WAYNE PERDUE

 Just recently, I saw on Facebook that Wayne Perdue passed. It’s another one of those times when shock takes over because I still see a man who was a mere high schooler and wonder how he could be gone. Wayne was a special person to most of us males at Karns High School. It could even be said that Wayne was a legend in our community and to many other folks from around the Knoxville area.  

This man didn’t acquire legend status by being a super athlete, nor was he a war hero who came home to glorious praise. To teenagers in the 1960’s, his fame came in the form pale yellow Chevy II. It was sleek on the outside, but under the hood of that car lived a beast. I never knew what kind of motor and adjustments Wayne made to it, and to be honest, I wouldn’t have understood anyway. 

On weekends sometime around midnight, cars pulled into the old shopping center that housed Ritter’s Grocery, Helton Hardware, and Gillenwater Drugs. Back then, few cars drove on Oak Ridge Highway that late. The ones that did were intent on racing at the redlight. A quarter mile stretch started there and ended at the old library. 

All sorts of vehicles in all kinds of conditions pulled into one of the lanes and waited for the light to turn green. Squalling tires, revved engines, and fishtailing backends sprinted down the highway. Ones that sputtered or headed out of control toward ditches ended a quick race to the sounds of laughter or name-calling. Some races ended when a northbound car appeared, and racers pulled off the side of the road. Sometimes Everett, the Knox County officer who lived in Karns, drove in and disbursed the crowd. A few poor souls pushed their cars to the breaking point and smoke boiled from under the hood as the car limped to a stop.  

We all sat around and talked and waited for Wayne’s appearance, and when it came, a crowd encircled the hottest car in the area. Wayne always seemed to have a good time with us and treated everyone with kindness and respect. Cars came from all over Knoxville. Drivers felt sure that they had the horses to beat Wayne. However, when the light turned green, that yellow Chevy II left most other cars sitting in a cloud of burned rubber.  

If I recall correctly, Wayne suffered a serious injury to his leg from a wreck. He walked with a limp the last time I remember seeing him. I don’t know that anyone ever beat Wayne Perdue. If that did happen, I don’t want to know about it. The way I remember things is the fuel for creating legends, and Wayne Perdue was a living legend. I hope he has the chance to race again in a better, safer place to which he has gone. I also hope he has the opportunity to test his skills against Doyle Green, an older Karns student who lost his life speeding down Beaver Ridge Road in front of the old high school. I thank both of them for giving me people to idolize when I was in high school.  

Today, not much interest lies in racing at the redlight. For one thing, the roads are much too crowded with cars. Still, many of us remember the days when drivers could so smoothly work the clutch and manual transmission as they sped down the highway. Those who could do so were artists who became legends. Thanks, Wayne Perdue, for making my life a bit fuller and more exciting.  

STILL THE ONE

 The band called “last song,” and couples scooted to the center of the gym floor. Teenagers had spent the last couple of hours gyrating to some songs and then holding onto each other for slower selections. Everyone in the gym knew what the final tune would be. After introductory chords, the lead singer softly sang “When the night has come, and the land is dark,” and couples embraced and sang the chorus of “Stand by Me.” Just for a few minutes, they imagined that only the two of them were alive in the world and that they would be together forever. 

That’s the kind of effect the music of the 60’s and early 70’s had on those of us in high school. Music helped young folk escape every problem and hurdle that might exist in the world. Some felt the ache and fear of leaving home for college. That meant leaving family and a boy or girlfriend behind. Others wanted no part of college and chose instead to begin careers. Too many teens graduated high school only to receive the news that their lottery numbers were selected and they’d been drafted.  

No matter what the situation, we foolish young people let music lighten our loads and send our spirits soaring. Sure, plenty of listeners thrived on the Beatles or the Rolling Stones, but another huge group loved a variety of music. The Four Tops and The Temptations could sing us to the highest mountain tops or to the depths of despair with their songs. The Supremes always produced catchy tunes.  Oliver had us all singing “Good Morning Starshine,” and the “Classic Four” sang of the sadness in breaking up in “Traces,”  

In our day, a car radio was essential. WNOX and WKGN kept us in the groove with upbeat music most of the day. On those occasions when we had dates, slow, emotion-filled songs filled the car as couples parked on out of the way streets, fogged the windows, and swore devotion. Concord pool was the only public pool around us, and teens packed the pavilion where the jukebox was located.  

