 12 years old until I was 16, when the restaurant closed. His band played there almost every other week during that entire time.
Once there was some drama at the restaurant. My Mom would have called it a “rough night” and the crowd that was overflowing from the bar into the diner was not fit to be around her daughter. At that time I was old enough to stay at our house by myself and we only lived a few blocks away but she was still not comfortable with letting me walk home alone and I was stubborn enough to think I would be just fine doing so. Terry overheard us arguing and he offered to walk me home during his band’s break. He should have been resting and rehydrating, but instead he walked me home so I wouldn’t have to stay around the “rough crowd” and my Mom wouldn’t have to worry about me walking alone. That’s the kind of guy he was.
After the restaurant closed I didn’t get to see Terry anymore.
Anyone who has been reading this here little blog for sometime knows that I support our local music scene in a big, big way. So many of my friends are in bands, work in radio or e-zine and print and so on.
Recently on the Facebook of one of my very best friends in the whole world I saw Terry. I couldn’t believe it. He hasn’t changed all that much and still plays drums. I was happy to see him but I figured that he wouldn’t remember me so I didn’t contact him. It was good enough for me to see that he was still around and still playing.
The restaurant where my Mom worked re-opened some years ago but the large building has been turned into three different businesses; the restaurant, a bar and a music store.
My friend Jerry (not to be confused with Terry) owns and operates the music store. He is also a fantastic musician and played in bands at that restaurant ‘back in the day’ when my Mom worked in that restaurant. Jerry is a great guy and he recently asked me to take photos at his son’s graduation party/jam. I was honored and said that I would, of course, love to do that for him.
Jerry’s 19 year old son, JCIII, has been accepted into a music program in Texas and will be leaving soon to begin his college life. His twin sister is also going to college in Texas and will be working at a radio station when school starts again. But while he is still here, JCIII is in a band with a group of older guys and my old drummer friend Terry is one of them.
Small world, right?
I went to the place where JCIII’s party was to be held and I took a bunch of photos and about an hour into the party I saw my friend Terry walk in with his lovely wife. For some odd reason tears welled up in my eyes, but I didn’t go over to talk to him because I never thought he would remember me.
Throughout the course of the party Terry got up and played drums with JCIII and a bunch of other people and while he played his wife danced with a bunch of little girls and kept them entertained. I took pictures of her and we started talking. I told her about being a very young kid when I first met her husband and how fond of him my Mom and I were. She thought that was the best story ever.
A few minutes after Terry got done playing he came over to me and held my hands and told me that he had thought of me so often and wondered where my Mom and I had gone and how we were. I honestly couldn’t believe that he remembered me at all, but he did. My heart swells just thinking about it.
My friend Jerry says he is totally in love with the photos I took of the party and his son even called to thank me and tell me that I had captured his memories perfectly. Tears streamed down my face as that kid was talking to me. His father tried to pay me for the photos but I insisted that they are my graduation present to JCIII. I couldn’t have been happier.
Last Sunday was just the best day.
JCIII, Jerry & Terry
What Was I Thinking? 