CHAPTER 1
Roots - Doug Ardoin

        It all began in Eunice, La. Doug Ardoin had bugged his parents so much for a guitar that they finally bought one. It didn’t take Doug very long to figure out how to play it.  One afternoon, as Doug was twanging it out in the kitchen, his good friend Harris Miller walked in, and was immediately fascinated with Doug’s new Fender guitar. Being a very curious fifteen year old, it didn’t take long for Harris to talk Doug into teaching him how to play a few licks.  Harris spoke to his parents about purchasing a guitar for him, and he and Doug started jamming together. They practiced together every day and soon they realized that something magical happened when they played together. It did not dawn on them at the time that this was the beginning of one of the most controversial musical groups of all time. The genius of these two young boys was evident the very first time that they sat down and played together.
        Enter Bert Miller. Doug and Harris were so enthused about the sounds they were coming up with that they decided to look for a drummer. Doug remembered about Bert Miller, a local Eunice, Louisiana kid that played the drums and also sang. So they invited Bert to practice with them.
        Now with Bert Miller singing and playing, they had the makings of a real band. All they needed was a name.  At that time, “Rhythm & Blues” was called “Boogie & Blues,” a descriptive title that was held over from the 1940s.  While trying to name the band at a practice session one day, Bert’s sister said, “Why not call the band “The Boogie Kings?”  The guys liked it so much that it became the official name of the band.  Wow, what a name!
The trio started making appearances at school functions, and was an instant hit with all of their school friends. But something was missing. They decided that they needed a bass player, as bass parts were a very big part of the music at that particular time. This was in the late 1950s. The old acoustic upright bass was quickly being replaced by the new electric bass.  The popular music was from artists like Fats Domino, Chuck Berry, Little Richard and other black artists. The musical taste of the country was being dominated by black Rock n’ Roll. There were some successful white artists at that time such as Elvis, Pat Boone, Paul Anka and Neil Sedaka, but the Boogie Kings were more interested in true Blues-rooted music as played by the black artists of the time.
        The group eventually realized that they were playing the popular Rhythm n’ Blues radio hits better than the original artists, so it sort of became an unwritten law that the selling point of the band would be white guys playing black music. This decision would eventually prove to be one of the most important keys to the success of the band.  The bass player that got the job with the band was Mark Jenkins. Mark added a nice bottom to the band. So now the band had two vocalists, two guitars, drums and bass.  Doug was doing some singing under the name of Doug Charles.  About that time the band was starting to play at a few local night clubs. Very quickly the band started drawing larger and more enthusiastic crowds than usual. As the money got better, Doug decided to add a couple of horns to the band.   Bryan Leger and Mike Pollard were brought in and added a whole new dimension to the band. It seemed that every time the Boogie Kings added someone to the group that the magic got better and more real. It was like the band could make no mistakes.
        Eventually, the band was so hot that the Pelican Club in Marksville, Louisiana hired them on weekends for some very good money. The Boogie Kings lived up to their reputation by jamming the Pelican Club with thousands of customers every weekend and the reputation of the Boogie Kings grew larger with each performance.
        Duane Yates was just a young kid at the time, but he was already aware of the Boogie Kings “magic.” Duane was performing at the time with his own group, “The Capris,” a great band in its own right.   Duane fantasized about being a Boogie King, little knowing that his wish would eventually come true. Duane tried valiantly to get the Boogie Kings to let him sit in and sing a few songs, but at that time the band, thinking he was just a pest, shined him on.  Something else was beginning to happen almost as a matter of fact.  It was the presence of drugs and alcohol, something that would torment the band for decades to come.  Most of the night club owners loved the band so much that they would let the band drink free. At the same time the country was discovering that diet pills contained narcotics. Doctors disclosed so little about addiction in those days, that prescriptions for diet pills were readily available and easy to obtain. Some of the guys in the band got severely hooked on booze and pills. The energy level of the band began to increase as more and more guys started eating pills to get up, and drinking booze to come down. The surprising fact was that no persons in the audience were aware of the source of all of this energy.  Rock n’ Roll of course is, in and of itself, a high energy music form. The early 1950s were a time when rock music was changing the world around the young people.
         The first white blues band that I became aware of, because of their introduction of music in their repertoire, was the late Phillip Comeaux and the Modernaires from Lafayette, Louisiana.  Roy Perkins (Ernie Suarez) was the first white vocalist in this area to sing Rhythm n’ Blues live on stage. Roy sang with the band, which was really a swing orchestra. They played orchestrations (we called them “stocks”) half the night, and then the band would switch piano men, and play R & B for the other half.  Roy released a single record entitled “You’re On My Mind” and it was a strong regional hit.
        Bobby Charles, my schoolmate, had just come onto the scene. Bobby wrote a song entitled, “See You Later, Alligator,” that fell into the right hands and became a strong regional hit, and later got recorded by Bill Haley & The Comets and went all the way up the charts.  Fats Domino also recorded some Bobby Charles original songs and they all became million sellers.  These two happenings focused national attention on South Louisiana. After Bobby and Roy led the way, many more local musicians started recording R & B music. It was called Rock n’ Roll at the time.
       The first big blues band I ever heard was "Joe Turner".  The place was Landry's Palladium in Lafayette, Louisiana.  It was a big night club that was divided in two by a big wire screen that went right to the middle of the stage.  One side for adults and one side for kids.  I must admit that after hearing Joe Turner, B.B. King and Earl King with their big bands, I began to like the rhythm 'n blues music a little more.
        The Boogie Kings of the late 1950s were beginning to make a bit of a reputation for themselves by this time. People were falling in love with the Boogie Kings music, and the band was gradually moving into the larger dance halls in the area. The band was in a class by itself.  Rock n’ Roll music in the late 1950s, combined with breakthroughs in integration and civil rights, were changing the whole country. The U.S.A. was kind of divided as to whether this new music had any validity or integrity. Religious kooks were calling this new music, “The Devil’s Music.” I find this fact very revealing about the hypocrisy of some religions. Most of the early rock was based on gospel and love songs. It had really good beats and rhythms that made people shake their hips, angering the religious sects. They succeeded in having many radio stations break rock n’ roll records while they were on the air. This smacks of book burning censorship to me.
But try as they may, the religious opposition was soon to be overwhelmed by the tremendous spread of this new music on a world wide basis.
        I was a teenager in the 1950s, and I’m so happy that I was able to witness the metamorphosis of American music. The early 1950s saw the country as “Mom and apple pie, everyone with a job, a house, a car.” Life was simple. Television was just becoming a part of everyday life. Of course, it was only in black and white. Hot automobiles were the biggest thing in every kid’s life. Very few kids were driving their own car at the time. Families could survive on $50 a week. Everyone was in bed by 10 p.m. and slept with their doors unlocked. There was no serious crime to speak of.  Girls wore long skirts and guys used Vaseline hair tonic. Life was wonderful.  Every kid wanted a '57 Chevy
            The first indication that I got about masses of people going for a different style of music was in the late 1940s. There was a radio station in Del Rio, Texas that had a DJ. that was getting very popular. He began programming a tune called “Skokian.”  It was an instrumental done with alto sax and a Latin rhythm section. The first time I heard it, I thought it stunk!  But all of the kids who parked at the local curb service “Drive In” would strain their ears at night trying to pick tip this remote radio station in order to hear “Skokian.”  The DJ on this Station sounded like an old black lady, but it was really “Wolfman” Jack from Shreveport, Louisiana.  We also fell in love with “Randy’s Record Shop,” a popular program from Gallatin, Tennessee.  The first rock tunes to get on the jukeboxes were “Lawdy Miss Clawdy” by Lloyd Price, “The Fat Man,” by Fats Domino, “One Mint Julep”, “Work With Me Annie” and “Shake Rattle & Roll” by Joe Turner. The kids would play these records over and over again for months on end until a new record would come out. Chuck Berry, Fats Domino and Little Richard and Jerry Lee Lewis were to emerge as the carpenters of Rock n’ Roll music.  Unscrupulous publishers and producers took advantage of the fact that poor and uneducated musicians would unknowingly sign away all of their royalty monies. It is only now that some of the pioneers of rock music are suing for their money. Good luck men, you deserve everything you get. 
        Speaking of Fats Domino, Doug Ardoin recalls an interesting night at the Pelican Club in Marksville, La. The Boogie Kings were scheduled to appear with Fats Domino’s Big Band. The Kings were to open and close the show and Fats was to play in between. So Doug and the band got on stage and opened the show. The Boogie Kings were fired up that night and the first show was incredibly energetic, really firing up the crowd. In fact, it was so good that Fats insisted that Doug sit on the bench with him through his show. So Doug went on stage with Fats and sat on the piano bench with the “Fat Man.” Doug was one proud Cajun kid that night.   He stayed on stage for three or four tunes and then he started feeling conspicuous and he decided to slip off the stage and back into the dressing room. Fats Domino was the king of the Rock n’ Roll scene at that time, so needless to say, Doug was fired up, and this in turn, fired up the whole Boogie Kings band. When Fats completed his show and returned to the dressing room, there was a nice interaction between both bands. The Domino band was very complimentary to the Boogie King’s band. When the great Boogie Kings Band got back on stage they were fired up to a fever pitch.  Add the fact the whole Domino Band decided to stay and catch the last show. When the Kings got started, they played an hour and a half of the most electric, energy filled Rock n’ Roll that the Pelican Club had ever heard. When that set was over, the whole crowd was on their feet applauding like crazy.  The Domino band was on stage shaking hands with the guys, and Fats walked on stage and gave Doug a big hug, shook his hand, and said, “The Boogie Kings are the greatest!”   Doug would remember that night for the rest of his life.
        Even though the Boogie Kings have probably put on some of the greatest stage performances in rock history, it is a sad fact that most of these performances were never recorded.
        I was not in the original band.  I was in college at this time trying to learn how to play jazz.  We had an eight piece band in college that played swing music and very little rock ‘n roll.  My players were Dillard Murrell, Don Richard, Dick Parrish, Ronnie Mayard, Tony and Buddy Cutrera, Errol Amy, Roland Guidry and Terry Bussy.  After that I joined the Air Force.  But fate was to play an important part in my life and draw me towards this great band.
At this time in my life, I was convinced that I would someday be playing on Bourbon St. in New Orleans in a dixieland jazz band.  I wasn't crazy about rock 'n roll music, but that would soon change.

              Harris Miller, Bryan Leger, Norris Badeaux, Mark Jenkins, Doug Ardoin
Bert Miller

