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Black
A true story by Jamie Thompson
Gene
Yoder – Ladies Man, Big Man on Campus Back
in the winter of 1974/1975, I went on one of the strangest rock and roll
odysseys of my life. The central character in this little tale was a guy
named Gene Yoder who was the rhythm guitar player for our band " Yoder
was attending the
Yoder was always
talking about all the wild parties that went on up there and, of course,
all the chicks that were loose and fancy free and how he was with a
different girl every other day. He also frequently suggested that we
could get a gig up there and then we could all partake of the parties
and the girls and have a smashing good time for a weekend. One important
quality of his dad's cabin was that it was situated far out in the
sticks so we could make all the noise we wanted and not attract any
attention.
The
Party, the Gig, the Girls One weekend Yoder came home and announced that it was all arranged. He had scheduled a party at his father's cabin for a Friday night and booked us for a dance at the campus for the following Saturday night. It was going to be wine, women, and song all the way for us for an entire weekend! The plan was to leave Friday evening as early as possible after everyone got home from whatever they did during the day. Yoder said he would drive down to meet us and then lead the way back so that no one would get lost. The party was supposed to start about the time we left home so we expected it to be in full swing when we arrived. I must admit it sounded inviting to me. Even though I didn’t believe Yoder’s stories most of the time, I wouldn't have minded a wild party and perhaps a few lusty encounters with some college girls... or so I thought anyway. On the other hand, I was apprehensive because I had never been up there and I really didn't know what to expect. In the end I just figured, oh well, whatever happens will happen and I'll just go with the flow like I always do.
The
Shnow Must Go On!
When the Friday of
our planned departure arrived the weather report was not good. In fact
it was frightening! There was a major snowstorm heading straight for us
and we were headed north into the Ed’s
Jalopy I waited by the door and watched out the window until our drummer Ed Staylin came by to pick me up. To my surprise, he arrived in an old jalopy... I think it was an old Comet from the mid-1960’s or something. He borrowed it from his brother and let me tell you, it was a SERIOUS piece of junk. The body had rust holes everywhere and the paint job was mostly primer. There were holes in the floor that let in the bitter cold not to mention a nice view of the road as it raced by! The heater didn't work, and to top it all off, it had no accelerator pedal! Acceleration was achieved by pulling by hand on a coarse hemp rope that disappeared through a hole in the floor where the pedal should have been! As I crammed my guitar into the back seat with Ed’s drums and then settled into the front passenger seat, I couldn't believe that I was going clear to Hazleton in that contraption. We
met up with the other members of the group over at Yoder’s house.
After everyone was accounted for we decided to travel in a caravan in
case anyone experienced car trouble. That was a comfort! There were four
cars in all. Yoder drove his car. Our bass player, Dan Corelly, drove
his. One of Dan’s friends, Jim Keen, brought his girlfriend Debbie in
his car, and then there was Ed and I in Ed’s brother’s junkyard
special. All of the cars were packed with our gear. Let
it Snow, Let it Stall, Let it Snow
As we hit the road
the snowflakes started to fall. We went about a mile or so when suddenly
our junk car stalled at an intersection... and wouldn't start again. The
caravan stopped. We all conferred over the open hood for a minute or so
and then decided to try jump-starting it. It worked! As the snow started
accumulating on the ground and on the street, we were off again. As we hit the Turnpike the snow started coming down hard and fast. There weren't many cars on the road. Mostly commercial rigs, salt trucks, and snow removal vehicles. I started thinking that most of the traveling public must have canceled their plans for that evening and for the first time I wondered if this was all a big mistake... then I had a feeling of doom. But Ed seemed to be in good spirits and we were in a caravan of friends so the feeling soon passed and was replaced by a romantic sense of adventure. I settled into the conviction that we would make it somehow and that everything would turn out OK. Then Ed's car stalled again... and wouldn't start again. The whole caravan stopped and we all stood on the shoulder of the Turnpike, in the midst of what was rapidly becoming a blizzard, while the mechanically inclined looked under the hood. The obvious first solution was to jump it again. This was tricky on the Turnpike, though, because it meant that the vehicle supplying the juice had to be turned around so that the two car hoods could face each other. This was a dangerous operation on the shoulder of a highway with vehicles going by at high speed… and with snow rapidly accumulating. Suddenly in the distance flashing yellow lights and bright headlights appeared behind a wave of snow that was being flung to the side of the road. Through the white sheet I could just barley see the charcoal outline of a huge truck with a snowplow that was barreling down the shoulder of the road. It was heading straight for us and if he didn't see us he was going to plow right into us! I looked around in a panic. There was nowhere to run! Off the shoulder the terrain rose sharply into a steep, rocky, snowy embankment. Running into the highway meant certain death under the wheels of some truck. We were trapped! So, we stood there like a bunch of sitting ducks, waving frantically, hoping the driver would see us in time to stop. We lucked out! The driver did see us in time. Moreover, he stopped to help. He parked his big truck behind us so that its headlights lit up our jump-start operation while the flashing yellow lights gave plenty of warning to oncoming traffic. After we got Ed's car running again we thanked the trucker and continued our journey.
