I was way down on my luck around Austin, Texas in 1973. When I say way down, I mean down to nothing. I had a friend with me and all we had was my old 1954 Ford Pick Up, a guitar, a small P.A. system, and my dog. We were camped at the Lower Colorado River Authority park at the dam at Lake Travis. You can only stay a week or so before they come ask you to leave. We told the kind park ranger that leaving was impossible until we could come up with the money for gas. Gas had just gone up because of whatever happened in 1972 to raise the price of oil. It had gone up to a staggering.40 a gallon. My old truck held 16 gallons so it would have taken all of $6.00 to fill it up. Couldn't make it happen. Anyway, the kind ranger let us stay.
One day I was sitting around playing my guitar when this guy comes up and tells me he owns Lake Austin Lodge, not too far away. He says he's got this family reunion booked for over three hundred folks and they want some entertainment. He said they must be the partying type because they have requested two dozen kegs and one hundred cases of beer. He ask me if I would play for 50 bucks. Well, yes I would be glad to oblige Sir! See you Friday night.
Friday my friend and I load up and head for the gig. They have this real nice stage area and their own P.A. system so I don't have to set up my gear. I get everything ready and then... Rumble! Up comes about 200 Banditos. It just so happens that the family reunion is the Texas Banditos from every chapter in the state. They immediately throw the owner out of the bar area and start shoveling out beer. The owner is frantic, but hey what are you gonna do? A stream of bikers keep coming in. I do not know how many finally show up, but it is a lot. And these ain't no weekend warriors. They are the real deal.
My friend freaks. "Let's get out of here, now", he is frantically begging me. No, I tell him, we need the money. "Then give me your keys" he says. And that is what I do. He runs to my truck and speeds away. Now I am alone, just one guitar and one worked up audience.
I am on stage trying to figure out how to begin when this old man comes up from nowhere and ask me if I know how to play Tennessee Waltz. He pulls out a harmonica and smiles. I tell him he had best leave when this huge biker grabs the harp from the guy and starts blowing the blues. It is an A harp and everyone and their brother can play blues in E on the guitar so away I go. Well this guy is named Terry and he is the Sergeant At Arms for the whole gang and he adopts me on the spot. We play and play and play. Nobody gives me any trouble because Terry likes me and is one bad dude.
When it is all over I try and find the owner for my 50 bucks. I find him in the kitchen area and he does not look too good for wear. Seems he challenged the situation and lost on appeal. He is not giving me a dime. I come out of there and Terry asks me what gives. I tell him I am broke and this guy won't pay. "I got that" he says. He takes a trash bag and goes outside and tells every one of his brothers to give at least 20 bucks to the pot or he will do bad things to them. They all cough up something. He gives me the bag and says put it anywhere you want, no one will touch it. "Now let's you and me party."
Next day I get on the back of Terry's bike with my guitar and sack of cash and they give me a ride back to camp. They end up staying there 3 or 4 days. Texas State Troopers shut down the road going across the dam and just let the 3 to 5 hundred bikers do their thing.
They finally wave buy and Bingo! they are gone. The bag they gave me had over 2 thousand dollars in it and I wave Bye Bye to Lake Travis.
Roy Horne, aka Little Roy Gene, professional musician, songwriter, singer has performed for over 40 years. His music can be found at his website http://www.littleroygene.com
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