              The Original 3 piece Boogie Kings
Doug Ardoin, Harris Miller, Bert Miller

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 2
Growing Up

      I got interested in music at an early age. There really wasn't much to do in Abbeville, Louisiana, population 9308. The biggest event in my life at that time was roaming around town at night throwing rocks at street lights with my buddies. When we would get lucky and hit one, we'd run to the other side of town before the cops would come. I grew up with two brothers, one older and one younger. I was the black sheep; the first to wreck the car, the first to receive a speeding ticket, the first to be arrested, the first to steal something. I guess I was first at everything. My Dad passed away when I was eleven, so my brothers and I grew up virtually unsupervised. My Mom was very prim and proper, but she loved and trusted us so much that we were able to take advantage of her most of the time.  Mom was my life's inspiration, and I loved her deeply until the day she died.  She always encouraged me to play my horn and to never give up on my dreams, no matter what.  She will always be my inspiration.
      I remember the first time that I got interested in music.  It went like this.  One day, the whole high school class was called to the auditorium for a music test. Headphones were used to identify certain tones, at the time I didn't know a high note from a low note, but somehow I passed the test and got into the band.
My Mom, poor at the time, managed to buy me a trumpet, and she surprised me with it after school one day. I am still playing that horn today.  When I laid eyes on that trumpet, my whole world changed. I picked up the horn, put it to my lips, and a sense of power and well being came over me. I knew at that moment what my destiny was going to be. Within six weeks I was playing very well and I was totally motivated. I practiced every day at school with the window open so the other kids could hear me play. I knew that I played well, and I made it my business to learn every popular song of the day.  There was no air conditioning at that time, so all classes were held with the windows open. When I practiced, I would open the window so that all of the students could hear me play.  By my senior year, I had become fascinated with music and I was becoming quite proficient on the trumpet. Music was beginning to change quite rapidly from basic pop and swing to a new black form of music called Rhythm n' Blues."                       
      As I said earlier, the late Phil Comeaux from Lafayette had an orchestra type dance band that would switch from pop to rock. When the band wanted to go into the rock mode, they would insert Roy Perkins on piano, and he would sing and play the Rock n' Roll, or Rhythm n' Blues, which were one and the same at that particular time. I was so fascinated by this band that I formed a group and tried desperately to copy Phil Comeaux's band, which was called "The Modernaires". Phil was gracious enough to let me sit in with his band and learn the ropes.  He even let me copy his rock ‘n roll charts.  My band was called "The Melody Men,", and it reflected the influence of the Phil Comeaux band.  Phil and Roy Perkins never did receive credit for becoming the pioneers of what eventually became "Louisiana Swamp Pop."  Some of my early players were Bobby Meaux on trombone, Ron Mayard on sax, Paul Landry on tenor sax, Kenneth "My Love" Harrington on drums and a kooky piano man named Edwin LeBlanc, "Bugs Frederick" eventually replaced "My Love" on the drums.  It was at this time that I was contacted by Larry Guidry about putting together a group that would specialize in black music. Larry didn't exactly know what we were going to do, but we jammed together a couple of times trying to emulate "Guitar Slim" and Earl King. I couldn't see going too far with it because my head was really into Dixieland Jazz at that time. Anyway, I went off to college, but Larry kept on experimenting with what was called "race music." Larry hired a black vocalist and harmonica player named "Raphael" and his friend Kenneth Theriot on drums and they were able to book some jobs. Raphael was accepted graciously in all of the white clubs, but problems cropped up with restaurants and motels. They didn't accept blacks way back then. Larry came to the conclusion that a white vocalist would be easier to work with. Enter the great Bobby Charles.
      When Larry hired Bobby Charles, things started to click. Within a few weeks, the band had three saxophones and a full rhythm section. This group was called "Bobby Charles and the Clippers." What a band! The sax players were a marvelous trio of college players that included Harry Simoneaux, the late Carlo Marino and Raoul Prado. The Clippers were a huge influence on local music for many years to follow.
      I graduated from high school at the young age of sixteen. I was feeling very confident about my playing. I was very fortunate to beat all the other trumpet players in the college tryouts and soon I had my own group again. We named the band "The Dukes of Rhythm," a name borrowed from Joe Carl.  Joe Carl was a pioneer in his own right The "Dukes" had a short, but very good run for a couple of years.
      I dropped out of college and joined the Air Force in 1956. I  made a deal before I went in, to audition for the band. I lucked my way through basic training by joining the Drum & Bugle Corps at Lackland Air Force base in San Antonio, Texas. My position in the Drum and Bugle Corps excused me from KP and other details, much to my delight. After Basic training in Texas, to my surprise, I was assigned to the 579th Air Force Band in Newburgh, New York. I had never traveled farther than New Orleans to Houston. I was thrilled to be going to New York. The band that I was assigned to was an eighteen piece dance band.  My head was really into big band jazz like Woody Herman, Glenn Miller, Les Brown and big bands of the 30's and 40's.  I was so happy that I was put in a dance band instead of a marching band.
      I took great advantage of my time in two different ways. First, I went to New York City as often as I could,. My favorite spot was Birdland, and my favorite group was Count Basie and his Big Band.  My first son, Thad, was named after Thad Jones, a trumpet player in the Basie Band. At that time, it was my personal ambition to become a great jazz player. I had no idea that I would soon be the leader of a great big band. I practiced my horn very much in those days.
Second, I spent my weeks copying every big band chart that I could put my hands on. At the same time I was writing a book of charts for a Dixieland band that I hoped to form after I got out of the Air Force.  Before I left the Air Force, both of these handwritten books that took me four years to write, were stolen from me.  All that work was lost, what a drag.
      My biggest influence and best buddy was a black trumpet player named Sergeant Ralph Divers, better known as "Prez." Prez gave me private lessons that were a turning point in my life. Thank you, Prez. I love you, my brother.  My other buddy, Airman Orville Fred Lewis, a gifted keyboard player, was my partying friend. One day out of a clear blue sky, Fred asked me if I wanted to go to a "tea" party. I was very naive at this time, so I asked, "What's a tea party?" Fred explained to me that a tea party was a party where everyone sat around and smoked marijuana. When Fred told me this, it blew me away. I had never been around any dope, and I was totally against it. I replied to Fred, I can't believe that you guys are dope addicts." I didn't go to the tea party. I knew so little about pot that I expected everyone who was at the party to have severe withdrawals like I had seen in the movies. Days passed and no one had withdrawals. Finally, I asked Fred why no one got sick. He laughed and told me that pot was not addictive and there were no withdrawals. He told me of another party and invited me to try it. I told him that he was nuts, I was no dope addict and he could take his pot and shove it up his ass. But, as time passed, I noticed that no one ever got sick or hung over. So, out of curiosity, I went to a party, smoked some shit, and except for the giggles, I felt nothing. A few days after that I was transferred to Alaska. Right before I departed for Alaska, I married my first wife, Eleanor, a wonderful woman that I did not appreciate enough.  We had three great kids, Thad, Martin and Bobbi Kaye.
      Alaska was a wonderful experience for me. Besides the wonder and vastness of God's untouched geography, I was lucky enough to be there when Alaska attained statehood. I'll never forget that day.  I was on my way to the cafeteria with my friends Ed SnelI and Sandy Savino when all of a sudden sirens started going off everywhere! We panicked as Ed shouted, "Oh no, they've dropped the bomb!" Then church bells started ringing as we ran back to the barracks, scared to death, thinking that World War Three had begun. When we got back to the barracks, everyone was crowded around the TV set. It was then that we realized that Alaska had just been made the forty-ninth state.  I made some great friends there, but I especially remember a great saxophone player named Jules Broussard.  I think he was from Alexandria.  I knew he would go on to do great things.  Awesome horn man!
      We headed towards downtown Anchorage where a massive celebration, the likes of which I have never seen, was taking place. Everyone was blowing their car horns while bells were ringing and sirens were blasting. Fireworks were going off everywhere. TV cameras were there from every major network, and booze abounded. Thousands of people were in the street and Miss Alaska was perched high above the crowd on a ladder of a fire truck. The celebration lasted through the night. Wow, what a party!  I really enjoyed my tour in Alaska.
      After Alaska, I was assigned to Mitchell Field in Hempstead, New York.  My friend from Alaska, Ed Snell, was there also.  This was a marching band, but there were two dance bands there.  I never was able to get in either band because of a conflict with the warrant officer that was leading the marching band.  He didn't like the way I played, or maybe my attitude.  Anyway, something prevented me from getting in a dance band.  Most of our time was spent in the recording studio, recording marches for Public Radio.  I would play wrong notes on purpose because I was so pissed at the warrant officer.  The only good thing that happened to me while I was there was the birth of my first son, Thad.  Thad was a testy baby, who didn't believe in sleeping much, and it really tested my patience as to whether I was really ready to be a father.  Eleanor and I had a rough time.  We were living in this apartment run by this crazy landlord that controlled the heat.  We almost froze our bones, and we really wanted to get back down south where it was warmer.   My father in- law, who was a senator at that time, pulled some strings and got me re-assigned to Keesler Air Force Base in Biloxi, Mississippi. We drove from New York to Mississippi in a 1950 Ford that I had purchased for a hundred bucks. We broke down once on the way, and spent too much of our cash getting that old Ford fixed.  We had four flat tires on the way, two of them at one time.  If it wouldn't have been for a good natured old timer from Greenville, Mississippi, we never would have made it all the way.  
      I really enjoyed the Biloxi assignment. Biloxi's proximity to New Orleans made it an ideal place for good musicians to work. There were several really good jazz bands working, so I really got my ears full. There was no marijuana around, but I was introduced to my first hit of speed. A friend of mine gave Eleanor and I each a pill one night, right before we went out on the town. I vaguely remember having an energetic good time and partying for two days. My marriage to Eleanor was beginning to fall apart at this time.   We drank a lot of beer in Biloxi.  Too much.
I got a job in a dance band by pretending to play the bass fiddle.  I looked like I knew what I was doing, but it was nothing but a snow job.  I made some good friends there like Chuck Lisman and Ed Lieb.  
      I screwed up one day by missing the bugle assignment at five o'clock to take the flag down at headquarters.  They were not supposed to take the flag down until the bugle played.  I came running up to the flagpole, ten minutes late, on the run, buttoning my  coat, and playing the bugle call at the same time.  The commander didn't appreciate that very much and I ended up with an Article 14 on my ass.  I had to rake leaves for the next thirty days.
      Finally after what seemed like an eternity, I was honorably discharged from the Air Force; so here I was, twenty-two years old married with one child, one on the way, with college and military service behind me. When they let me go, I tied my duffle bag to the back of my car and dragged it till it shredded to pieces.  It is not that I am unpatriotic, but four years of that kind of discipline was definitely not my bag.  
      When I got home, the only income I had at that time was an unemployment check for thirty-five bucks a week. Then my second son, Marty, was born. The year was 1960. 1 found a house to rent for thirty-five bucks a month, so we had a nice place to live.
      I contacted an old college friend, Buddy Cutrera from Opelousas. Buddy was playing with Rod Bernard, a local recording artist, who had just had a million seller entitled, "This Should Go On Forever." Rod Bernard was the first Cajun artist to top the Billboard charts. I talked Buddy into bringing me to a gig with him so I could sit in. Rod's band, the "Twisters" was a well rehearsed razor sharp group. I was very impressed with this band. It was well managed by Rod Bernard, and the music was very nicely arranged. Rod's unique vocal style, and this great band, were the most popular group around. I learned a lot by sitting in with them that night. It was then that I realized that South Louisiana musicians had the talent and skill needed to compete on a national level. I never did get to work with Rod Bernard in those days,  but his influence still helps me in my own quest for fame and fortune. Rod Bernard is a great role model.  His recordings are still selling today on a world wide basis.  I knew I needed extra income, so I contacted my brother, "Kit", who was playing with a band called The Echoes. Kit told me that they needed a sax player, so I went out and bought a sax for five dollars down and I got the job. Wow! An extra ten bucks twice a week. Now, I was rich. I was Living Like a King!  One day in the fall of 1963,  I was with Jerome Verret, the leader of our band, and we stopped in at the Oriental Club in New Iberia to hear a band called "The Boogie Kings".   We had heard some scuttlebutt that they were the hot group in the area. When we walked in, Eloi Dore, the club owner, remarked to us, "You won't believe this band, fellas!". The band came out, started playing, and for three hours, they played the most energetic, precision, well arranged music that I had ever heard. They played their tunes back to back, with no dead space In between each selection. When I left the club that night. I had a whole new outlook on music. I had just heard the greatest band in the world and guess what?, they had no trumpet player. I knew that spot was made for me. All I had to do was to figure out how to worm my way in. It was about this time that one of my beautiful daughters, Bobbi Kaye was born.
      Well, I guess fate plays a part in everything. I met and became good friends with Dan Silas.  Dan was the sax player with a very popular band called "Randy and The Rockets."  I played with Randy on occasion as a substitute and got to know Dan quite well.  We are still close friends today.   Dan stopped by my office at the loan company where I was working for seventy-five bucks a week.  He told me that the Boogie Kings were re-organizing, and were hiring horn players.  Explosions began going off in my head!   This was all that I needed to hear. I knew that they were playing every Thursday and Saturday at a place called the Bamboo Club In Lake Charles.
      After work that day, I went home and told my wife that I was going to Lake Charles to get job playing music.  Of course, this was the last thing that a mother of three wanted to hear, but she reluctantly gave me a green light.   I was very confident about getting hired.  I located the club after asking a few people for directions. I finally found it and went in and listened to a couple of tunes, and checked out the band to see if I knew anybody.  Well, as luck would have it, one of my good friends that I had worked with in the past, Murphy Buford, was playing sax that night.   I was quite nervous as I walked up to the stage and shook Murphy's hand and remarked how great they sounded.  Murphy looked at me and said the magic words, "Hey man, go get your horn!". I said, "Sure, man", and "Thank You Jesus" at the same time.  It could not have gone any better if I had written the script.  After verifying with the leader that it was OK, I got up on stage with The Fabulous Boogie Kings.  Needless to say, I played my ass  off that night.  I wanted that job so bad, I could taste it. The job ended and after the leader, Harris Miller, paid everyone, he walked over to me and put some money In my hand. It was four twenties. I said, "Harris, I think you made a mistake, there are four twenties here." He said, "Don't worry, we're making a hundred and eighty each!"   I almost passed out.  That was more than I was making in two weeks.  I couldn't believe a band could make that much money on a Thursday night.  Then Harris, the leader,  said the magic words, "Hey man, are you looking for a gig?"   Without hesitation, I answered, "Hell Yes!"  I agreed to start with the band on New Years Eve 1963.
Now it was official, I was the lead trumpet player with the greatest band I had ever heard. I was a happy camper as I drove home that night. What a wonderful world!
From this point on I was on top of the world.  Just to be hired to play with the band was the biggest break I ever had.  The band had a few problems, mostly it was booze, pills and sex and rock ‘n roll.  I knew deep down inside that I would be the leader of this band someday.
1965
Murphy Buford, Norris Badeaux, Mike Pollard
Ned Theall
Bubba Marks Bryan Leger, Dan Silas Jack Hall
Gary Walker, GG Shinn, Johnny Giordana
CHAPTER 3



Chapter 3
HARRIS MILLER

A few months before I got in the band, a split-up had occurred. The band was playing  so many gigs that they decided to turn professional,   So Doug Ardoin decided to attend college full time and Bert Miller left the band to form his own group, "The Swing Kings".  Harris Miller inherited the job of leader of the band. Harris was a very different type of person than Doug was. He was much more aggressive and eccentric than most musicians that I have worked with.  On the first job that I played for Harris, one of the guys gave me two pills. I knew one of them was a Desoxyn (speed) and one was an Ambar, a pill that I didn't know anything about.  After taking these diet pills for a while, I realized where the band got it's energy  level. These pills would wire a person up like a Christmas tree. Several of the guys in the band were using drugs during this period.  I can remember staying up for days at a time.  I also didn't eat very much and shrunk down to about 120 pounds.  Harris Miller was a genius on the guitar. I have yet to hear anyone play the instrument like Harris did. He was very innovative, like a white Jimi Hendrix. He did the tune "Bo Diddley" in his own style, working it up to a fever pitch that really turned the audience on.  He would set the echo on his amplifier to repeat about four times and it sounded like four guitars playing at the same time.  Fender amplifiers were very powerful in those days, and Harris would crank it up to the max.  Actually, it was very exciting to hear him play.  It really got the crowds going.  After losing Doug and Bert, the band began rehearsing quite heavily. These rehearsals were for the purpose of learning some "James Brown" and "Bobby Bland" tunes. In order to really do these tunes correctly, Harris realized the band now needed a more heavy-duty horn section with an accent on the brass.A couple of weeks before I was hired, Harris had secured the services of G.G. Shinn, and a honking sax player named Murphy Buford. In late 1963, the band consisted of  the following players; Jack Hall on bass, Harris Miller on guitar, Clint West on drums, and Bryan Leger on the Hammond B-3 organ. Johnny Giordano and Bryan Leger alternated between B-3 organ and bass.  The horn players were Mike Pollard, Murphy Buford, Ned Theall, G.G. Shinn, and Dan Silas on baritone sax. Clint and G.G. did the vocals.
In early 1964, the band was playing primarily at the Bamboo Club in Lake Charles, Louisiana. Norris Badeaux, the great sax player, who had left the band for a while, came back.  When Badeaux came back into the group, the horn section came alive.  We lovingly called him "Bado".  Bado had this tremendous sound on saxophone, sort of like a Cajun John Coltrane that played the blues like no other man could.  Most of his solos were masterpieces and he never repeated himself.  Even though Bado had
the musical mind of a genius, he had the personality of a kid.  He was very modest and kind, but he was as strong as an ox.  He saved my butt from getting beat up several times.  It was a very sad day when we lost Bado to an automobile accident in 1985.      We purchased our first tuxedo when Harris was leading the band.  I remember the first time I rode with Harris Miller to a job. He had just purchased a new Grand Am Pontiac, and he drove me to the gig in Bossier City at a speed of 140 miles per hour up a two lane highway. He scared me so bad that I never rode with him again. I also did not wear those jockey shorts again!  Harris believed in taking risks.  Seriously.
The thing that I couldn't believe is the fact that no matter where we played, it was sold out or it was standing room only, and everyone was having such a good time that none of us realized that we had one of the greatest bands that ever came together. I made up my mind that I would have to figure out a way to get control of this band, a decision that would take me approximately a year to accomplish.
One night Harris booked us at a very popular club near the Texas border called The Big Oak Club for $200. This was way below our normal price, but we played it anyway. Of course, the room was jammed with people and the band was light years ahead of the Texas bands with the possible exception of Jerry Count Jackson and The Dominos. The Dominos had sort of made a home at the Oaks. They made the terrible mistake of playing across the street from the Boogie Kings. They had hoped the Big Oak's crowd would follow them to their new location........... It didn't happen.
  After our first job, Mr. Hebert paid Harris the deuce and complimented us on the music.  He then asked Harris if we wanted to play next week. So Harris told Mr. Hebert that we surely wanted to play next week. Then Mr. Hebert said, "Well, I'll see ya'll next week." To which Harris replied, "Wait a minute, Mr. Hebert, we didn't talk about the price." Mr. Hebert said, "Don't worry, I don't mind paying $200." Harris laughed out loud and said, "We want $800." This immediately pissed off and insulted Mr. Hebert because he had never paid a band over $200. Mr. Hebert told us to pack up and get out and never come back. Well, guess what? He got so many phone calls about the band that he reluctantly hired us again for the next weekend. Mr. Hebert and his sons, AC. and Harris were eventually to become the best friends we ever had.  We played at the Big Oaks every weekend and the crowds were tremendous.  One had to be 21 years old in Texas to purchase liquor, but in Louisiana, one only had to be 18.  The club was located about a half mile from the Texas border, so the kids would come over in droves to get boozed up.  The Texas girls were among the most beautiful creatures that I had ever  seen and I fell in love with most of them.  They, of course fell in love with the band, and it was not much of a task to get them in a motel room after the gig was over.  The bad thing about that is that some of them were seventeen, and even sixteen, and we had to be very careful who we dated.
 As the months passed, I found myself getting more and more dependent on the speed. Before  I was hired with the Boogie Kings, I had a weekend habit. It all started one day when I found a whole bottle of pills in my own medicine cabinet. To my astonishment, my wife had a legal script for Desoxyn, the most popular of all amphetamines. Desoxn was the store name for methedrine, a very dangerous narcotic. It would be hard to describe the rush that I got when I saw all of that dope just sitting in my own medicine cabinet. Add to that a very liberal druggist in my home town who would put a hundred pills in a bottle that only called for thirty. It was all right when I was only doing it on weekends, but now that I was in the Boogie Kings, I found myself taking pills every night. This would prove to be real destructive later in my career. One thing was obvious to me from the first gig that I played with the band, and that was the availability of the opposite sex. I had never been in a hot Rock n' Roll group, so I wasn't accustomed to girls hitting on me. After a gig at the Bamboo a fine looking girl came in the dressing room in a bikini and sat on my lap and got my temperature rising. That was the night I had my first extramarital affair. My family was becoming less important to me as time went on, something that I am not proud of.
So here I was in the greatest band that I could have ever played in, (and believe me, I did count my blessings) females everywhere, great money, and dope all over the place. I was Living Like a King. The Boogie Kings truly lived up to the term, "Sex, Drugs and Rock n' Roll."      We sometimes went  to the Pitt Grill on Broad St. in Lake Charles when the Bamboo Club gig would end. One night, I found myself sitting on a bar stool, next to a gorgeous hunk of a woman who was only too eager to engage me in some healthy conversation. Of course, I was only too willing to reciprocate. I asked her if she would like to come to some of the out of town gigs with me. She was quick to say, "I'd love to."
    So we dated for a while, had a great time at the gigs and had some great motel action. This helped me to keep my weight down. Jeannie had an apartment of her own. It was not until I went over there, that I saw a certificate that identified her as "Miss Lake Charles." That really impressed me.  She had never revealed this to me and I thought it was quite humble of her not to flaunt this title.  I bunked with her for a while, but I eventually had to split from Jeannie. I didn't think that there was a woman in the world that would love sex more than I did, but I was wrong.  We made love morning, noon and night.  It was great for a while, but I must admit, she was too much for me.  She was loving me to death...too often, even for me!  We went to sleep every night listening to Clint West singing " The Twelfth Of Never", which was the first song that I arranged and recorded with the band.
The Boogie Kings were doing so well in Louisiana that the band started receiving offers from other states. One of these offers was from the Tropicana Lounge in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. When the band got this offer, Harris called a meeting to take a vote on the trip. Well, as usual, it was five for and five against. So the vote  carried.  The only problem we had was that the band had just enough money for food and gas to get to Florida. One of the guys made a remark about  the possibility of the club owner screwing us, but it basically went unheard. Who in the world would stiff the Boogie Kings?  Anyway, we loaded up the car, picked up some chicks, made a quick stop at the nearest liquor store, and we were on the way.  When we arrived at the club, we were shocked to see a legal notice on the door of the  Tropicana Club, It read, "Closed for liquor law violation. "We all looked at each other with a "What the hell do we do now?" look on our faces.  We were standing there when we spotted a band on the beach playing on the back of a flatbed
 truck. We hurried over there to see who was playing. It turned out to be the "Classics IV," real good friends of the Boogie Kings.  We had done some shows with them in Monroe, Louisiana.  They told us that the band that was supposed to follow them had canceled out, and they asked us if we wanted to substitute for them. We jumped at the chance to play since we had driven so  far.  At least, we could make hot dog money.  The Classics finished, and we got up and began  playing. Suddenly, people started coming from everywhere to hear us Boogie down.  Within ten minutes, word had spread up and down the beach about this big jammin' Blues band.  People were leaving the lounges to come and check out the action. Within thirty minutes, we had six or seven lounge managers watching us.    When it was all said and done, we had attracted over seven thousand people, booked a six-week engagement at the "Beachcomber Lounge"  on the beach, and got a two thousand dollar advance. I could not believe the dumb luck that we had!  We drew the most incredible, enthusiastic crowds that I had ever seen.  Not to mention, the incredible parade of fine female flesh that came in and out of those doors.  That was a fabulous six weeks, thanks to the incredible Boogie Kings!  Harris Miller, the leader of the band, was getting more eccentric by the day, and I felt that he would push his luck a little too far one day. That day came quickly.      It was 8:40 p.m. at the Bamboo Club in Lake Charles that Harris made a very bad decision.  He left the club twenty minutes before show time and told Bryan that he was going to Eunice, an hour and a half away, to pick up a shirt. When the club owner, Ray Veillion, heard about this, he came over and told us that if we didn't start at nine, we could pack it up. We had a full house and no guitar player.  You know, a rock band with no guitar player sounds more like an orchestra.  That was Harris' last night with the Boogie Kings. We had earlier agreed that no one could be fired without a unanimous vote from all of the other players.  Well, Harris  lost the vote and Clint West took over the band the next day.
After Clint took over the band, I  realized that if he would leave, I would have a shot at being the leader of this great band.  I had quite a bit of influence in the band as I was arranging all of the music that we played.  I decided that I would watch Clint very closely from that point on.  Clint and I would fight it out down the homestretch.