We finally made it
off the turnpike. That was a relief, or so I thought until I realized
that the roads on which we were now traveling were snow covered and
deserted. No sooner did we come to a traffic light when Ed's car stalled
again. This time there was no conference. The caravan stopped while the
jumpcar immediately turned around and pulled up to our hood. The
experienced battery jumpers administered the necessary therapy and we
were off again. Let
it Stall, Let it Snow, Let it Stall
The situation with
Ed's car worsened as we slowly made our way through rural northeast
Pennsylvania in
the blinding snow. It got to the point where the junker stalled every
time we stopped at a traffic light or a stop sign. Then it began
stalling when we decelerated while going down hills... and there are a
lot of hills in rural northeast
When we finally made
it to Hazelton it was way past The
Trek Yoder led the way as the grim travelers waded through knee-deep snow. It was exhausting work to pull our feet up just to take another step and do it again. We were all heartened, however, at the prospect of finding a nice party waiting for us at the cabin. Food, drink, a warm place to crash.... maybe not alone… Snowed in with a hot dog, a kegger and a pretty co-ed. The prospect made it all seem worthwhile. As we trudged along there was some concerned talk going on behind me. I turned and found Jim Keen and Debbie, both of whom had come along for the ‘fun,’ inspecting the girl's feet. My gosh! She was wearing sandals!! I couldn't believe it!!! Her legs and feet were sopping wet and her bare skin was turning blue in the cold. Then I said something that Ed will never let me forget. "Boy, I'd hate to be in your shoes!" It was one of those terrible faux pas that I was famous for in those days. I couldn’t believe I said it and I wanted desperately to reach out and snatch the words out of the air before anyone could hear them. Debbie gave me a dirty look as Jim stared at me in disbelief. Danny just glared at me. Ed cracked up in hysterics and repeated it over and over again as we continued on. "Hey! I'd hate to be in your shoes he says! Sandals, eh? Hah! Boy I’d sure hate to be in your shoes! Thanks a lot Thompson! Hah Hah! I’m sure she feels much better now… now that she knows you’re glad you’re not in HER shoes!…" It was a joke! It just came out. I didn't mean to offend. Everybody says the wrong thing at the wrong time every now and then… right? She could no longer walk so the only solution to avoid frostbite, gangrene, and amputation was to carry her. So, Jim Keen obliged. Man, what a task! It was hard enough to walk in that snow with your own weight let alone someone else's. Aside from the catastrophes that were plaguing us, it was a beautiful place. The depth of the darkness was profound. The stillness was so pervasive it hardly seemed disturbed by the sounds of our little band of luckless stragglers. Is there any way to describe the sight and sound of millions of snowflakes falling in rural Pennsylvania in a place where there was no sound or light pollution? It was enchanting! “Party
Central” Just
when it seemed like we all would drop exhausted into the snow and freeze
to death, the outline of a small building appeared. It wasn't like I
imagined it - a rustic cabin made of logs and fieldstones. It was one of
those pre-fabricated dwellings that you see on the highway being
transported by a slow-moving flatbed truck and escorted by cars with
flashing yellow lights bearing large signs with the words "WIDE
LOAD" written on them. At last! We made it!! But wait! Something was wrong... or missing. What was it??? It was the sound of college coeds partying... it wasn't there! Nope, I couldn't hear a peep coming from the place. No music, no murmur of happy voices, no clinking of beer glasses, no army of cars parked outside. The place was dark and silent and appeared to be deserted. "Where's the party, Yoder?" Jim Keen asked with a clear tone of sarcasm. Yoder sounded nervous. "There should be a party.... uh, there’s always one on Friday night." We huddled around the front door of the bungalow while Yoder fiddled with his keys. As the door flew open Yoder's two roommates, who were wrapped up in army blankets and sitting at a small table eating, gaped at us in complete surprise. The couple with the frozen feet headed