At some point, the music changed again. Groups like BST, Chicago, and Chase caught our attention. Their use of brass sections made the music different and added a cutting edge. We high school band geeks loved them and listened with delight as trumpets screamed higher octaves and trombones produced magic with their slide. 

The most wonderful thing about our music from way back then is the fact that today’s young folks like it. Today’s teens know the lyrics to some of the best songs of the time. Put on a song by The Four Tops, play “Respect” by Aretha, or “The Twist,” and watch folks of every age group begin to sing. In just a few seconds their hips begin to move ever-so-slightly with the rhythm. Older folks might take a minute to remember how many of the songs from back then were performed at the most serious and joyous occasions of their short lives.  

I watched a documentary about the group Chicago the other evening. They have toured for 55 years and have a schedule of tour dates for 2023.  Over that time, the band has cut 38 albums and sold more than 100,000,000 of them. That’s staying power. I know that several of their early songs are tied to some of the most precious memories I have.  

God decided that we humans needed music. He knew that the notes that the human voice or and instrument sounds can affect our moods and lives. I’m not a fan of too much present-day music. I might be wrong but seriously doubt that many, if any, of the selections today will achieve the eternal popularity of the 60’ and 70’s music. If you are too young, take time to listen to those songs and pass them along to your children. As far as making people happy, that music is still the one.  

BEING DUMPED

 My car radio is tuned to the 60’s and 70’s channels. The morning drive time show features the songs I love best, although most music from those years sparks a memory of some kind. The last couple of mornings, the tunes have reminded me of some of the hardest times that teens experienced. Breaking up with a girlfriend or boyfriend was no fun. 

I’m an authority on being dumped. It happened on a consistent basis in high school and the first years of college. Only when I quit dating did the dumping cease. Then I found Amy, or maybe she found me, and she gave me even more love than I deserved.  

Being dumped used to follow a standard set of actions. First came arguments. (Since I’ve never been a female, this piece is from a male point of view.) The spats began over anything the boy does or said. His girlfriend’s plan was to provoke the male and then lay the fault on him. The night’s date ended early as he took her home.  

When the boy called his sweetheart, she didn’t answer. At other times, the busy signal echoed across the airwaves. When he questioned her about the phone the next day, she declared that her mom left the phone off the hook. His suspicions were alerted, but he accepted the lie.  

Between classes, she ignored her boyfriend as she chatted up some other guy, usually a good-looking athlete with whom the boy can never compete. During another break, he found her in a huddle with friends in the locker bay. Before long, this teen wondered why his girl was ignoring him. She denied any accusations and turned a cold shoulder to him.  

After a few weeks of fights, cold shoulders, no phone calls, and less affection, the big talk came. The couple went out for a date, but neither was at ease. The car rolled to a stop on a dark road located in a half-finished subdivision. The male asked what’s wrong with the girl, and she answered “Nothing.” He then asked why she was acting differently, but she sat in silence. The anger boiled below the surface as his girlfriend stared through the windshield at nothing. Then she turned to look at him and, for a second, pitied him. She told him that their relationship was crumbling and that they both needed to see other people. Tears flowed, begging began, and in the end, she removed his class ring from the chain around her neck and handed it to him. She whimpered to go home, and when they arrived, the former girlfriend sealed the break-up by saying, “We can still be friends. I really care about you.” It was brutal, and the next few months were torturous for the broken-hearted boy. 

I’m not sure about young couples these days and how they manage ending relationships. Both individuals are so involved with cell phones and video games and social media that they don’t seem to have time for each other. How do they even know if they are a couple? Do they talk or text to each other? If they do communicate, about what do they talk? Do they go on dates or just stay tied to technological communications? When they break up, do they do it in person or through zoom or facetime?   

I might be out of the loop. So much in life is different from when I was a teen. If a girl tried to break my heart now, I might not understand that the girl dumped me. Wouldn’t that be a mess? I like the old ways of being cut loose. The girls in my life always made it abundantly clear that I’d been kicked to the curb. At least they did It face-to-face. Even some of the bad things from the old days are better than the new ones.