CHAPTER 4
Clint West

    The year was 1964 and Clint West was now the leader of the band. Things were great in 1964.  Gas was cheap, vehicles were inexpensive, and cigarettes were two-bits a pack in most machines.  This year would prove to be very eventful for the band.  The Bamboo Club in Lake Charles was going great guns, as was the Big Oaks Club in Vinton.  Clint West, GG Shinn and Gary Walker were singing with the band.  This would be the last year that the band would be unorganized.  But even as unorganized as the politics of the band were, the performance level was at a peak that would never again be reached.  We were making great money, the groupie situation was fabulous, and there was pills and booze everywhere.  
    We were playing in Monroe at "Smitty" Smith's Dynasty Club on Louisville Avenue and the crowds were terrific.  Some of the pharmacy students would give us pills of every kind.  Some uppers, some downers.  We didn't care.  We would take the uppers to play the gig and the downers to sleep.  We were doing a lot of driving at the time.  We had two vans with the name "Boogie Kings" painted in huge letters on both vans.   We wanted to attract attention.  Norman "Toro" land was our roadie.  He has since gone on to become one of the most successful booking agents in the state.  Some of our fans would follow us to every city that we played in.  
    Clint was a strong force in the band. He was also a wonderful blues vocalist, specializing In James Brown and B. B. King tunes. We had rehearsed the entire "James Brown at the Apollo" album. The Boogie Kings performed this medley of James Brown hits as well as James ever thought of playing it.  Intense!
    Jack Hall moved from bass to guitar and Clint hired Johnny Giordana, an excellent bassist, keyboardist and vocalist. Johnny added a great deal to the band with his playing.  I remember the first time I met Johnny.  He invited us over to his house in Monroe, and while we were there, he broke out a jar of the most beautiful weed that I had ever seen.  We rolled it up, but when we tried to smoke it, everyone broke into coughing spasms.  We thought that it must have been some good smoke to make us cough that much.  We found out later that Johnny, being the practical joker that he was, had us smoking oregano.
    Floyd Soileau, owner of Jin Records, put us in the studio and recorded the first Boogie Kings album. We made a serious mistake at that time by letting the album get released as "Clint West and the Boogie Kings." We should never have linked a singer's name to the band. That has proven to be a thorn in our side throughout the whole Boogie Kings era.  Of course, we had no choice, because Clint was the one that got the record deal with Floyd.  Clint's rendition of "The Twelfth Of Never" is a fine a recording as it represents the best of Clint.
    Some of the vocalists that followed Clint were to take the name linkage and use it as a weapon against the band for years to come. The Boogie Kings have always been measured and described as the sum total of all its parts. In other words, no one individual is responsible for the sound of this great band. It was always a team effort.  I tried to keep it that way, but the public chose to link the singers with the name anyway.
      We were playing primarily at the Big Oaks, the Bamboo Club, the Continental in Beaumont and Paul's Lounge in Bossier City. After the Bossier City gigs, we would all meet at a place called the "Kickapoo Restaurant" and pill talk till the sun would come up.  Again, there were pills floating around everywhere, and the cops were not really aware of how widespread the pharmaceutical drug scene was.  They were busy chasing real criminals.  We were the benefactor of the generosity of all of the local pill heads who loved to share.  
      We were very hot in Monroe, playing for a truly unforgettable man called "Smitty "Smith. Smitty gave me some great advice, as he had been in the club scene for a long time.  He told me to keep my day job.  He had a club called the Dynasty Lounge.  It was in this club that I had some of the greatest times of my life. This is where I met my second wife, Cathie.  The Candlelight Inn in Lake Charles, home of the famous Midnight Skinny Dippers, was my home. It was 1964!
     I had re-arranged all of the tunes for the "Clint West and the Boogie Kings" album. This album is still available in CD format on the boogiekings.com website. but had it been recorded with today's technology, I am sure it would rank as the greatest, purest Boogie Kings album of all time. I thought that Clint's vocal rendition of "The Twelfth of Never" was a classic. The instrumental tunes on this album were some of the hardest hitting numbers that the band ever played. Some examples are, "Oakie, Dokie Stomp," "Night Train," "Boogie Chillun," "Honky Tonk Part III," and of course, "Choo Choo Locomotion," which has always been our theme song.
    The Boogie Kings horn section of 1964 was probably the best honking section that the Boogie Kings ever had.  Dig this lineup!  It included Ned Theall, G.G. Shinn, Norris Badeaux, Mike Pollard, Murphy Buford and Dan Silas. That horn section could blow any other horn section off the planet The late Norris Badeaux was a monster and a genius on tenor sax. It is a great shame that some of his greatest solos were never captured on tape. The man was incredibly gifted. "Bado" as we called him, had a hard jazz and rock sound and the man simply played his ass off at all times.  Mike Pollard had more of a pure rock n' roll sound than the other sax players. His sound on recordings is yet to be duplicated by anyone in this area. Mike has always had the uncanny ability to play perfect harmony to anything. This, combined with his letter perfect solos, set a precedent in the band that still lives today. As this book is being written Mike is still performing occasionally with the band and his contribution to the Boogie Kings will be there as long as the band survives.
    The band was being ravaged by pills of every size and shape. Uppers, downers, and anything else that would make a person crazy. We were slowly drifting toward a band that was driven by drugs. I can remember all night meetings with the whole band buzzing, where we would discuss the most idiotic things over and over. Paranoia and distrust were sneaking into the band as we were unaware that we were all becoming junkies.
    Clint was having marital problems and would miss a gig occasionally, much to the displeasure of the band.  I remember one night in particular, at the Continental Club in Beaumont.   It was nine o' clock and Clint was nowhere to be found. I was sitting on the organ bench, cussing to myself, when this kid walked up to me and asked, "What's wrong?" I looked up and standing there was a skinny little albino kid with a big smile on his face.  If I told the kid, "You wouldn't understand." The kid replied, "Try me."  I said, "Our drummer didn't show up and we can't play without a drummer." To which he came back with, "I can cut the gig."  Laughingly, I said, "Kid, you don't weigh a hundred pounds and you're far too young to understand the music that we play." He repeated in his quiet little voice, "I can cut the gig."  I then said, "You've got a lot of balls son, but for some reason, I believe you.  How long have you been playing the drums?"  He replied, "Well, I'm not a drummer, I'm a trumpet player, but I can cut the gig."  I looked hard at this kid and said, "I've got one more question: What's your name?"  He said, "Edgar Winter."  I told the kid that we would play one number and if he could indeed cut it, he could play the gig.  After talking a very reluctant band into playing with this kid on drums, we began to play the gig.   I don't know why, but I just knew deep down in my soul that the kid could play.  Just as I thought, he played his ass off on the first tune.  We kept going from there and the kid did not miss a lick all night long. In fact, to our great astonishment, he played some tunes better than Clint did. As you know, Edgar has since gone forward to much greatness.
    I was in a position of having the very best of the "rock n' roll, sex and drugs" life and I didn't want to let anyone take that away from me or the guys. The band was now being identified strongly as "Clint West and the Boogie Kings." I loved and respected Clint West and still do, but he should taken his position more seriously.  That would prove to be a devastating miscalculation on his part.
    We were asked to play for an all-black audience at Ball's auditorium. Ball's was a very popular venue, constantly featuring the top black artists of the times. We took the gig. It was on a Sunday and the place was jammed. B.B. King did the first show. We did the second. After Mr. King played, he decided to stay for our show. After we played a few tunes, Mr. Reginald Ball came up to the stage and said Mr. King wants to come up and play a couple of tunes with you guys. Well, the crowd was already going nuts over our music, but when B.B. King got on stage with us, sheer pandemonium erupted!  The more they screamed, the better we played, and the better we played, the more they screamed! When it was over, B.B. gave all the guys a hug and a handshake, and words of praise for the band. He said we were the blackest band that he ever heard. We took that as an extreme compliment.
    Right before Christmas in 1964, the Moulin Rouge made Clint an offer to be a partner and participate in the profits on a fifty/fifty basis. It was presented to the band, and at first it sounded like a good deal.  Clint was to get twenty per cent and the band would split thirty per cent.
    The way the money was to be split sounded strange to me. The thirty per cent that the band was to make had to be split ten ways. This meant that when players would make thirty dollars, Clint would make two hundred. After I put a pencil to it, we realized it was not a good deal. I made Clint aware of the figures, and asked him to take the whole fifty per cent and split it with us. I suggested that Clint take a leader's double share. He, of course, refused, and by refusing, the whole band turned on him.
    We had a band meeting and decided to replace Clint. We would give him an ultimatum.  Leave the Moulin Rouge, and go back to the Bamboo Club, or take a hike.  Once again, the unanimous vote had come down.   I was elected to deliver the message. After our New Year's Eve gig.   I brought the axe down on Clint. He elected to go his own way and part company with us. I was elected as the new leader of the Boogie Kings.  But Clint was not finished messing with us. As a matter of fact, later on he almost whipped us.
Clint formed another group.  In fact, it was a powerful group.  And he went right on using the name, "Clint West and the Boogie Kings".  This would cause much confusion and end up in a law suit later on.


Dan Silas, Murphy Buford, Mike Pollard, Clint West, GG Shinn, Jack Hall, Norris Badeaux
Bryan Leger, Ned Theall, Johnny Giordano      1964
CHAPTER 5