straight for the bathroom. "Hi guys! Where is everybody?" piped Yoder with an air of feigned puzzlement. "What are you doing here?" one of them asked. "What's going on?" asked the other as they both surveyed our group. I think at that moment everyone was silently counting the number of beds versus the number of people. Suddenly the air became thick with tension. "We gotta gig on campus tomorrow, man. You knew that,” said Yoder. “Where is everybody? Isn't there usually a party here?" At that moment it was clear to me and everyone else that Yoder had made no real plans for a party. He just assumed that there would be one. I could sense the spirits of our weary group fall as the reality of the situation set in. At that moment, Debbie emerged from the bathroom limping slightly. Jim followed. "Is there anything to eat?" she asked. Yoder's roommates glanced at each other and then stared blankly back at us. "We just ate the last food in the house," they announced flatly. Our group let out a collective groan. We had just gone through the frozen tundra to get to this place and now there was no food, no party, and most of us had nowhere to sleep except the floor. No one could bring himself to say anything to Yoder. This was a real fiasco.
I didn't bother
trying to secure one of the available beds. Jim and Debbie, with her
frozen feet, obviously needed a bed. I was a pretty hearty kid so I
found a spot against the wall and let the others haggle it out. As the
night wore on I laid there on the hard floor with my coat over me
staring into the darkness with my stomach growling, reflecting on the
night's misadventures and wondering idly about what might be happening
in the room where Jim and Debbie were sharing a bed. Eventually I fell
asleep. Poker
Debbie In the morning I awoke to voracious hunger and the sound of talking. I soon found out that Yoder's roommates had left for the weekend and that Dan Corelly and Jim Keen had left Debbie behind with us while they waded off into the several feet of snow to get some food. I was glad to think that food was coming and that I didn't have to go get it. I was also relieved to see that the snow had stopped falling.
After I showered I
hung around with Ed, Gene, and Debbie. They played cards to pass the
time. Debbie took control of the cards. She seemed very good at what I
thought of as hard-core adult games like Poker and 5-Card Stud. I
elected to watch because I had almost no experience with games other
than Old Maid, Crazy Eights, Go Fish, and War. Her mood had improved
dramatically now that her feet were thawed out. I remember she had a
peculiar humor about her… sort of vixen-like. I thought that she was
enjoying being stranded in the wilderness with a boyfriend and four guys
that she didn't know. She flirted wickedly with us while Jim was gone.
Yoder was playing hardball with her on the flirting end of things. She
handled him well, though, and she deflected his many suggestive comments
with a phony innocent act. I played dumb. She wasn’t my type anyway. Food!
Glorious Food!
When Dan and Jim
returned we greeted them with cheers. They told us that the restaurant
had closed because of the blizzard. They managed to free one of the cars
but could only get junk food from a small convenience store. In the
meantime, the road was plowed out so, after a rather unsatisfying
breakfast of doughnuts, Tastykakes, and chocolate milk, Gene, Ed, and I
walked to the cars, shoveled them out and, all except for Ed's scrap
metal special, drove back to the bungalow. Operation:
Snowball Yoder, Phase 1
As we stood outside Yoder’s cabin making plans for the gig, our frustration level was pretty high. No one was saying much about it but you could read it on our faces. Then there was something else in the eyes of the group... without saying a word we all knew what the others were thinking. As if on cue we suddenly picked up snowballs and started bombing Yoder. He laughed and returned fire. It was all fun and games on the surface but there was definitely also a venting of subdued rage. The snowball fight lasted for quite a while and Yoder took many hard hits. Afterward we resumed playing cards and Debbie continued her role as leader/dealer. I was very bored with the whole thing. I'm not much of a card player and even less of a gambler so I was glad when the time came to get going.