CHAPTER 5
Ned Theall
 
Who in the hell is Ned Theall?  Why did fate cast this little man in this huge role?  Only God knows.  When the dust settled in January of 1965, I found myself in charge of the Boogie Kings program. My life's dream had come true!  I immediately went to work with a passion that still drives and motivates me to this day. I had the challenge of taking this great bunch of musicians and making entertainers out of them.  I knew that it would not be easy, but I was up for it, and I was chosen by the guys, and I damn sure was not going to let them down in any way.  Even if it cost me the job.  You see, every leader of the Boogie Kings had lost the job, and down the road, I would eventually suffer the same fate.
    First, I needed a wardrobe, a must for every professional musician. Second, I re-vamped the whole show, inserting riffs and chasers, and adding an M.C. to the group.  Murphy Buford, a humorous guy, took a shot at it a while.  Later, my good friend Dan Silas was to take over and weld himself into the legend of the great Boogie Kings.
    The band's only competition was a band called "Jerry and the Dominos." We were wiping them out so badly that Jerry gave up his band and called me for a job with the Boogie Kings. I hated for that to happen because we really admired  Jerry's band.  But then again, I was very happy to have the opportunity to work with Jerry.  We had eleven pieces already, but I hired him anyway because of his enormous talent. Jerry fit in right away, after him and I had a few conflicts about the repertoire, but we got on track after a while.
      Rehearsals followed, and I was able to introduce new and better arrangements to the repertoire.  One of the first things I did when I became leader of the band was to quickly release a single record. In those days, it was possible to release one 45 rpm record at a time.   I didn't dare tell the band what I was up to.  I told them that we needed to do a demo tape to assist me in booking.  It was in the back of my mind to try to get a good enough recording that I may be able to make it into a record.  We knew a friend, Charles Bailly, who had a tape recorder, and he offered his help, so we set up on the stage of the Bamboo Club because of the good acoustics of the room. We could only use two microphones, and because we weren't in a real studio.                   
      After a couple of play backs, we realized the tape sounded good, but the background voices were weak. There were about 25 people watching us make this tape, so we invited all of them to come up on stage and sing.  It worked out beautifully. We recorded two songs that day, "The Crying Man" and "Two Steps From the Blues."  G.G. did a superb job on vocals.   I then took the tape to Houston and had a hundred records made. Then I brought one to every radio station in Louisiana, western Mississippi, and east Texas. When I got to Baton Rouge, I asked a few questions and found out where the good rock bands played. It was a place called the Golden Slipper. It was there that I met Vince Maggio, a gentleman who gave us our start in Baton Rouge. This club was later to be re-named the Blue Bull when Bonnie Fusell took it over.  After I booked the job with Vince, a gentleman approached me and said, "I heard the record that you gave Vince for the jukebox. I think you have a hit record. Is that your band?"  I replied that it was, and he said, "I'm Sam Montel.   I've got the #1 record in the country and I'd like to talk to you." Before I left the Golden Slipper that night, I had signed an album deal. God was surely with me that night.  It was nothing but dumb luck that led me right to a record producer.  Radio stations all over South Louisiana began playing the single, and we arranged with Sam to go to Cosimo's Recording Studio in New Orleans and cut the album. The studio was booked for five consecutive days. Sam apologized for not being able to get more time. I told him not to worry, and that we'd probably finish in 3 days.
    To the producer and engineers amazement, we had all of the music tracks done in less than four hours. We got every song down with no mistakes in one or two takes. After the music tracks were down the vocalists dubbed in their voices. Some of the vocal performances were so great that the band and the others in the control room would burst into applause. We finished the whole album in less than eight hours and came up with a product that is still selling today and Is a collector's item on the Boogie Kings website, boogiekings.com.  Little did we know at the time that this recording would still be a best seller decades after it was recorded.   Some of the classic tunes on this album were "Crying Man," "Harlem Shuffle," and "A Change Is Gonna Come." It is called "Montel Presents the Boogie Kings." Pick up a copy at your local record store or at any Boogie Kings performance. This album was recorded in 1965 in New Orleans, Louisiana.  I was ly overwhelmed by all of this and  when it was all over, I drove home and sat in my room crying like a baby.
    I had previously met Jon Smith in 1960 at the Forest Club in Breaux Bridge, Louisiana. I walked into this club, jammed to the hilt, and heard this good Rock n' Roll band called the Rhythm Masters." The band was fronted by "Poochie" Benoit on guitar and the sidemen were Glen Guilbeaux on piano, Raymond Cormier on bass, Joe Thibodeaux on drums, and a most incredible horn player named Jon Smith. Jon was fourteen years old at the time and could blow anybody off the stage. I said to myself, "I've got to play with that guy, he's a genius."
    To continue about Jon. He was, and still is the greatest rock ‘n roll sax player that ever walked.  He was also the most controversial person that I had ever met. His luck was so bad that sometimes it was funny. One night after a Bamboo Club job, Jon came out of the club to find that his brand new Chevy, parked under the light, was on blocks and his four brand new tires were ripped off. Jon almost went nuts. I thought he was going to have a seizure!  The very next week, his car, parked under the lights again, was minus the whole back seat!  Jon again erupted in a fury.  A week later, while riding in the country with Robert Prado, his transmission fell out onto the ground.  I'm sure happy that I wasn't there that day. Phew!
    I had booked a job at an all-black venue called the Casson Street Community Center in Alexandria. When we got there to perform, it was jammed to the rafters. A sea of black people.  Please remember that segregation was still alive, and we were a bit apprehensive about playing for an all-black audience.  But, we had done it successfully several times before.
    The first set was great and the crowd was totally enjoying our presentation. We took a break and Jon and I walked out the back door to his car where we planned to burn one. When Jon opened his car door, he saw that all of his clothes had been stolen. Jon went into an immediate rage, opened his trunk, grabbed his shotgun, and was marching back into the community center.  I shouted, "Jon! Catch a grip, man!" Jon walked in and stood in the middle of the dance floor. As the crowd spotted the shotgun, a dead silence came over them. Then Jon shouted at the top of his lungs, "Which one of you black mother-fuckers stole my mother-fucking clothes?!"  I screamed to Jon, "Put that damn gun down!"  It took about ten seconds for that crowd to vacate the premises. lol.  One would have thought that the building was on fire!  That was a very short gig.  The producer gave us our bread immediately, helped us pack up,  and wished us a speedy trip home.  That was the last time that we ever played at the Casson St. Community Center.
      Things were really good for the Boogie Kings in 1965. We had the best of everything. We all had new cars, a nice place to live and all of the "Rock n' Roll, Sex and Drugs" that we could handle.
    The Beatles were getting so popular by this time that all of the bands were changing their style of music to this new beat. We made a vow that we would never change our style of music, no matter what.  But this new music would eventually put us in the unemployment line. Nevertheless, at the moment, we were still at the height of our popularity. So we didn't worry about the Beatles too much.
    One night, from the stage of the Dynasty Lounge in Monroe, I spotted this beautiful girl amongst the dancers. She was so stunningly beautiful that I had a hard time concentrating on the music.  I have never been affected so much by a woman.  I thought to myself that some lucky guy would be going home with her. Then all of a sudden, as she was dancing with her date, our eyes met and she winked at me.  At that moment, I had the biggest rush that I've ever had.  Could it possibly be that this goddess from Venus could be interested in me?  I was a mass of jelly by this time, but I couldn't get close, because her date had picked up on the interaction between her and me.
    After the gig was over, I stood by the door, hoping to get one more look at this beautiful woman.  Much to my surprise, as she and her date passed by, she leaned over and whispered her phone number in my ear. I didn't even need to write it down.  I was having explosions in my head and my heart was pounding, but best of all, so was hers. Her name was Cathie.  I had to be careful because I was still married at the time and I had three kids that I loved dearly.
      I called her and set up a date for the next week when we would be in Monroe again.  I found out that she was just as interested as I was.  Cathie and I dated for a few weeks, and fell very deeply in love. One night, before our regular Wednesday night gig, I went over to her house and we had a couple of hours on her couch. Up until this point, we had not made love.  I left Cathie's house about thirty minutes before showtime and went to the Dynasty.  When I walked in, "Smitty" Smith the owner told me, "You had better stop going after Cathie, that's too much woman for you."    
     After we began playing, I suddenly realized my wallet was missing. Panic set in when I figured out it was on Cathie's couch.  And in that wallet were pictures of my wife and my kids.  I had told Cathie I wasn't married. When I called her at the intermission, I could tell by her silence that I was busted.  I asked, "Can we talk about it?"  She replied, "There's nothing to talk about.  Come and pick up your wallet when you finish." All I could do was kick my ass and accept it.  I had really blown it big time, before I had even made love to her.  My marriage was pretty much on the rocks at that time.
    When I went to her house to pick up my wallet, she was standing in the dimly lit hallway looking like a million bucks.  I got ready for the sermon and the farewell, but to my great surprise, she said, "Let's go for a ride and talk."  A spark of hope danced through my mind as my heart was thumping like an African tom-tom.  We drove to an abandoned archery range, out of town a ways, in the midst of a group of pine trees. After I stopped, she looked at me and said, "Ned, I love you."  I don't care if you are married.  This was followed by some very passionate kissing and touching, and I whispered back to Cathie, "I love you too, my darling."  I gently eased her white nylon panties off. We made love under the pine trees until the sun came up. When dawn broke, I looked at Cathie and she looked at me and we both knew that we could be separated no longer. I told her, "Let's go pick up your stuff, you're coming with me to Lake Charles."
        After a bout with her mom and a painful phone call to my wife, we broke free from the world and entered the wonderful universe called love.
        We drove back to Lake Charles to begin our new life together. Ray Veillion, the owner of the Bamboo Club, gave me the keys to his camp to use for our honeymoon. Somehow or other, another girl from Monroe, who was a friend, ended up coming with us to the camp. Not only that, she ended up in the same bed with us!  It was very difficult to make love to Cathie with this other female in the same bed as us, but we were in our own world and we had no difficulties.  I thought about making love to her too, but I didn't want to blow it with Cathie.                         
      The days were a little more distracting as this other girl would parade around in a transparent slip with nothing under it, revealing her huge jugs and other assets, if you know what I mean.  But I managed to not get caught staring at her.  At least, I think I did!
        Two weeks later, Cathie and I got an apartment, and spent many incredible days and nights of true love and happiness. These were the most joyous days of my life. I have not been totally fulfilled since that time, and if the truth were told, I think Cathie was experiencing the same feelings.
    Because of the nature of my work, I would eventually blow this great relationship, a situation for which I have many regrets.  But Cathie is happy now, and that makes me happy.  We did have a beautiful child together, my darling Kimberli.
     I'll never forget the first Boogie kings tour, It happened back in 1965 as the Boogie kings headed west for the first time. Funny how it happened.  I had made a trip to Bossier City, Louisiana to listen to a drummer from El Dorado, Arkansas by the name of Bubba Marks at little club called The Peppermint Lounge.  It was owned by Gus Theodus, a great old guy.  As I was sitting there, admiring the drummer, I noticed he was talking to a man in a suit and pointing at me.  So this guy comes up and says, "Hi, I'm Bob Dee.  I'm a booking agent from Nevada."  So, I said, "Yea, and I'm Groucho Marx."  He continued, "No, I'm serious, Bubba tells me that you're Ned Theall, owner of the Boogie Kings."  He said, "Ned, I've been all over the Southern United States looking for bands, and everywhere I go, all I hear is, don't miss the Boogie Kings".  I can't believe I ran into you like this. Would you guys like to go to Nevada?  Well, I thought, if I didn't humor this guy, he'll never go away and I won't get to listen to the drummer. So I gave the guy a card and said, "Five grand a week and rooms, call me."  As he left, I thought to myself, "What a jerk!".  I just about crapped all over myself two weeks later when I received union contracts in the mail with gigs at Lake Tahoe and Reno. When I announced to the band that we were going to Nevada, one would have thought that I was Jesus Christ.  They could not believe it.
       So twelve naive coonasses hit the road for Nevada. .The first engagement that the Boogie Kings had booked out west was at Harvey's Casino and Hotel in Lake Tahoe. We had never driven that far for an appearance, but we were eager and anxious to show our stuff somewhere else besides Louisiana and Texas. So we took off in ten cars caravan style, so we could remain together.  We even had walky talky's so we could communicate from car to car. The caravan held together until the diet pills kicked in and then it became a chariot race to Nevada.  By the time we were 300 miles across Texas, we could see no sign of the original caravan.  Most normal people would take two or three days for a trip like this, but we were determined to drive straight through.  The first 24 hours were no problem, but then funny things started to happen.  One by one, we began to get road weary and exhausted.  We did not realize this, because when we got tired, we'd just pop another diet-pill. (Believe me friends, this was not the correct way to travel).  The road stress was beginning to make us hallucinate.  You would not believe all the strange things that I saw; faces formed in the rocks, rainbows that did not exist, why, I even saw the faces of the four presidents carved into the mountain. The only thing was that I was 2,000 miles from the Black Hills of South Dakota at the time.
    We finally made it to Lake Tahoe, dinged out to the max.  None of us had a wink of sleep. We  figured we'd play the first night and then catch up on our sleep. That's what we thought we'd do, but our agent had scheduled us for a photo session the next day in San Francisco. So, we played the first night at Tahoe (sounded like shit!) and left right after the show for the photo trip. We got there O.K. and posed for pictures all day long.  Then we headed back for Tahoe to do our show for a second night.  Friends, let me tell you, when we left Frisco, the sun was shining and it looked good for the trip back to Tahoe.  When we got about an hour away from Tahoe, it started snowing.  Before long, we had a full-fledged blizzard on our hands, and it was getting closer to showtime. Ten coonasses and a blizzard don't mix very well.  We got about halfway up the mountain and we couldn't go anymore without tire chains. Of course, all of the tire chain stores had lines a mile long. We got in line and after about two hours, we finally were back on the road. So picture this; ten coonasses driving like a bat out of hell, up the side of a mountain, with no experience ever driving in a snowstorm.  Jesus must have been riding with us that night.  We were scheduled to go on stage at midnight. At five minutes till twelve, we arrived, got down and ran through the casino toting our instruments, so red-eyed we looked like crazy fools. But when the curtain opened at midnight, the Boogie Kings were all there alive and well.  We played our butts off that night!  What a band!
     Gary Walker was only seventeen when we were on this tour. Gary could only  peek out of the dressing room door because he was under age. If there were no security guards around, he'd rush out to the slots and play them as fast as he could. Then the security guards would catch him and haul him back to the dressing room. Gary had the misfortune to hit a jackpot on his first quarter. He was hooked after that.  I began to get quite concerned about Gary. I had seen him take a handful of pills, spilling several. I cautioned him about overdosing, but he explained it away by saying he had a high tolerance.  But Gary was going down a path that would take him from us early and we were too blind to see it.  Gary was a super talented guy with a heart of gold.  He loved to tell jokes in a Cajun dialect and he loved to watch cartoons.
    From Lake Tahoe, we went to Reno to perform at the Golden Casino.  It was a nice room with a large stage, and a capacity of about five hundred people.  We did very well in this room.  It was a thrill to see the Righteous Brothers sitting in our audience one night.   After the show, they came backstage and raved about our band.  Bill Medley asked us to do a tour with them in Nevada and we graciously accepted.  We did very well on this tour.
    After we had been in Reno for a while, I got hooked on the slots and blew the whole damn paycheck one night.   I lied and told the guys that I had been robbed right after I cashed the check. Thank God, hey bought it.  I had saved money for a few months before we went on tour and I was able to cover it.  That cured my gambling problem forever.
    Our last night in Reno was the most memorable nights in my life. Right before our last show, (with a jam packed house) I went to collect our money and was informed by the pit boss that some of the players had a fight, tore up the motel the night before, and that we had a lien against our wages and we weren't going to get paid.  This is a true story.  We went back to do our final show and I walked up to the mike and told the crowd that I had just been informed by the casino that we weren't going to get paid, and that we were going to stay on that stage until hell freezes over unless we got paid!  The crowd went nuts and started wildly cheering for us and it got louder with every song. Word immediately circulated around Reno and every musician in town stopped what they were doing, came over to the casino, jumped on the stage with their instruments and we dared anyone to remove us from that stage. Little did we know that we could have ended up in the desert, pushing up cactus.  And we jammed, and jammed and jammed. We had so many people crammed into that theater that the owners, the managers and the cops all put together could not get us off that stage.
    The pit boss, who was the man in charge, sent a note up to the stage telling us to stop playing so that the bartenders, waitresses and maitre'd could go home. We ignored the note and stayed on the stage jamming a medley of tunes that had no end.  The frustrated pit boss kept sending threatening notes to me and I kept ignoring them.  By this time everyone knew what was happening, and they were all behind us, cheering us on. Then all of a sudden it dawned on me that I had some leverage against the club.  I remembered that we were playing for less than scale, and the musician's union was unaware of this.  So I left the stage and went to confront the pit boss.  This was about four-thirty in the morning, the band was still on stage and the pit boss had just about enough of my shit.  I told him that if he didn't figure out a way to pay us, that I would show the musician's union the bogus contract and the hotel would be shut down.  I was actually running a bluff and hoping that he wouldn't call me on it.  Obviously they had run up against the union before, because when I ran my  bluff, he bought it, hook, line and sinker. He took me in his office and counted out my five grand.  We won that round!   Before we left Reno, I had lost the keyboard player, two sax players, a vocalist and our drummer, Bubba Marks left for Viet-Nam.
     We had a devastating surprise waiting for us when we got home. While we were on tour, Clint West had put together a knocked out ten piece band and was still performing under the name of "Clint West and the Boogie Kings."  So here we were back home and broke, minus some major players, and facing a huge uphill battle. The public at large was getting confused, not knowing who the real Boogie Kings were. So for a few months there were two Boogie Kings bands. This was not to last long.
    Clint was about to release the Purple Peacock Album under the name "Clint West and the Boogie Kings." If that had been allowed to occur, it would have been the beginning of the end.  So I slapped a lawsuit on Clint West and set about the task of reorganizing the band.   We hired three of Jerry's friends, Dale Gothia on sax, Gary Dorsey on Bass and Ken Yetman from Boston on drums. Jack Hall was on guitar. The horn section was Ned Theall, Norris Badeaux, Dale Gothia and Dan Silas, the MC for the band on baritone sax. These players hung together for several years and evolved into the best loved group the band ever put together.
I had registered the name "Boogie Kings" to myself before the confrontation with Clint. We easily won the court case, and Clint carried on as Clint West and the "Kings." His album was changed to read the same way.
    The King Brothers, a duet act that opens our show to this day, was formed by G.G. Shinn and Jerry Lacroix.  As well as being great solo acts, putting them together proved to be a real winner.  Jerry and G.G. were the force that put the band over the top.
    One night in October of 1965, Otis Redding made an appearance at the Bamboo Club in Lake Charles. It had been a joyous year for us.  Of course, we went to the dressing room to talk to the great blues man. We were honored to be his backup band that night.   While we were in the dressing room with Otis, he mentioned how tired he was. So I asked him if he wanted an "upper" (our slang for speed). He replied, "Sure, man, I need something." I asked Otis if he had ever had a hit of speed, and he said, "No, but there's a first time for everything."  I told him to chew it up so it would take effect on him quickly.  It was showtime, so we got on stage and opened with , "I Can't Turn You Loose."  Otis came running on stage to a rip-roaring round of applause, mixed with whistles and screams.  He sang his ass off, saturating his pink suit with perspiration.  After his opener, he came over to me and whispered to me that the pill had kicked in and he was feeling great.   Then he sang "These Arms of Mine" and the crowd went crazy.  He must have sung the vamp to that song for twenty minutes.  If I wouldn't have cut the band off, he would have gone twenty minutes more!
       Otis sang song after song that night, and each selection got more intense than the one before. The horn players started complaining about their lips being shot, but Otis went on and on. After three hours the whole band was shot, but Otis, speeding his ass off, wanted to go some more.  Everybody's ass was dragging by this time and I could see that Otis was nowhere near being finished.  I walked over and told Otis about an all night jam session on the black side of town at a place called "Evelyn's Lounge.  He finally closed the show and we all went to the jam session.  Otis was so hopped up of the speed that he burned out the jam session players too! Truly and unforgettable night.
      At the end of 1965, the Boogie Kings were one of the hottest bands in the world. Our records were now being played, and we were getting write-ups in newspapers and magazines everywhere. The future sure looked good!  I was surely Living Like A King!      
     
GG and Jerry were tearing it up on every gig.  They seemed to get greater with each show.  But GG was so great, we knew that he would move on to better and bigger things.  After all, one cannot expect a great artist to split the money twelve ways.  GG would figure that out soon.

GG Shinn           Jerry "Count Jackson" Lacroix    1965


CHAPTER 6
G.G. AND JERRY

    Before I get into GG and Jerry, I would like to make this comment.  The late Norris Badeaux was playing magnificent horn in the mid-sixties. Bado was loved, respected and revered by musicians everywhere.  I remember musicians at Lake Tahoe and Reno paying us nightly visits.  As soon as their gigs were finished for the night, they would come and listen to Bado play his soul.  They would applaud and cheer for Bado every time he'd play a solo.  Bado was a kind and gentle friend and a loving husband and father.  I think John Coltrane would have admired this man.  His genius will always be a legacy to the Boogie Kings, and he will never be forgotten by his adoring fans and family.  We lost Bado in 1985 in an automobile accident.  Rest in peace, my brother.  Your influence on the horn is admired by all musicians.
    I knew that we needed to play in Houston and New Orleans because these cities were major markets.  One gig in Houston was worth ten gigs in the sticks.  So I just drove to Houston with Abigail to find this club that someone had told me was a hot location.  I had no idea where it was.  We drove around Houston for a while getting lost and finally got a motel room.  Unbelievably, when I walked out of the room to check out, I looked across the street and there was the club!  I went over that afternoon to speak to the owner, but he wouldn't give us a date.  I called my friend Leo O'Neil and he told me to go to Van's Ballroom and talk to Van Bevill.  I spoke to Van, and he knew of us, but he said that he had a house band and the only night he had open was a Monday night.  The worst night of the week.  He said that we could play the next Monday for the door if we wanted to.  I agreed to it because I had to get my foot in the door in Houston.  Much to our surprise, we packed that club with over a thousand people and kept that job for years.  
      One night I struck up a conversation with a stranger at the bar. After a brief  with this guy, he asked me where we were getting our weed.  I told him that we didn't buy it, but occasionally our friends would turn us on.  He told me that he drove through Lake Charles every week and that he'd be glad to deliver some ten dollar bags to us when we were in need.  I asked him to brings ten bags to me the next time he came through.  I had not smoked too much at this time, preferring to rely on pills and booze.   I had to keep this from Cathie, who had just become pregnant.   The next week, he brought the ten bags and I gave everybody one and kept one for myself. This was at a rehearsal at the Big Oaks Club.  I didn't know what was in the weed, but it kicked our asses like nobody's business. We played that night and the first set went OK, but all of the tunes seemed too slow and too long.  Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the break came.  We couldn't wait to get out to our cars and fire up our pipes. We got so messed up on that Mexican pot that we couldn't slap our ass with both hands.  My mouth was so dry I couldn't spit!  I went back into the club and as I walked to the stage two or three people asked me what was wrong with my eyes. When I looked in the mirror of the cigarette machine, I realized my eyes were droopy and bloodshot.  From that day on, I wore dark glasses on stage. I made it to the stage and tapped on the microphone with my zippo. This was my signal to the band that the break was over. The only problem with that was that none of the guys were in the club. The only ones in the club were GG and Jerry.  Neither one of them was using the weed.  They stuck to their booze.  The band was still outside after the break was over.  I panicked and went outside and rounded them up.  I really had to coax Bryan, as he was paranoid to the max and he really wanted to stay in the car.  We finally made it to the stage and got everything cranked up again.  It was real shaky, but the crowd never noticed. On about the third song, we heard these god-awful sounds coming from the keyboard.  It was horrible!  When I looked up at Bryan to see what the problem was, I saw that he had passed out and was resting his head on the keys. This cracked us up so bad and we laughed so hard that we could not continue the song.
    G.G. Shinn and Jerry Count  Jackson were at their peak and were performing brilliantly, as always.  Jerry was beginning to have a problem with alcohol, but we were getting so stoned that we didn't mind his drinking.  I had a rule in the band about getting too drunk to perform.  It would cost a player his whole night's pay if I caught them.  I remember Jerry being carried off stage only once, but he could drink a tank truck dry and one would never realize that he was looped.  We were playing regularly at the Big Oak Club in Vinton where we had standing room only crowds.
    One night I got a phone call from Old Man Stewart, who owned the Palomino CLub, which was across the street from the Big Oaks.  He offered us more money than Mr. Hebert was paying us.  I gave Mr. Hebert a chance to match the price and he, of course, refused.  We decided to play across the street for more money. That is, I decided, as I was getting the authority that I needed to make decisions without taking a vote.  The whole crowd came across the street with us, and shortly, a bidding war erupted, a war in which we were the benefactors.   We were doing so well at the Palomino Club that Old Man Stewart wanted us to play on Thursday nights, also.  We were game to try it out, although, week nights in that area were usually very weak.  We  played the very next Thursday and guess what?  Nobody showed up but the band.  This was something that had never happened to the Boogie Kings.  Having two great vocalists like GG and Jerry gave us a little too much confidence.  As I was standing at the front door of the Palomino CLub, Old Man Stewart uttered his classic line to me.  He said, "Ned, don't worry, they won't all be winners." This great piece of advice has stuck with me through my entire career.
    The two years that we had GG and Jerry as a team molded the sound and style of the band as we totally broke away from the old sound of the late fifties and early sixties.  These two guys were so strong, that many of our fans think that this was the "original" Boogie Kings.  They made such a huge impact on our success that it simply can't be measured.  There has never been two singers that worked together as well as GG and Jerry.  The odd thing about them is their contrasting styles.  GG has this sweet, pure, smooth voice with a dramatic high register, and Jerry has a rough, get down and dirty, soulful voice.  But the two of them together would make the most beautiful blend of rhythm & blues music that the Boogie Kings have ever had.  The band was very comfortable and secure as long as they were fronting it.
    The Bob Dee Agency in Reno, Nevada  booked a gig for us at Lake Tahoe in May of 1966.  This was to be the last major appearance of the GG and Jerry team. We looked and sounded good on this gig. The show was as tight as a drum.   It was an unusual situation at Tahoe.  The casino would convert the restaurant into a Go-Go room dance club, and we would perform from midnight to six a.m. every night.   We liked the time slot because, all of the other entertainers would come into hear us after their show would be over. I was so proud of the guys. We looked good and sounded good.  RCA Records signed us to do a couple of demos, which we did, but nothing ever came of it.  Our friends, The Righteous Brothers (Bill Medley and Bobby Hatfield) were doing a show at Harrah's with Jack Benny.  After their twelve o'clock show, they would come over to our room, along with Louis Prima and his group.  They loved to sit in with us, and we were honored to have them.  Louis Prima had been my early idol for as long as I could remember, and it was great to finally get to meet this man.  We had met the guys in Prima's band when we pulled off the all night fiasco in Reno the year before.  The Righteous Brothers really were in awe of GG and Jerry.  We were all very young at the time.  Bill and Bobby have made many public comments about the talent of these two guys.  I second that emotion.  Personally, I have never worked with two geniuses like GG and Jerry, except for the two years that they were in the band.  It was great for them to help to kick off our comeback in 1991.  Night after night, we were blessed to share the stage with them.  I can remember many a night where the tears were falling from my eyes as I realized that I may never again have such a great band.
    I really loved being at Lake Tahoe. A beautiful blue water lake, a mile high in the mountains. I hope to be able to afford to retire there one day.  Cathie was pregnant, and I wasn't having much sex, so I picked up this real fine woman one night and got a room and did a number all night long.  When I woke up sober the next day, that gorgeous woman had turned into a homely skag and I got my ass out of that room as quickly as possible.  It's amazing what makeup mixed with booze does to a man's eyes.!   That was the first time I did Cathie wrong, something I thought I would never do. This was to be my last year with her.  We got married that September, had a baby in November    ( a lovely daughter named Kimberli) and Cathie left me in December. She had found two lids of grass and decided to hide them from me.  The baby had really messed with her mind and the grass sort of sealed the deal.  I had to tear the whole apartment up looking for that weed, and by the time I found it, Cathie and the baby were long gone.
    Right after Cathie split, G.G. gave me his notice. He wanted to start his own group.  I tried very hard to convince him that he was making a mistake, but I knew deep down in my heart that better things were in his future.  An artist with the talent of a GG Shinn does not  need to share the money twelve ways.  My heart skipped a beat as I pondered the future without one of my top guns.   I hated to lose him, but I wished him well.
    Enter Duane Yates.  Duane was on the golf course in Alexandria when he got my call.  We flew him into Houston to make a gig with us at the Bamboo Hut in Galveston   As fate would have it, Duane got laryngitis after the first job.   I was really hoping that GG's exit would go unnoticed, but it was not to be that way.  As we made the rounds of our regular clubs, every single club owner advised me to get rid of Duane Yates.   They didn't realize that he had simply lost his voice temporarily.  Even though Duane struggled with the laryngitis for a couple of weeks and little by little, his voice finally came back.  I stuck with him. I knew he was one of the greats and time would prove me right.  After a trying six weeks, that great big soulful voice popped in and the crowds that were disappointed with Duane were now applauding him.
    Of course, as long as I had the great performer, Jerry Lacroix, I knew that everything would be OK.  Jerry really came through for the band as Duane was nursing his throat.  Jerry could always turn a crowd on anytime that he felt like it.  He has that amazing ability to mesmerize an audience, and God, is he blessed with talent and soul.
      I was at the top of my game in 1966. I had control of a great band, money was flowing, and opportunity abounded. We were poised for success.  We invested a great deal of money on wardrobe when I became leader. We finally had a different color tux for every night of the week. We really looked sharp. Everyone was following the dress code and the band was developing a sense of pride and self-esteem. We had a different outfit for every night of the week.  We were buying tailor made sharkskin suits from Duke the Tailor in Houston.  Old Man Duke loved the band and he went out of his way to make us the sharpest suits in the business.  The show was as tight and as well rehearsed as it could be. The guys seemed to be happy.
     We decided to record a new album, now that we had captured New Orleans and Houston. It was recorded at Sam Montel's One Track Studio in Baton Rouge. We really did not know about multi-track recording studios at the time. The entire Blue-Eyed Soul album was recorded in one afternoon in Baton Rouge. It took us only five hours. The best thing about that album is that it gave me the opportunity to get my original song, "The Philly Walk" on an album. It was later to be released as a single.  When the "Philly Walk" was released, we got a hit pick in billboard and Cash Box magazine, the two leading music publications of that year.  After that, we got hit picks from virtually all of the major rock stations in the East.  Everyone thought that my song would be a chart buster.  That is, everyone except me. I had a funny feeling that something would screw up. My feelings were validated soon afterwards.  It happened this way. Aaron Neville had just released "Tell It Like It Is."  It was a smash.  So much so, that the distributors on the East Coast ran out of single records and they were looking at a three week waiting period from the manufacturer. When Sam and Stan Lewis found out this information, they saw a way to make some quick record sales. Our version of "Tell It Like It Is" was on the flip side of "The Philly Walk."   It was an exact copy of Aaron Neville's version.  In a slick move, Stan Lewis contacted all of his connections, and had them push the flip side of the record. The "Philly Walk" died a slow death after that and we'll never know how many records we sold because we have never been paid.  
    Jim Stewart, top jock in New Orleans, was sponsoring us at the Sands, a hot local club. The "Philly Walk" was on the charts and the band was flying high. We were smoking weed quite heavily at this particular time. The female action in New Orleans was rivaled only by the bikini clad women at the Bamboo Hut in Galveston. We were so popular that we had to be very careful, at least, those who were married.
      Buddy King, one of Lousiana's top disc jockeys, was working many of our gigs. Buddy loved to MC for us. Anyone with the initials B.K. is always welcome on my stage.   The R & B movement of the sixties was in full swing in 1966 and there were many great artists and bands in the South Louisiana area.
    Kenny Tibbs and the Jokers were establishing themselves as one of the premier bands in the area. Willie "Tee" Trahan was blasting out the sax solos.  Warren Storm, Skip Stewart and Rod Bernard were doing quite well with their band, "The Shondells." They hung together for a few years and were one of South Louisiana's favorite groups.Bobby "B" and the Rockers were tearing up the crowds with their Rock n' Roil that featured Bobby "Booga" Page, a very popular South Louisiana vocalist, they are still performing today. "The Glades" from Jennings, "The Continentals" from Lafayette, "Nel Nelson and the Sensations", "TK Hulin and The Lonely Nights",Charles Mann" and his group, "Cookie And The Cupcakes", "J.T. Richard and the Blues Kings", "The Raven's from New Iberia", "The Swing Kings from Eunice", "Clint West and the Kings" from Lake Charles, "Li'l Bob" and the Lollipops from Lafayette, "Johnnie Allan" and the Krazy Kats "Bobby Page" and the Riff Raffs are among some of the top groups of the late sixties.  
    Politics in the Boogie Kings was beginning to be a real problem. A clique had formed between Jerry's boys and my boys.  It was like the liberals against the conservatives. When Jerry wanted to punish me for something, he would perform very poorly, or do some shitty bubble gum tunes that would piss me off.  He really knew how to get my goat!   I was so bummed out by the resistance of the clique, that I called a band meeting at the Big Oak after a gig one night In front of the whole band, I told them that I thought it would be in the best interests of the band for us to stop fighting. I asked him point blank what it would take for us to be friends and work together. He looked at me dead in the eye and without any hesitation at all, he replied, "We don't want to be your goddam friend."  There was no way that I could top that remark, but I let it lay, for I could see no advantage to arguing with them. I knew then that if our ship would get real close to Treasure Island, their attitude would change. The more the drugs took hold, the larger the problem became.  I often wondered why they felt this way, but it was definitely a problem. I was not about war, I was about peace.  Jerry was still mad at me because he had to give up the Dominos in head-up competition.  As with Clint and G. G., I did not want to be Jerry's adversary.  By the same token, I knew that we could not succeed with inconsistency in the band. We had too much to lose.
    One night after a gig at the Dome Shadows in Houston, we heard that Otis was in town.  We rushed over to the club, "The Palladium," and walked in.  There must have been three thousand blacks in that huge club.  Otis was at the peak of his popularity. We all had our shiny green sharkskin suits on.  That huge black audience knew who we were and they treated us very graciously, as they always did.  Otis came on stage and the crowd went nuts.  He was loved by everyone.  I never heard so much noise in my life. When Otis finished his fifth song, he started talking on the mike (something he did not do very much ) and all of a sudden a strange hush came over the crowd.  It was so eerie, so quiet you could hear a pin drop. We turned and looked at the entrance and there stood James Brown, the "Godfather" of Soul.  Obviously, the two stars had never met, because Otis was visibly moved.   A dead silence came over the crowd, and with tears rolling down Otis' cheeks, he said, "Thank you James, you honor me my brother."  After about  ten seconds of silence, the audience gave both of them a standing ovation.  I will never forget that moment as long as I live.  Otis, like a cheerleader got the audience chanting "James, James, James." James made his way through the crowd, jumped on stage with Otis and those two men put on a performance that these Boogie Kings were proud to witness (can I get an "Amen!").  There will never be another performance like we were privileged to witness that night.  Now you know why we still include James and Otis in our repertoire, and we always will.  God bless you, Otis my brother, we will carry the torch for you to the next generation.  God Bless your beautiful soul........
Jerry and Duane proved to be strong enough to compensate for the loss of GG.  Our fans stuck with us and we were still rolling on.  But Jerry's friends in the band were going against my allies in the group.  This would all come to a head sooner than I wanted it to.
Chapter 7
Hollywood


Everything was beginning to jell for us in 1967. We had virtually retained all of  the same players for a couple of years. The band was very tight, and our show was sharper than it had ever been. Dan Silas was doing a magnificent job as the voice of the Boogie Kings. I was always proud to have Dan as the M.C.  Dan is of American Indian descent, and his unique look made him a natural front man. Flashing a beautiful smile, together with his good looks and a command of the English language, gave the band a nice touch of class.
    Duane was beginning to excel as a front man vocalist. His Otis Redding imitations were upsetting crowds everywhere. I can remember nights at the Blue Bull in Baton Rouge where the people would stand on the tables when Duane's set would come up.   Although Jerry Lacroix had the star spot in the show, there were many nights where Duane skunked him.  Together, they were both dynamite.  I always liked for the vocalists to be competitive. It made them work harder.  I must admit that Jerry Lacroix always gave 110% on every gig.  That is why the audiences loved him so much.  Whatever he was like offstage, he was a different person on stage.  The only thing was that he didn't care much, one way or the other, what the goals of the band were.  He knew that as long as he was as great as he was, that no one would say too much.   I often asked myself, ‘Why is it, that the world's greatest white blues singer can't realize that he had the ten best backup musicians in the business"?  Jerry always seemed to be a world all his own, choosing not to  engage in the politics of the band.  I never was one of his favorite people.  I think I tried too hard to gain his respect.  I am happy to say that today, we are close, and the best of friends.  But, unfortunately, at that time, we really had a personality clash that impeded our success.
    I was divorced from Cathie now and I didn't know what to do with myself. I was making money hand over fist Duane and I had so many hundred dollar bills, we didn't know where to hide them! We had gigs everywhere!
     The Bamboo Hut was located right on the beach in Galveston and it was frequented by beautiful girls in bikinis. One evening, a fine looking woman from Houston came up to me on a break and handed me her phone number with a message on it that read, "call me later."  I made that phone call as soon as the gig was over. Sex was so easy in those days. When I went to her place later that night, she answered the door in a very revealing teddy and I knew she was a score.  We made love several times and several ways that night. I dated her for a few weeks and we had a lot of fun together.
    I had so much cash, I decided to buy a car. I selected a brand-new T-Bird, paid seven grand cash for it, and still had a ton of money left over. That T-Bird turned out to be the biggest lemon in the world. But, what the hell, I didn't care because I had a four-track stereo in it to play my Dinah Washington tapes. I was hot on the "Vanilla Fudge" group, and anyone who rode with me to a gig knew that they were in for some good tapes and excellent pot, to which there seemed to be no end.  1967 was the most exciting and productive period in the long history of the band.
    It was in this year that Duane Yates gave some of the most spectacular performances that I have ever seen any white man give. Some nights he would have the crowds so mesmerized, you would have thought he was Elvis!  Even though the vocalists that preceded Duane presented him with an almost insurmountable challenge, Duane more than lived up to it.   He, in fact, surpassed it.   Many people think it was Jerry and G.G. that performed with us in Hollywood and Las Vegas, it was really, in fact, Duane Yates that pulled us through the big shows. With the possible exception of his laryngitis in the first six weeks of his Boogie Kings career, Duane has never, in the thirty years that we have been together, given me a second rate performance. He is the most consistent vocalist that I have ever seen. It is my sincere hope that his hit record is right around the corner.
    When I booked Hollywood and Las Vegas, the band was ecstatic. We all thought this was going to be the break that we needed. Could this be the year of the Boogie Kings?  At last?
     I was still having tremendous problems with Jerry Lacroix. It befuddled me why I could never get this man to be a team player. J erry was one of the greatest white blues vocalists that I have ever heard, but his only agenda seemed to be to abuse himself and the band. I have made some sharp criticisms of Jerry and I have revealed the fact that Jerry and I were adversaries, but there is something I did not reveal. Even though Jerry fought against my programs, and questioned by integrity constantly, I knew that I was working every day to achieve the success that the great Boogie Kings band deserved.  I always thought that Jerry would realize that much of my work was on his behalf. I do want to say, in print, that on any given day, Jerry would put on a performance that could never be equaled by any white man on this planet. It is my sincere hope that some day Jerry might snap and take his rightful place in the Boogie Kings band. Of all the great white soul singers, Jerry was definitely the most soulful of them all.
            We had retained all of the same players for about three years. The band was very tight and our show was sharper than it had ever been. Dan Silas was doing a magnificent job as the voice of the Boogie Kings. Jerry Lacroix had left the band and Duane Yates and Gary Walker were fronting the show now.  I was always proud to have Dan as the M.C.
        Sam Montel suggested that we do a live album at the Bamboo Hut in Galveston. We all thought this was a great idea.  Bert Frilot, a genius in the studio, was selected to engineer the live recording.  We plugged it for a couple of weeks, and on the fourth of July in 1967, we actually recorded it.   Bert Frilot came from Houston with a big stereo recorder and a couple of mikes.   He simply put a mike in front of each speaker.   We were supposed to tape the first show as a rehearsal, and the second show would be an actual tape. Bert  taped the first show and then left with the tapes, not realizing that there was a second show,  and we settled for the tape of the first show.   We never realized that recording would become so much of a classic collector's item.  I was asked to write the liner notes, so I got as stoned as I could, and let the thoughts flow,  If you have ever read the liner notes, you can tell what was in my head at the time. There are some hidden messages in these notes and I wish I could take some of those comments back.  The Bamboo Hut was located right on the beach in Galveston and it was frequented by singers, Jerry Lacroix's superb rendition of "Rainbow 65" will always stand alone, in a class by itself.
        Jerry's last night with the Boogie Kings of the Sixties was a memorable one.  He had been unsettled for months, and to be quite frank, his topsy turvy moods were affecting the band in a negative way.
        One Saturday night, the shit hit the fan!  Jerry knew that I had an extreme dislike for the tune, Bonie Maronie:  So this particular night,  he called that tune on his first show, pissing me off to the max. I don't know why this particular tune got under my skin as it did, but I always thought that a great artist like Lacroix could have picked better material to do.  After the first show, I approached Jerry and asked him not to call that tune anymore because it sucked.   I guess I ruffled his feathers real bad because on his second show, he called "Bonie Maronie" again.   I'm not quite sure whether I was fed up with the tune, or If I was fed up with Jerry, I just know I was fed up.  While the tune was In progress, I started blasting wrong notes as loud as I could right in Jerry's ear. He turned around and stared at me with daggers in his eyes and gave me a look that could kill.  He then put the mike on the stand, walked off the stage and right out the front door, and out of my life, at least for a while.  This was two weeks before we were to leave for Hollywood and Las Vegas.
    The band was shocked that Jerry would quit two weeks before the Hollywood/Vegas gig, but that was Jerry's style.  It seems so trivial now, that we would play those mind games with each other.
    The Boogie Kings toured California and Nevada in the Summer of 1967.  This was right after we had recorded "The Boogie Kings Live at the Bamboo Hut."  We were especially apprehensive about making this tour, because as usual, the band was in chaos and internal battles of the ego abounded.  We decided to take the tour, despite the fact that we had just lost Jerry.  However, we were fortunate enough to sign the great Gary Walker, who had worked with us many times before.  Duane was now holding down the star spot, a spot that he richly deserved, and had worked very hard for.
        Once again, we struck out for the West Coast, not knowing what fate had in store for us.  To tell you the truth, we needed a break from the Gulf Coast night club scene.   
    We played San Francisco first.  This was right in the middle of the hippie revolution, so needless to say, we looked quite formal in comparison to the rag-tag appearance of the hipple psychedelic bands of the time;  but we stuck to our game plan and kept on pumping out our Louisiana style of Blues.  I think they liked it in San Francisco because we got a lot of dates with some wild ass women, (those of us who were single). The club owner, Don Zirilli, was happy and we had a couple of weeks of after-hours partying at the club.
        We heard about a big Jazz Festival in Monterey, California.  Janis Joplin, Otis Redding and Jimi Hendrix were featured artists, so we decided to take it in.  We were big fans of all three of them.  Janis was from Port Arthur, and I wanted to apologize to her for not letting her sit in with the Boogie Kings, a couple of years earlier.  At the time, none of us thought that she would amount to anything.  Wrong!   We also wanted to say hello to Otis Redding, who was a very dear friend that we had performed with in Lake Charles.  When we got there, we looked up Janis, and found that Otis was in the same tent.  After some fast talking, Duane, Gary and I were able to get a backstage pass and we found Janis' tent.  To our surprise, Janis and Otis and Jimi were sharing a joint of some knocked out California weed.  They invited us to share and introduced us to Jimi Hendrix, who was an up and coming force in the rock world.  Jimi told us that he had been hearing good things about the Boogie Kings and said he would catch a show when we got to Hollywood.  That concert turned out to be one of the greatest concerts ever held in California, and we stood on the     
side of the stage during the whole thing.  Wow, what a memory!
        After the Monterrey Jazz Festival, we headed for the Sunset Strip in Hollywood.  This was our big chance to see where we stood In the music capital of the world.  The first night we performed in Hollywood was very strange.  They danced to our fast tunes, but no one danced to our slow tunes.  We learned later that if one plays on the strip, slow music will put the audience to sleep. We  reluctantly changed our entire show and began playing nothing but fast tunes and boogie stuff.  That seemed to do the trick, as night after night, the celebrities started coming in. It began with Glen Campbell and Bill Medley and Bobby Hatfield (The Righteous Bros.) and then came the Buffalo Springfield, Sam the Sham, Roy Head, and Berry Gordy, Jr. with Motown.   Everybody loved it and we were back on top again.
    One Friday night, the club owner Tony Ferra asked if we would like to play at the Hullabaloo, which was a teenage nightclub and television show in Hollywood.  Tony said, "If these kids like you, you'll make it all the way."  We were up for the challenge and accepted the gig.  When the curtains opened, there were about three thousand kids in this auditorium, hungry to be entertained. We started the show with our usual theme and played a couple of Kings Bros. selections, but we couldn't generate anything but polite applause. I remember thinking to myself, "Could it be that we got this close to the goal line and fumbled the ball on the one yard line?"  We were looking at each other with a feeling of helplessness, playing our best material, and could not seem to upset the crowd at all.  In a moment of frustration, we decided we had nothing to lose, so I asked Duane to sing "Try A Little Tenderness" a slow, real emotional blues song, and the way we were feeling must have come out in the song.  Duane lived up to it and sang one of the most soulful renditions of that tune that I ever heard a white man sing.  It was chilling!  When that number was over, the crowd was on its feet, applauding and screaming like there was no tomorrow.  Every song we played after that was greeted with the same reaction. When the curtain came down, ten coonasses were hugging each other with alligator tears rolling down their cheeks. That was the finest hour that the Boogie Kings of the Sixties ever had. The players that performed that night will never forget it.  Duane and I decided to live the whole Hollywood experience. We each got an apartment on Hollywood Boulevard. We were positive that we would be discovered and propelled into a world famous act.
    All of a sudden, from out of nowhere, the new star of the show, Duane announced that he was quitting. This all came about because one of the record companies had convinced Duane that he could be a star without the band.  This follows the pattern set forth by G.G.. and once again, we would have to rebuild our show.  Anyway, I wished Duane good luck and I called Little Alfred, a great soul singer from Lake Charles. We put him on a plane, flew him to Hollywood, and he worked with us the very night after Duane left.
        We made an attempt to change the name of the band to "The American Soul Train."  The "Buffalo Springfield," a very popular group hired the horn section to play on their second album, "Buffalo Springfield Again."  Also, we managed to salvage a deal with RCA and we were put in the recording studio. These recordings were only demos.  Gary Walker and Little Alfred each recorded about four tunes.  This was the period where Duane had quit for a while, so he missed out on this recording session.  But we still had not signed a contract.
        After a few nights of sitting in the audience, Duane realized that people were still cheering and applauding the band, just as before.  Add to this fact that big record deal fell through, Duane had a change of heart.   The word was out all over Hollywood about the Boogie Kings and celebrities were coming out and supporting us tremendously.  Everyone who knew us wondered why we didn't sign a major record deal at this time.  We had offers to sign with Columbia, RCA, MGM, and Motown to name a few.   The only problem was that the Boogie Kings voted on everything.  All of the record companies wanted a seven year minimum contract. The coonass mentality in the band, convinced the guys that seven years was too long a time period for us to be tied up. I was trying to convince the guys that seven years with a major company could give us nothing but a world of fame and success. But the negative side of the band prevailed, and we would leave Hollywood with no record deal.  We passed up the best opportunity that the band ever had, much to my regret.  I lost a great deal of my enthusiasm at this time, and ended up back on drugs.  We were never again offered a major record deal.
      Duane finally came back to the band. We finished up the Hollywood gig on a very successful note and headed for Las Vegas.  Our gig was at the "Pussy Cat A-Go-Go" on the strip. This was the hottest Rock n' Roll club on the strip.  We were to follow Ike and Tina Turner and precede "Sly and the Family Stone."  These were two of the most popular acts in Rhythm n' Blues at the time.  It was the strongest competition that we had ever faced.  I was very anxious to see how we would fare against big time professional competition.  The first few nights were rough. Gary Walker contracted laryngitis, or as it was called, "Vegas Throat." Finally, after a few days, we started to come together again and we began to be accepted by the Vegas Crowd.  The band was no longer doing "speed" or "amphetamines." I had quit through my own will power. No one was using hard drugs, everyone enjoying a milder cannibas high, and a few beers.
Apparently, all of this did not satisfy my players.  A band meeting was called two days before we left Las Vegas.  Jack Hall made the announcement.  He looked at me and said, "Ned, we've decided to replace you as leader and continue as a co-op band."  This hit me as a ton of bricks right between the eyes. It was the last thing that I expected to hear.  I could not believe that after all of my trials and tribulations with this band, that they would turn on me like a snake.  I was stunned, and I thought surely that I had enough votes to survive this challenge.  So, I made my statement, which went, "I don't know what more I can do for you guys than to book you in Hollywood and Vegas for top money. What's the fucking problem?"  I told Jack Hall that I'd like to take a vote myself. I took that vote and was very embarrassed to find that everyone, with the exception of my good friend Dan, voted against me.  Still undaunted by the mutiny, I felt entitled to ask for a reason for this stupid move.  What had I done to make all of these guys hang me out to dry?
    I went down the line and asked the guys one by one for a reason. None of the guys could give me a reason until I got to Gary Dorsey.  He very calmly stated, "You're an ass hole!"   I immediately broke into a fit of laughter, and when I picked myself up off the floor, I looked at Gary and said, "You're absolutely right.  I am an ass hole, and that would be the only reason that I could accept."
On that fateful night,   I was removed as leader, the Las Vegas gig was over, and the band headed back home. Over the next couple of years, the band would struggle to stay alive.  But I was not finished yet.  I was really dazed and confused after the band turned on me.  I wondered if I had what it takes to continue after I was demoted and humiliated in front of my band.  I really doubted that the Boogie Kings could survive as a co-op band.  There was just too much chaos, drugs and ego trips.  But I decided that I had enough clout to put another group together with some strong players and that I would prove to them that they had made a huge mistake by trying to destroy me.  My mission was not completed, and I had to go on.
Dale Gothia, Norris Badeaux, Bryan Leger, Ken Yetman, Dan Silas, Jack Hall, Gary Dorsey
Duane Yates, Ned Theall, Jerry "Count Jackson" Lacroix
CHAPTER 8