Disaster
Strikes the Wipes
When we opened the
door to leave, though, a miserable sight greeted us. It was snowing
again! And it was accumulating. The sight sickened us all. Then the next
disaster happened. When Danny Corelly turned on his windshield wipers,
they went back and forth a couple of times and then went limp! We pulled
on them and yanked them one way and another but we couldn't get them to
go for anything. What could we do? We couldn't drive the car in the snow
without windshield wipers! We were down to two cars so we did the only
thing we could do. We unloaded Corelly's car and repacked the remaining
cars with all of our stuff plus ourselves. It was VERY challenging, but
somehow we did it. Food!
Glorious Food! Reprise We stopped at a restaurant in town to get a much-needed good meal and then continued on to Penn State Hazelton. Maybe the gig would be really great. Maybe we'd have loads of fun and the balance of our adventure would be as fantastic as the first half was terrible.
The
Gig The snow continued to fall as we unloaded our gear through the backdoor of a cafeteria. The floor had been cleared of tables and a bunch of risers had been placed at one end of the room for the band to set up on. We trudged in and out of the door as a couple of student government types stood idly by watching us work. Nothing frustrates a rock and roller who's dragging gear around more than a couple of able-bodied bozos standing around not helping. I can’t tell you how many fraternity parties I played where the Social Events Coordinator promised we would have a dozen, or so, pledges that would be at our beck and call for backbreaking work… But then, when the work was being done, our would-be slaves just stood around and watched. We got ourselves all set up and did a sound check. From there all we had to do was wait for the crowd to come... You guessed it! They never came! Well, at least not what one might call a crowd. The rest of the kids that showed up were also student government types who were conscripted for crowd control duties. So, we played our high energy rock n' roll sets for Jim Keen, his card-playing girlfriend and a mostly empty room with six or seven kids standing off on the side by the door with their arms folded. They watched us with the same expression as if we were a test pattern on TV while Jim and Debbie danced close as if in a trace. Finally, one of the student government kids asked, “Can you guys play any music from the Carpenters?” We were stunned! “How about some more Grateful Dead?” Gene asked hopefully. “Who?” the student asked. “Sorry, we don’t play any Who songs,” Dan answered with a crooked look. “What??” “What’s on second!” Ed called out with a silly grin. I cracked up loudly all by myself and everyone looked at me like I was nuts. This was going to be a long night. If
you've ever played rock n' roll to an empty room, then you know that
it's not very stimulating. In fact, it's downright boring!! You end up
talking and acting as though it were a glorified rehearsal. The bottom
line is, though, you usually don't get paid until AFTER the gig is over
so you play short sets, take long breaks, and stick with it for the sake
of the monetary reward at the end. Operation:
Snowball Yoder, Phase 2
During our second
break there was a lot of grumbling going on within the members over the
whole trip. So, we decided to lay a trap for Yoder and pay him back good
for everything. When he wasn’t looking we snuck outside and then sent
Eddie Staylin in to tell him that there was a sexy girl outside saying
that she wanted to meet him. Meanwhile we prepared the trap. The moment
he walked through the door he got nailed by a wicked snowball cluster
bomb that continued for several minutes. Eventually he escaped from the
onslaught and managed to take cover behind some bushes. A tremendous
snowball fight then continued for the rest of our break and Yoder took a
real beating. I remember him laughing as the snowballs whacked him. He
didn't get it! He thought it was all for fun! When we continued playing
our last set Yoder’s hair was tousled and he was soaked. He looked
ridiculous and very uncomfortable… but we didn’t mind! A
Done Deal
When the gig was over
we all worked hard to get out of there fast before the roads got much
worse. Luckily it wasn't snowing as hard as the night before or we may
have opted to camp out right there in the cafeteria where it was warm
and where there was food. I don't suppose the student government types
would've allowed us to do that but we might've tied them up until after
we left in order to avoid going back to
Well, we found our
way back to Yoder's bungalow. No party, no chicks. It was a done deal.
The disaster had now swallowed the journey up, the party, and the gig.