CHAPTER 8
"What's Happening" -
Duane & Rosemary

     On the way home from Vegas, Duane and I had an unfortunate accident. We were robbed of all of our Boogie Kings tuxes, and all of my other clothes, also.  We were very road weary, and we had decided to stop at my girlfriend Jessica's apartment and rest up for a couple of days.  Jessica was happy to see us again.  She was more than happy to have us stay with her for a couple of days.  When we went to the car to get our clothes, there was nothing there but a clothes rod.  We felt so stupid.  It happened as we stopped to eat somewhere in the remote area of west Texas. We were so fucked up, we didn't realize that we had been robbed until we got to Houston.  We wondered what we would do at the next gig without anything to wear.  But, because of the English music invasion, the hippie revolution and the fact that everyone was growing beards and long hair, we reluctantly decided that we would drop the Boogie Kings wardrobe. We opted to change the dress code in favor of everyone doing his own thing.  That didn't work out at all.  If you could picture ten cajuns in mod clothes, you would get a huge laugh.  The guys bought some hip clothes and tried to look cool, but the truth was, we looked very much out of the tradition of the Boogie Kings.
     Jack Hall tried valiantly to keep the band on a successful track, but I knew the odds were not with him. Up until this point, every leader since Harris Miller had gotten the axe.(Including me)   Jack was to be no exception to this precedent.   It is a daunting task to ramrod ten cajun musicians.  Because Jack had made it a co-op band, there was no leader's double pay anymore.  It was a tough job.  The Boogie Kings, after all of these years, seemed to be like a huge ship adrift at sea, with no rudder.  Jobs were getting fewer and the pay scale was going down.
     It was in this re-adjustment period that the Kings hired the great tenor sax player, Jon Smith.  I was still in the band, but I was feeling like an outcast.  Jon and I had been friends for many years, and I had a great admiration for his skill as a horn player. I still to this day have not heard his equal.  After hanging around with Jon, we came up with a plan to start our own group. We convinced two of the singers, Duane and Gary, to come with us.  I told Jon that I would not make the move unless Duane and Gary signed a five year personal management with me.  They both agreed and signed with me.  So in a bold and dramatic move, I announced to Jack Hall that I was quitting, and I was taking Duane, Gary and Jon with me. I knew that I was doomed anyway.  This was the heart and soul of the Boogie Kings sound, and our move left the Boogie Kings weaker and more vulnerable.
     We hired a rhythm section and got permission from the Hebert's to rehearse for two weeks in the Big Oak club. After fourteen days of intense rehearsals, we had put together a great show, far better than anything that the Kings could come up with. We named the band "What's Happening" and it was a happening band. And it would get much better.
     The Boogie Kings, in the meantime, had hired James Anderson, Little Alfred and Linda Clark ("Rosemary" McKeithen).   This was some formidable competition.  Linda Clark was an outstanding entertainer. We admired her performances greatly.  For a while, it seemed like Jack would survive the walkout by my guys.
     My new band arrived at the Dynasty Club for our debut gig to perform for "Smitty" Smith.  When we arrived at the club in Monroe to set up the stage, Smitty came over and told us that we were in serious trouble. He had been contacted by the cops. My motel room in Lake Charles had been searched on a tip by the desk clerk.  Some marijuana had been found.  Smitty told us that he had convinced the cops to wait until the gig was over to arrest us.  So here we were, on a cold night in February, all the work and rehearsal was about to go up in smoke. What a drag!
     When we found out this appalling bit of news, we had Darrell Cox, our roadie, take our cars one by one to be washed and vacuumed. We finished the gig, loaded up, and got about two blocks before all hell broke loose!
Police cars came from every direction, lights flashing and sirens howling. It looked like the night that "Baby-Face Nelson" got busted for seventeen murders.  We got locked up and the next day the Monroe paper read "Dope Ring Smashed!."  We did not consider ourselves criminals, but rather, musicians in the pursuit of happiness in a free country.  But, in the eyes of the law, we were considered as dangerous criminals.
     It was funny when they took us to jail.  We all had long hair, and the prisoners whooped and hollered and whistled at us when they took us in!  It would have been real easy to give up music at that time.  It would take weeks to get back to normal.
     On this cold February day, we had lost everything and we were broke to boot. But as crazy as we were at the time, we got out of jail and went out and bought a bag of weed and took up right where we left off.  We also hired a good lawyer named Camille Gravel.  He was the governor's lawyer at the time and a big fan.
     While all of this shit was happening to us, the Jack Hall Boogie Kings were getting it together and sounding good.  My new band had lasted only two months.  The year was 1968.
     Not to be defeated, Jon and Duane and I, the only three of us left, decided to hire some more players and start rehearsing the "What's Happening" band one more time. We just could not give up and admit defeat.  We hired Bobby Ramirez on drums, Johnny Soul, Ken Herpin and Ronnie Folse. They formed one of the finest rhythm sections that we ever put together.  Bobby Rameriz was one of the greatest drummers that ever picked up a stick, God rest his soul.
     Duane had been dating Linda Clark, who I know as "Rosemary."  She left the Boogie Kings and joined us in our battle to stay together.  Gary Walker decided not to come back after the bust.
     It's funny how life is. When we started playing again, we achieved an unbelievable degree of popularity. The drug bust had been in all the newspapers and it actually made us heroes instead of bums in the minds of our fans.  The Louisiana and Texas crowds were rallying around us like never before.  At the same time, our band was evolving into a psychedelic soul band, the only one of its kind.  We added a light show to our high energy band, mainly to get more visual.
     Jon Smith was playing better than I had ever heard him play. We recorded four instrumentals, two in a swamp pop vein, and a couple of psychedelic styled arrangements.  The swamp pop tunes were done on alto sax by Jon with Ned playing a supporting role.  We selected two beautiful Louisiana hits, "I'm Not a Fool Anymore," and "Nothing Takes the Place of You."  The psychedelic instrumentals were "Eleanor Rigby" and "Bang, Bang."  Four damn good cuts, if you want my opinion. Jon's solo on "Eleanor Rigby" was the finest solos that he ever played on alto sax.  At last, we were back on track with a solid show. At least….. we thought so.                   
    We were having a great deal of success in Baton Rouge playing at the Coconut Grove for a man named Martin Paul.  We played there every Tuesday and Wednesday night and the club was always jam packed with college kids. Roy Shaw was one of our greatest fans.   Roy is a major music distributor now.  We always played for the door money, and we were doing great.   It was the winter of 1968 and we were booked at the Grove for New Year's Eve, and we expected the door money to be very substantial.
        On the afternoon of December 31, we went to the club to set up and Martin Paul, the owner, came up to me and told me not to worry about putting a man on the door.  I told him that I always used my own man at the door on door jobs. He then told me that we were not getting the door money that night, but he was going to give us a flat price of a thousand dollars at least.  I said, "Huh?"  I told Martin Paul that we wanted all of the door money.  That was not our deal and he had no right to change the deal at the last minute.  This enraged him and he shouted at me, "This is my club and you will play for the price that I want to pay."  I looked him dead in the eye and said,  "Find yourself another band, mother-fucker."   I knew it was too late for him to get another band.   At this point, he pulled a gun on me and said, "You will play tonight or else!" I glared at that man with all of the hate that I could muster up. I must have looked up the barrel of that gun for a good sixty seconds.  Then I said, "You don't have the nuts to shoot me, Martin Paul."  I turned away and started for the door, praying that he would not shoot.   I made it out of the door, thank God, and went back to the motel room.  At about eight-thirty, with his club loaded with people, and no band on stage, he reluctantly called me at the motel, and in a very apologetic tone of voice, he said, "Ned, you can have the door money, come and play your gig."  We split thirty-eight hundred bucks that night.   Happy New Year!
        Shortly after New Year's,  I got a call from one of my friends from Lake Charles. Kay told me that she had some LSD, and she was bringing me some.  Everyone was experimenting in the sixties, and we were no different.  At the first break, Jon and I went outside with Kay and we both dropped acid for the first time.  By the time the gig was over, Jon and I were zooming.  It was all we could do to make it back to the room. It was another world and I was not enjoying it. LSD is not my thing.
    After we were in the motel for a few minutes, the phone rang. It was Darrell Cox, our roadie.  He told me that a gang of thugs had just been to his place and beat the hell out of his old lady.  He also said that they were headed for the motel trying to find Ned Theall.  Jon and I panicked!  We did not know it at the time, but Darrell was playing a prank on us.  Thinking the thugs were coming, we decided to go sit in the restaurant, where some people were, until the danger subsided.  The thugs never showed up, but we drove the waitresses nuts as we tripped in that restaurant for about nine hours.  They were certainly glad to see us leave at eleven that morning. Bad trip!
    Duane and Rosemary (Linda Clark) were a team that was hard to beat.  They were electrifying performers on stage.  At the Coconut Grove in Baton Rouge, we were drawing SRO crowds.  People would sit in front of the stage ten rows deep, focused intently on this great band.  It was great to be on top again, and it seemed like nothing could go wrong now.  Once again I was living like a king!  We were still awaiting trial, but we had a great deal of confidence in our lawyer.
    Then, out of a clear blue sky, Duane and Rose started to get "cosmic" on us.  Overnight, they both went through a complete change of persona and attitude. They were sure acting strange.  At the height of our popularity, with the band wailing like never before, Duane announced that they were quitting the group and moving to Vegas to pursue a career over there.  Trials and tribulations once again.
    So, we regrouped one more time and kept things together using Gary Walker, Luther Kent, and believe it or not, Clint West.  Not too long after that, the phone rang and it was Duane.  Duane had a gig booked in Las Vegas at a club called "The Psychiatrist."  He wanted us to be the house band.  Before I had left the Boogie Kings, I made a bet with Jack Hall that I would make it back to Vegas before he would.  When the contracts came in, we hauled ass for Las Vegas. I was happy to be going to Vegas before the Boogie Kings, after the way I was treated, It was nice to win something for a change.
    The Psychiatrist turned out to be the hippest club in Vegas.  It was a Rock n' Roll palace where celebrities would gather after their shows to unwind and relax.  We were featuring Clint West, Duane Yates, Rosemary and the great Luther Kent.  Nick Farkas, outstanding B-3 organ player, had joined the group after Gary Walker left.  The owner of the club was involved with cocaine and would frequently take musicians into his office and bump them up so that they would perform more energetically. Pretty soon Jon and I put our big noses into that deadly white powder.  Johnny, our bass player, was hitting the speed pretty hard. I noticed that he would sit alone in the corner and suspect that the whole band was talking about him.  I had seen these symptoms before, so I figured that Johnny wouldn't be around long.
    At the peak of our show, with everything going great guns, Duane and Rosemary decided to "retire" from show business. So once again, we were at the mercy of the singers and they were hanging us out to dry.  I said to Jon one night,  How long are we going to let front people destroy all of our work and effort?  We've got to depend on our own talent and stop letting our future be controlled by crazy egomaniacs."  Jon totally agreed and he replied, "Some day, Ned....... some day." …………….That day has finally come.
    The band busted up after that due to a lot of reasons. We had nothing going for us in Vegas anymore, so Jon and I headed for Hollywood. We arrived in Hollywood with about $500 between us. The plan was for us to find a band that needed a couple of good horn players.
    We knew Stu Gardener very well, so we sat in with his group at a club in Hollywood called the Haunted House. (Stu Gardner went on to become Bill Cosby's musical director)  Stu did not need any horn players, so we went to another club where some friends of Jon's from New Orleans were playing.  When we got there, they were on a break, and Jerry, the horn player, invited us to accompany him to the rear of the club to share a doobie.  As we passed the doob around, Eddie, the trumpet man, gave us each a couple of "Christmas Trees" (Tuinal) which of course, we promptly swallowed.  The plan was for us to sit in with the guys. Jon and I got up on stage with the group, and in the middle of that first song I felt my knees go weak and the room started turning around. The gist of it is, those pills kicked our ass and we played so bad, the club owner asked us to get off the stage!
    Still, not discouraged, we went to the local restaurant where all of the musicians hung out.  Skip and Flip, two local singers, told us about a wild party that was happening in the valley.  So we hopped in the car and followed Skip and Flip to the party.  A beautiful girl answered the door, invited us in, and told us to leave our clothes at the front door.(Big mistake)   Then the girl gave us each a couple of "reds" that we didn't need, as we were still weaving from the "Christmas Trees".
    The next thing I remember is trying to wake Jon up so we could get the hell out of there. We finally found our way back to the motel and decided to drive back to Louisiana.  We packed our shit, loaded the car, and walked to the front desk to pay the bill. We both reached for our wallets simultaneously, and we must have sounded like a duet as we both said, "Fuck!" at the same time, in harmony.  Apparently the party was a set-up to rob us because both of our wallets were gone.  We felt like a couple of fools, as we had to call home for some money to get home.  After hassling with Western Union for our money (we had no I.D.) we finally hit the road for Louisiana.
    When we got to New Mexico, I noticed a cop making a U-turn and following us. We had a lid of grass in the car and about ten hits of speed.  Thinking that he would pull us over, I swallowed all of the pills at once.(Another big mistake)  We pulled into a gas station, went to the restroom, and stashed the lid in the trash can. When we got back on the road, just as I suspected, the cop pulled us over.  Thank God, we had ditched everything, because he did search my car.  I guess it was the long hair that made him stop us. We lucked out that time. I was very fortunate not to O.D. from the pills.  I was still awake three days later.
    It was November 1968 when we got home.  We were defeated and drained.
At this time, I was so loaded on drugs that I did not even worry about the future.  I didn't realize that I was destoying myself. I just kept on getting high and not thinking about it.  Because of a wonderful and generous mother, I would be able to survive all of the turmoil that was in my life at this time.

Ned Theall  1967
CHAPTER 9
Chips Ahoy

    The year was 1969.  Jon and I were back in Cajun Country with no gig, no money and no band.  Since we had been to the bottom of the well many times before, we knew there was only one thing to do.  Put a band together!  We knew that we couldn't put a band together with no contracts and no gigs, but as luck would have it, a booking agent from Boston called just in the nick of time. He had some February gigs in New England that paid good bucks.  We, once again, set about the task of organizing yet another band.  We hired Benny Graeff, one of our good friends, who played great bass.  Ken Herpin was still reluctantly hanging on.  His wife, Bonnie, agreed to sing with us. This was the fourth "What's Happening" band in only two years.  Robert Vernon was our new drummer and Nick Farkas was the B-3 organ player.  Gary Walker was hired on vocals and Linda Walker (Gary Walker's wife) and Darrell Cox's wife teamed up with Bonnie Herpin for a backup trio.  Jon and I were the horn section. We re-named the band "Whispering Dust and the Secret Dog."
    We needed a place to rehearse the group, so we rented the Rathskellar Club in Baton Rouge for two weeks and locked ourselves up with some speed.  Two weeks later we had a show. Not the best show I've ever had, but nevertheless, it was a show.
    I had a new girlfriend.  Gwen would hang with me through eleven years of turmoil.  She was the type of female that would always get her way, being a beautiful platinum blonde with green eyes.  A lovely combination.  Let me tell you how cunning and smart Gwen was. We were not in a relationship at that time.  At least, I thought we weren't, but Gwen had other plans.  Behind my back, she had called the booking agent and after flirting with him on the phone, she booked herself on the New England gigs as a go-go dancer.  I had told her earlier that she wasn't coming with us.  She wasn't going for it.   I hesitantly decided this was okay, and we loaded up and headed east. I had no speed to help me drive, but I made it all the way non-stop, with only 82 cups of coffee.  The closer we got to Boston, the colder it got.   It was eighty-five degrees when we departed from Baton Rouge.  When Gwen and I arrived in Boston it was zero degrees!   I had never been in such bitter cold. I froze my balls off!  We were like two zombies when we arrived in Boston.  We looked all over for a cheap motel and finally found one with a weekly rate.  Most of us stayed at the same motel, which was owned by an Italian character named "Mario".  We finally got situated and rested for the night.
    The next morning, to our great surprise, we woke up to find that we could not open our motel room door.  There was snow three quarters of the way up. After struggling with it, we finally got it open only to find a solid white blanket of snow on everything.  All of our cars were buried and we had a difficult time finding them. We actually had to dig them out. This was something we were not accustomed to.
    When we would leave to go somewhere, Mario would knock on our room doors, hoping to make some time with our old ladies.  He would always say in a singing voice, "It's Mario"!  Of course he struck out everytime.  I guess his wife wasn't giving him any.
        Gwen was a fantastic cook. She took an electric skillet with us everywhere we went.  When she would cook, Mario could smell the food and he snooped around, trying to find out if we were cooking in the room. When he'd ask If we were cooking, we would always hide the skillet and tell him no. But you could smell Gwen's rice and gravy for blocks.  Robert Vernon actually had a big Labrador dog that he kept in the van.  People that would read the "Whispering Dust and the Secret Dog" sign on the side of the van would often peek in the window thinking that the lab was the "secret" dog. But there was no secret dog. That was just a name that Mike Pollard or one of his friends made up.  
    The first gig was at some dipshit club in Everett, Massachusettes.  Gary Walker was the lead singer.  Good old Gary, he could always make us laugh.  I don't think he ever had a down moment in his life.  Because of that name, he came up with one of the funniest routines that I've ever seen. It would crack me up every time he would do it. Gary would be on his knees singing Rainbow ‘65,  and we would black out the stage. While the lights were out, he would slip on a rubber dog mask and on a pre-arranged signal, he would raise his head and start barking and at the same instant I would hit the strobe light.  We would flash this for about two seconds and then go black. As the people would begin to figure it out they would crack up!  Gary Walker had a wonderful sense of humor, and was never egotistical for one split second. I had a very high regard for his genius. Everyone who ever worked with him lost something when Gary Walker died. Rest in peace, my brother. I love you.  We will always sing your song.
    Benny Graeff was the only one in the band that didn't have white trousers. That was our uniform.  White trousers and whatever.  I drove Benny down to the K-Mart one day and I told him to go in and buy some white trousers. Benny went in and came out with some khaki, tan trousers.  I asked him, "Where's the white trousers?"   Benny looked at me and delivered his now classic line, "Ned, one hundred bucks a week, you get khakis.  Two hundred bucks a week, you get white trousers!" I never did get Benny in white trousers, but he did play his ass off.
    By some quirk of fate, the "Jack Hall" Boogie Kings happened to be playing in Boston at the same time that we were in that area.  Even stranger than that,  was the fact that after a cancellation, we ended up playing at Teddy Venus' club, the Downtowner, and guess what band we followed?  Of course, the Jack Hall Boogie Kings!
      The Downtowner was located in the center of Boston's "Combat Zone," so named because of all the shootings that had occurred in this area.  It was actually a topless bar with bands.  It was hard to reach the audience because of the proliferation of female breast exposure.  It was also very hard not to lose our concentration up on that stage!  Musicians were treated like dogs in Teddy's club.  During our intermissions, we could not stay in the club.  They made us go down to the boiler room where it was hot, steamy, and dirty.  I remember looking at Jon Smith one night and remarking, "What the fuck are we doing here, man?  Let's go back home and re-think this shit."
     We made one more engagement at a place called "Luther's", but the combination of snow, bad gigs, and a healthy score of downers that messed with our brains,  finally made us decide to return home to Louisiana.  I was broke, defeated, and desperate again when I got home.  
Benny Graeff quit the band and so did Kenneth Herpin.  That was the end of the great "What's Happening" band Part 4.
     I farted around for a few months with no direction. The Jack Hall Boogie Kings were dying a slow death.  Chester Carr, a slick promoter was helping their situation along.
     I got a phone call from Duane Yates in May of 1969. Duane and I still faced drug charges in Lake Charles.  After inquiring about how we stood with Camille Gravel,( our "Perry Mason")  Duane asked if I could bring some players to Vegas.  After what we had been through with Duane and Rosemary the first time around, I really had to think hard about getting myself beat up again.  I hesitated, but having nothing going for myself, I got some players and headed once again to Vegas to pursue our elusive dream.
Getting back to Duane's phone call, he said we could stay at his rent house while we put a band together. This sounded like a pretty safe situation to me. I was still with Gwen and had managed to hang on to my ‘67 T-Bird.  We had just enough money to get there. In fact, I reached Vegas with thirteen bucks in my pocket.  When Gwen and I arrived in Las Vegas, after a grueling trip, we moved in with Duane and Rosemary.  They had a nice house, but the utilities were shut off, and we had no air conditioning or hot water. It was 115 degrees outside.  I could not believe that anyone could live this way, but we were hurting and we had to survive the best way that we could. No one had any drugs of any kind at this juncture.  Kenneth Trahan, our friend and hairdresser, was living with Duane and Rosemary, and about six of us house guests. We had no food or money, so we were forced to steal food or starve.  We tried a few rehearsals, but that went nowhere.  Gwen and I were just about fed up with everything around us and we had nowhere to turn.  We needed money and we needed it fast.  We were desperate, frustrated and hungry and we wanted to get out of that situation. 
             We moved in with Jack Clark and his wife Drucilla, after they graciously offered to rescue us from the pits of hell.  I was very happy to get away from that sad situation.
        Before we moved in with Jack and Dru, we rode around Vegas in the T-Bird and regrouped our strategy.  I had no band and no money, but Gwen wanted to work.  As we rode around,  Gwen told me about a conversation between herself and Druscilla about chip hustling.  I knew about this game because Dru had told me about it the year we played at Lake Tahoe.
        Let me reveal to you the way that chip hustling operates. It takes two people to be partners.  A beautiful woman, which Gwen happened to be, is used as bait to entice rich guys to hit on them.  The woman sits at a bar in a casino, all decked out, intermingled with the hookers. The woman is actually posing as a hooker, but really has no intention of ever going to the room.  The objective is to snare a rich old guy  that will sponsor the woman at a gambling table.  After the initial step, where the old guy hits on the woman at the bar for some room action, the chip hustler enthusiastically accepts the offer, but suggests that they gamble a while first.  The chip hustler accepts the old guy's room key to give him the impression that he will end up in the sack with her.  The backup (usually me) watches from a distance, never losing sight of the couple, just in case something goes wrong. As they gamble, the casino gives the old guy free drinks. (The chip hustler does not drink anything but sodas).  This gives the advantage to the chip hustler, who must be on her toes at all times. As the chip hustler gambles with the old man, she steadily diverts the large chips ($25 to $100) into her purse.  A skillful and talented woman like Gwen could make as much as three thousand dollars a night.  She seldom came home with less than a thousand. If the old guy wants to go to another casino, the woman insists that they go by cab. It is dangerous to be in a car alone with a stranger in Las Vegas. Of course, as the night progresses, the old guy keeps pressing for the woman to accompany him to his room.  As the events continue, the chip hustler goes to the ladies' room, where the backup usually is, and lets him know what hotel they are going to.  It is important for the backup to have the chip hustler in sight at all times.  Like I said, it's a dangerous business.
        Gwen was so skillful at chip hustling that she never got caught .The pit bosses knew exactly what she was doing, but they could not catch her. Gwen was double jointed and had such skillful hands that she could make a chip disappear like a professional magician!  She used a purse that was smaller than a man's pocket. (Pit bosses look for large purses.)  This little purse would be stuffed with nothing but kleenex so that the chips would not make a clicking sound as they accidentally on purpose fell into her purse. She had her shit together. If she got too many chips, she would excuse herself and head for the ladies' room, where I was standing close by and hand me the chips. She would go back for more and I would hold the excess chips and cash them  the next day at a different casino.  Getting back to the strategy, the old guy inevitably says, "I'm done, let's go to the room."  At this time the chip hustler agrees, but says that she would like to stay with the old guy, who was usually very drunk by this time, all night. She then suggests that she go to her place, a few minutes away, for an overnight bag and a freshen-up kit. The old guy, most of the time, will like this idea.  At this point, he still does not realize that he's been had!  The chip hustler tells the mark that she has the key and she will meet him in the room in a few minutes, and the old guy goes to the room and plays with himself and waits, and the chip hustler simply walks out the front door and takes a cab home, not to return, knowing the old guy would be going home in a day or two.
    Gwen got to be so proficient at this game that she was able to support us for a few years while I tried in vain to find something to do with my life.  I was getting tired of Vegas and I was too strung out on drugs.  I really missed my kids and I didn't like being so far away from them.  I didn't want to see them in the condition that I was in.
In the meantime, the United States put a man on the moon, and the Jack Hall Boogie Kings band disbanded.
Just as I had predicted, the Boogie Kings could not survive without a strong leader.  No one was doing the booking, making the phone calls, and no promo was being sent to venues.  The big miscalculation that the band made when they fired me is that they thought the phone would ring automatically and the gigs would never end.  It just doesn't work that way.  A bandleader must work tirelessly every day to promote and book a band, no matter how great they are.


Dan Silas
Norris Badeaux, Mike Pollard
Bryan Leger, Gary Walker, Murphy Buford
GG Shinn, Jerry "Count Jackson" Lacroix
Ned Theall, Bubba Marks, Johnny Giordano
1965
CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 10
Las Vegas