What could be left? Operation:
Snowball Yoder, Phase 3
The next morning it
was still snowing lightly and we nailed Yoder with snowballs again. This
time he didn't seem to enjoy it as much. He started complaining that it
was unfair of us to saddle him with all the blame. After all, how could
he have known that there would be a blizzard that weekend? He had a
point there, but we nailed him anyway! It wasn’t so much because of
the blizzard as it was all of the BS that he had been shoveling onto us
for so long. Breakfast
at Ed’s
Before we went to the
gig the day before, Ed secretly picked up some eggs along the way. He
surprised us all by whipping them out and offering to make breakfast for
everyone. But as the food was being consumed and Ed was still toiling in
the kitchen, Jim Keen made the innocent mistake of taking a second
helping... and inadvertently ate Ed's breakfast for him! Man! I don't
know if I ever saw Ed so angry when he found out! He was ready to attack
Jim and beat him to a pulp. Not many words were spoken but you could cut
the tension in the air with a knife. I managed to corral Ed into one of
the bedrooms and calm him down before he did something he'd regret. He
was very bitter… not to mention hungry! Let
Your Love Rain Down on Me The time to go home finally came just in time for the rain to begin. This was not good news for Danny and his windshield wiper situation. We also had to rethink the pack job because Ed's brother's car had completely died while we were there and we decided just to leave it parked at the hunter's restaurant until someone could return for it. (No one ever did!) My stuff and I got assigned to Jim Keen's car while Ed squeezed his drums and his stuff into Danny's car. Yoder managed to pack the rest in his car. The last I saw them that day they were pulling out of the bungalow's driveway. Danny was driving with the window down and his head sticking out so he could see the road. It was going to be a long drive for him in the rain with the window down! Once we all got on the road the caravan dissolved. Everyone went their own speed and soon we all lost sight of each other's cars. I made some light conversation with Jim and Debbie but before long we were traveling in silence. We were all tired and the weekend was a complete washout despite all our efforts.
As I sat in the
backseat and dreamily watched Northeast Pennsylvania
whiz by my mind replayed the events of the
weekend: Ed pulling on that dopey rope and us having to jump-start that
car a thousand times. The blizzard, the frozen feet, bombing Yoder with
snowballs, the party that no one came to, the gig that nobody saw, no
food, not enough places to sleep, Ed almost murdering Jim, Danny's
windshield wipers, the rain. What a disaster! Thank God it was over! It
Ain’t Over Till It’s Over
As we pulled into I couldn't believe it! We were so close to home! I wanted so much to take a long shower, get some food, and relax in the comfort and security of my house. Now I was hours away from home by foot, or who-knows-how-long by thumb. The last thing I wanted to do was leave my guitar and amp on the side of the road in a dead car. And poor Jimmy Keen! There he was, stranded with his girlfriend and a car that probably needed a tow to the nearest junkyard. This was the icing on the cake! Looking around, I realized where I was. An acquaintance of mine named Jerry Oppenheimer lived in the neighborhood that was situated beyond the tree line on the other side of the road. I didn't know him real well but I had been to his house once before and I was sure that if anyone was home, they would let me use their phone.
Jerry wasn't home but
his mother was very nice. She probably didn't remember me but she let us
in anyway and within minutes I was talking to my mother on the phone.
She had been worried sick about me all weekend. After explaining our
circumstances she agreed to come right out and pick me up. Jim and
Debbie also made arrangements for a tow truck to come and for someone
they knew to pick them up. Within twenty minutes my stuff and I were in
my mother's car. I stared pensively at Jim’s disabled car as we drove
by. He and Debbie were too preoccupied with their predicament to wave as
my mom and I pulled away. I couldn't help wondering what calamities
might have struck the others on their way home. Home
Sweet Home As we drove down the road I kept thinking that we might get a flat, or that the engine was going to blow up, or that the tailpipe would fall off, or that a meteor might fall out of the sky and obliterate us. But, it appeared the madness had finally ended for the weekend.
Upon arriving at home
I jumped out of the car and kissed the driveway. Then I ran into the
house and had a joyful reunion with my dog, who was also worried about
me. There's nothing as good as coming home after a royal misadventure. I
stood in the hot shower for about and hour and then had a royal feast in
the kitchen… home sweet home! Black
Cloud Over Yoder The Odyssey became known among our band and our friends as "That Time the Black Cloud Followed Us to Hazelton" and the story was told and retold many times. With closer observation it soon came to my attention that, in particular, the Black Cloud seemed to follow Yoder around - precipitating doom and destruction upon him and everyone who happened to be anywhere near him. So, I concluded that we were just innocent victims caught in the crossfire between Yoder and the gods. I don’t think he ever learned his lesson, though. The last I heard, to this day Yoder, now almost 50, dies his hair blonde, never married, and dates only beautiful young women who are under 30… I haven’t seen him in years. I also make it a point not to stand under trees during a thunderstorm!
The End
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