     Gwen was making fantastic money on the strip.  To her, it was like plucking feathers off a duck.  We were able to afford a lot of nice things and were living quite comfortably.
     Gwen's son, Deno, and I became very close. Deno was a hip-looking blond and blue-eyed young man.  He looked just like his mother.  I would stay with him at night while Gwen was working the strip.  We had many good times together and he came to regard me as a big brother figure in his life.
     Gwen had found a screwy doctor, whom I will call Dr "K." This yardbird would write scripts for any female that would ask.  I didn't know what went on in his office, and I didn't really care.  All I wanted was the script.  It was so easy to get legal drugs, that I got more addicted than I already was.  I had a serious drug problem at that time. My drug of choice was Tuinal and I was taking up to six pills a day, a very dangerous dosage.  The more self-esteem I lost, the more drugs I would take.  My memories of this time period are kind of fuzzy.
     Bobby Ramirez called us from Port Arthur and asked if he could stay with us for a while, in order to find some work.  We both loved Bobby and offered him the extra bedroom.  . Bobby (deceased) was the greatest drummer that I ever knew. He played in the "What's Happening" band for a while and later went on to play with Edgar Winter's White Trash.  Bobby and I got very close during those months.  I got a chance to know him really well.  He was a good natured soul and always had a smile on his face. While Bobby was living with us, Gwen got pregnant, and had a miscarriage. I regret her losing the baby, but we really did not need a child.   I guess it was for the best.  I was losing touch with music, and also reality, as I slid deeper into my addiction.
     Bobby eventually got a gig with Dick Jensen, a popular Vegas entertainer. The International Hotel (now the Hilton) was being built, and the talk of the town was that Elvis, Tom Jones and Barbra Striesand were the stars that would open in this huge casino.        
     Kenny Yetman, who was the drummer with the Boogie Kings in the mid Sixties, moved in with Gwen and me after Bobby left.   Kenny was drinking very heavily and was looking for work. We helped him as much as we could.  Kenny was a hell of a nice guy, even when he was drinking.  
We were beginning to have landlord problems.  We lived in the apartment on top of his and my new stereo was driving him crazy.  The bass would thump on his ceiling so hard, it would constantly piss him off.   We decided to move out of the apartment and into a house in order to have a little more privacy.  We found a nice little house on Bourbon Way.  It was a roomy three bedroom house and it suited our needs perfectly.
         Shortly after we moved in, I flew my two sons, Thad and Marty, into Vegas for a visit.  I was so lonesome for them, and I wanted to show off in Las Vegas.   It was a joyous and memorable day for me when I picked my kids up at the airport in my red Cadillac convertible, and with the top down, I drove them down Freemont Street where all the bright lights were.  The kids were mesmerized and I felt like a king.  It was important for me to look good in front of my kids. I felt at the time that they would never see me in my glory, on a Boogie King's stage. But, you know, your kids will love you, no matter what. We had a great two weeks together and I was really proud of how my sons were turning out.  They seemed to be very well adjusted.  
        Some of my friends were living with a musician who was growing some illegal plants in his yard.  They got paranoid and ended up at my house.  They should not have told me where the plants were because those plants all ended up at my house.  You'd be surprised at the people you meet climbing a fence at three a.m. in Las Vegas.
     Our house got real crowded after that.   We were helping Jon Smith, Ken Herpin, Cal Arnold and Gary Walker.  They were all broke, and it was getting tough to support all of these guys.  We needed our privacy back, and it was a burden on Gwen, so I concocted a story that the cops were watching my house. Since we always had drugs of some sort, that cleared everyone out immediately!
        Shortly after that we managed to get a gig at the Palomino Club in North Vegas. It was a topless-bottomless club, so needless to say, we didn't care much what the job paid.  A lot of scuzzy people used to hang around this club.  Naked women can draw a crowd anywhere!  I don't know that I ever saw a straight or sober person in that place. One night on a break, a friend of mine offered me a snort of white powder which I assumed to be coke or speed.  Like a dumbass, I snorted it.  When we got back on stage, the whole room started turning around on me.  I had never felt this way before. I didn't want to get sick on stage in Las Vegas.  It would be too humiliating.  All of a sudden, I fell to my knees with everyone watching.  Try as I may, I could not get off my knees.  I was on the far left of the stage, but the dressing room door was on the right and it looked a thousand miles away.  With everyone watching, I crawled across the stage to the dressing room and rolled down the steps into the dressing room.  The crowd was hysterical and that white powder turned out to be my first and last taste of heroin.
        The Palomino band was called "White Trash," a name suggested by Jon Smith and later used by Edgar Winter. The band was seven pieces and some of the players were Gary Walker, Ken Herpin, Ken Yetman, Cal Arnold, Nick Farkas, Jon Smith and myself.  It wasn't much of a band.  With all of the boobs and beavers, we couldn't concentrate much on the music.
        After a while. Duane Yates paid me a visit.  He had been doing some shows in L.A. with Robert "Doc" Vernon and a rhythm section that consisted of Terry Dickson, David Holiday, Doc and a bass player.  It seemed like no matter how much shit went down between Duane and Jon and myself, we would always come back together, seeking the security of each other's talent.  Anyway, they came to my house one night before they were to open at the International (Hilton) Hotel and Casino, with a proposition.  They offered me a deal. The job called for three horn players and Duane and Doc had no parts written or arranged. They wanted me to write all of the parts that night so they could have a five o'clock rehearsal the next day.  I looked at Duane and said, "Dream on, mother-fucker. I'd have to have a Desoxin or two to take on a task like that."  Doc looked at me and said, "Open your mouth and grab your pen, we've got a show!" He then shoved two Desos down my throat. The music got written, I got the gig, we rehearsed and we were on stage the very next night.
     Duane and Rose were married now, and members of the now defunct Cosmic Lite Church. They had been living in the desert for a few months, trying to get close to nature. A gang of rattlesnakes had convinced them that nature was a rough deal.
     Duane and Rose were singing wonderfully on the show at the International, even though the band was virtually thrown together.  Jimmy Honeycutt and Pat Anders from Shreveport were in the horn section with me. We had some great times.
      We never did draw much of a crowd at the International. We were competing with Elvis and that was like competing with Jesus.  Everyone who visited that hotel had an Elvis Presley priority!  We got to see Elvis many times, thanks to the light man.  We would go up to the light booth and walk a gangplank that went to the light booth in the main room, where Elvis was appearing.  We would just sit on that gangplank and watch his show.
I felt sorry for Elvis.  They say it takes one to know one.  I could tell that he was stoned to the max.  He would forget his words, his speech was erratic, and he was weighing over 200 pounds.  To be quite frank, Elvis Presley looked terrible.  He would sing a few bars of his hit songs and there would be so much yelling, applause and whistling that he could not finish any of his tunes.  Elvis set attendance records at the hotel that will never be broken.
     I didn't have the Boogie Kings anymore, but I was in Vegas at the largest casino in town, and we were sharing the billing with Elvis.  Pretty damn good, if you ask me.
    After the casino gig, I was contacted by Dan Silas, one of the Boogie Kings, for a gig with Timi Yuro.  Timi was a spaghetti queen who had a 4 chart busting singles, including "I'm So Hurt."  She followed that with two or three more hits and became world-famous.  Dan hired Jon Smith, Johnny Giordana and me and a drummer friend named Mike McGriff.  Mike was the funkiest drummer in the world. He was part of the Stu Gardner Trio with Mel Brown, famous Blues guitarist Stu is now Bill Cosby's music director.
        Timi Yuro was taking a lot of downers, and was subject to faint or pass out at any time, on stage or off.  But she was a great vocalist anyway.  We were playing at the Castaways, one of the smaller casinos, but the showroom rivaled any other in town. Timi and Elvis had come up the rock n' roll ladder at the same time and they were the best of friends.  One Thursday night, Timi's brother came backstage and told us that Elvis was in the audience. This started everyone buzzing and we wondered if it was actually true. Much to our astonishment, when the curtains opened, we could see Elvis and his entourage in the far corner of the showroom.  Word got out that Elvis was in the room, and little by little, the room started filling up. Everyone wanted a glance at Elvis.  Pretty soon, his bodyguards had to remove him from the premises as the audience was turning into a mob. It was an exhilarating experience for us Cajun boys.  We were a long way from the swamps of Louisiana now!
    But the night was young.  After the show, Timi asked Jon and Dan and me if we wanted to go to a party at Elvis' penthouse suite.  We all registered an absolute affirmative on that question.  My heart was pounding like an African tom-tom as we took the elevator to the penthouse.  When the elevator opened, we saw six or eight men by the door.  These were huge men and we could tell that they were packing some heat.  They knew Timi and let us right in.  There were fifteen or twenty people in the room, mostly gathered around Elvis and his guitar.  Elvis loved to get fucked up, and sing spirituals to his friends.  Of course, no matter what condition Elvis was in, he was always admired by everyone.  The kitchen table was a massive array of drugs of all kinds, the likes of which, I have never seen again.  I did not care about the drugs, I wanted to speak to the King.
When Elvis finished singing, a black pianist took over, and Elvis spoke to his guests one by one for a few minutes each.  I thought it was very gracious of him to share his time like this.
     When it was my turn, he shook my hand, and then he blew me away when he said, "Boogie Kings!"   I could not believe that he knew about my band. He said, "Ned, I used to hear you guys play in Monroe when I was a kid. I have all your records. That was a fantastic band. Sorry to hear you guys aren't together anymore."  He shook my hand again and moved on.  I was paralyzed!  I could not move, I couldn't talk and I couldn't think.  I had just had a conversation with the greatest entertainer the world has ever known.
     Gwen and I had enough money now, so we bought a brand new Cadillac.  We were very proud to drive it right off the showroom floor and onto the downtown strip.   At this point in time, I was truly "Living Like a King."  I used my VA loan to buy a two story home, two blocks from the Las Vegas Strip.  It had an Olympic size swimming pool and four bedrooms and four bathrooms.  It was a gorgeous home.  Today, that same house is worth a million bucks.  Wish I could have kept it. No question about it, I was "Living Like a King."
Gwen and I would eventually hit bottom again and lose everything we had.
Ned Theall,  Jon Smith  1995
CHAPTER 11

XI
The Downfall

    I was beginning to think that the good life in Vegas would never end. However, I was about to go into a twenty year downhill slide that almost defeated me. I met a young guy who was hanging around a band that Gary Walker and Doc Vernon had put  together in Hollywood.  His name was Steve, and unknown to me, he was a coke dealer.  Gary's band was called "Gumbo" and It was In this group that Gary Walker did some of his finest work There are still unreleased recordings of Gary that I put on CD and they are available on my website. (www.boogiekings.com)
     Getting back to Steve, he flew in from Hollywood, where the band was based, and stayed with Gwen and me for a while.  The first thing Steve did when we got home from the airport, was to break out an ounce of coke.  Of course, I Immediately put my nose in it, and from that day on, I began to lose everything I had worked so hard for.   I became seriously addicted, and I began to lose my judgement.  I got suspicious of Gwen, and I turned on her for no reason. Then I went to the bank, drew all of my money out; and moved into a fifty dollar a week motel, right off the Las Vegas strip.
        The first night that I was in the motel,  I had a visit from Linda, a friend's ex-wife. We laid In bed for a while, and talked about Gwen.   Linda was wearing a very sheer mini-dress with nothing on underneath. Linda and Gwen had been lifelong friends, so I wasn't sure If I should make any moves on her.  She made my decision for me, as her hand traveled up my leg all the way to my zipper.  I knew right then that I was going to make out with this tough looking mama.  My heart sped up, and my temperature rose as I felt my trousers being unzipped.  The next thing I knew her head was on my crotch and I was experiencing some of Linda's talents that I never knew existed.  She took her time and brought me to an explosive orgasm that almost knocked me out.  What a night!
     Shortly after that, I ran out of money and coke, and I went back to the big house and got back together with Gwen.  She had run out of money and luck, also, We decided to get back together, sell the house and drive back to Louisiana.  On the way home, with both of us having withdrawals, we decided to go our own separate ways. Unknown to Gwen, I had been speaking to Cathie, my second wife, about reconciliation. We had been separated for sIx years and I thought I still loved her.  I decided to go straight and try to make a decent life for myself and to prove to Cathie that I was worthy of her love and respect.  This was an impulsive decision, as I was still reeling from my drug addiction.  
     I went to work for a mobile home company after a meeting with my friend,  Johnny Soul, who was a company manager.  My first months selling mobile homes went extremely well.   I was top salesman in my district and top ten In the whole country. I wondered if this was luck or skill.  I was sent to manager's training in only my fourth month in the business, something that usually took a couple of years.  After six months, I was promoted to regional sales manager.  It seemed like I could make it after all in the straight world.  So Cathie and I got back together after being separated for six years.  Our love had been so strong that we thought it would work again.  But, at least I was home, and I could see my kids again.  I was losing touch with them, and I really felt guilty about it.
     We moved to Houston with our daughter, Kimberli,  who was now six years old,  and we thought that we could rekindle our lost love.  After about six weeks of being back together, we both realized that we had changed, and we were no longer right for each other.  So, with sadness In our hearts, we mutually agreed to set each other free once again.  I never loved anyone the way I loved Cathie, and I will love the memories till the day  I die, but we lost It somewhere along the way.
Not long after that, I got demoted to lot manager for one of the worst lots in Houston. It was three mIllion dollars in the hole and they expected me turn to turn things around!   Get real, this was an overwhelming task, too much for me.  I got really stressed out and my paycheck went down to nothing.  I was not on drugs or alcohol at this time.  So I quit and joined my friend Darrell Cox at Mobile America in Houston.
     While I was at Mobile America, I received a phone call from Homer Pillsbury, a promoter from Beaumont, Texas.  He asked me if I wanted to play at at a Boogie Kings Reunion  that he was promoting.  He offered me a hundred bucks, which I considered an insult, so I declined the offer.  I was really pissed that Homer had beaten me to the punch, because I wanted to promote the first reunion.  I called my brother, an attorney, immediately and told him to register the name Boogie Kings to me.  It took me several years to obtain the trademark, but I eventually got total possession of the Boogie Kings name.  That was the best move that I ever made.
     I should have gone to Homer's gig, for it turned out to be a huge success.  I was happy and sad at the same time.  But at least I realized the Boogie Kings' name still had much value.  I sent a warning letter to Homer advising him that he was using the name illegally.  Homer ignored me and did a few more successful reunion gigs.  It pissed me off that he was using a counterfeit band.   I really felt like this was unfair to the guys who had spent many years in the band, building the name. I also did not want the name to be dragged through the mud.  Some of the shows that Homer put on were nothing but Imposters with GG and Jerry fronting the show.
     T.K. HulIn, one of the greatest vocalists that South Louisiana has ever known, was enjoying much populaiity.  In the seventies, T.K. was the only artist that had a successful big band Including such great players as Norris Badeaux, Ron Lormand, Jimmy Drouet, Pat Smith and Alvin Dugas, to mention a few.  Ron's charts and Badeaux's saxophone solos were a key element in this band that was absolutely wonderful. Belou Hulin was kicking the shit out of his drums.  What a great band this was!  And of course, T.K. was one of the best singers to ever come out of Cajun Country.  
The Swing Kings were enjoying much success at this time. Some of the players were Bert Miller, Harry Simoneaux, Bubba Boudreaux, Earl Taylor, James Stelly, Dickie Landry and M.J. Juneau. Their recording of "Mr. Dream Merchant" is one of the finest cuts that I have ever heard.  It was arranged by Ron Lormand, a trumpet player that I have always admired and respected.
     Duane, Rose, Dan and I made an attempt to put a Boogie Kings band back together in 1972. We failed miserably as we had no money to promote and book.
     Jon Smith and Jerry Lacroix were in the "White Trash" band with Edgar Winter and their platinum album "Roadwork" was topping the charts.  Most of the White Trash band were ex-Boogie Kings.  The only difference in Edgar and me is that he made it, and I didn't!
    G.G. Shinn had replaced the lead vocalist in the "Chase" band. Their vocalist had split when the song "Get It On" went all the way to No. 1.  Sound familiar? I knew Bill Chase personally.  He was a brilliant trumpet player and a great person.  I went to the first rehearsal of the band "Chase".  I remember it well, because Bill forgot his mouthpiece, and I loaned him mine.  G.G.  did the vocals on "Chase's" second album.  It was a masterpiece of an album, but it did not go anywhere.  Shortly after the second album was released, Bill Chase was killed in a plane crash, and the world lost a great trumpet player and a wonderful man. Rest in peace, my brother.  G.G.'s big opportunity was delayed by an act of fate.  But he was lucky not to be in the plane with Bill.
     Jon Smith, Dan Silas, Duane Yates and I made another attempt to put the band back together in 1975.  We put together a dynamite show featuring a budding young female vocalist named "K.J." She was simply great, and the crowds loved her. We made it for about three months, and after going broke again, we gave up and parted company.
     The next few years were a struggle for me. I made a living, but I could not get ten cents ahead of the rat race.  I hoped and dreamed that someday I could get my Boogie Kings band back, but for many years, it would elude me. I felt like my lifelong pursuit to make the band successful was over.  I just went from one job to another.
I worked a few gigs with Johnnie Allan, the King of "Swamp Pop" music.  My good friend of fifty years,  Harry Simoneaux, helped me when he could.  Harry and I have always played beautifully together and I really enjoy working with him.  Harry is an original pioneer of Rock n' Roll music and was my first major musical influence. Harry helped me to do some album work with Johnny Allan in the eighties.  I will always love and respect this man.
     I was now living in Lake Charles, Louisiana.  I got into a band called "Pzzaz" with my friend, Ron Fruge.  His brother, "Bro," played bass and "K.J.", his sister, sang with the group.  We rehearsed that band very much and did quite well at the Lakeview Club in Lake Charles, Louisiana, right on the beach.   
    After the "Pzzazz" band fizzled out In the late seventies, I opened a disco, and much to my surprise, It was a resounding success.  My friend, Johnny Vee, was my partner.  To show one how my luck ran, six weeks after I opened, two young boys were murdered one night after leaving the disco. This ruined my business and shut me down. So here I was, knocked out again.  Or at least an eight count.   So what?  By this time I was getting accustomed to being a loser.
        I would work for a while, and then draw unemployment compensation for a while.  Prices were going up on everything, especially gasoline, but musicians were making the same wages they had always made.
        The "White Trash" band had busted up and regrouped in 1978 to do their third album, "White Trash Recycled." This band did not last long because there was still a lot of animosity and hard feelings that were left over from the first White Trash band where the players had gotten their brains fucked out.
          In 1981,I got a message that two Texas promoters, J.K. Pettaway and Don Ball were doing a "Boogie Kings Reunion" at the Port Arthur Civic Center.  My lawyer notified Don that he could not use the name without permission from Ned Theall.  He did not know this was a bluff. I still did not have the trademark approved.  Anyway, he went for the bluff, called me and we came to terms.  I didn't want to start so much shit about the name that the show would be cancelled.  I needed to know if the name "Boogie Kings" still had monetary value. The gate on that performance was over $30,000, but I only got paid $200.  I also noticed that Norman Land was selling T-shirts and tapes and he made about three grand. Norman was the roadie with the original Boogie Kings, but he was now a big time booking agent.  The show was horrible, but the people loved it.  Go figure!
        Well, I got screwed on that gig, but now I knew the Boogie Kings were a bonafide real legend, and the name, which I finally got control of in 1982, was still worth a fortune.  That was the last time that anyone ever screwed me out of Boogie Kings money.        
        Don Ball promoted another Boogie Kings reunion the next year in Beaumont and it was another huge success.  I had total legal ownership of the name "Boogie Kings" in the form of a trademark.  Beaumont produced a $30,000 plus gate and we got some regional television coverage.  I did a lot better on the money, walking out with $1,700 this time. The promoter paid me a thousand, and Norman Land paid me $700.  A good night's work, any way you look at it.
     I think Don Ball was angry that I made him pay me a grand to use the name. He paid me in front of everyone with a huge bag of one dollar bills.  I surmised that this was to make the players think that I was walking out with the lion's share of the money, therein taking the heat off his ass.  The Boogie Kings were very suspicious about the money.  He's the one who really made the bulk of the money. I didn't care because the name was mine, at long last.
     Rose was sharing my apartment and my bed with me in New Iberia, Louisiana, and we were very sexually active with each other.  On the way back from Beaumont, I talked Rose and my date, a pretty little bisexual brunette, into stopping at a motel so we could party some more.  There had been coke everywhere, and we were still buzzing, nowhere near ready to quit.  For several hours, we engaged in some of the most uninhibited sex that I have ever participated in.  I won't go into too much detail about it, but you can use your imagination if you like.
        In December of 1982, I decided to promote my own reunion.  With the help of James Stelly and a large night club named Podnuh's, we agreed on a December date.  I managed to hire all of the original Boogie Kings.  It had been about fifteen years since we had all shared the same stage.  With no rehearsal at all, we got on that stage and with a standing room only crowd, we blew the fucking walls down. They wouldn't let us off the stage!  We came back for three encores.  We shared a ton of money, destroyed the crowd, and shed a few tears of joy, but I could still detect hard feelings in some of the players.  Nevertheless, I was convinced that we could put the great Boogie Kings band back together again. Humpty-Dumpty had that idea, too, but he could not do it either.
     We decided to try it one more time, fully convinced that the Boogie Kings were marketable for big money.  We booked a Boogie Kings reunion at the Lakeshore Club in Lake Arthur, Louisiana.  The club was run by Emmet Ayo and Robert Kenvyn, two of our dearest friends.  The gig was a great success and we made some money. It was a foggy night and driving conditions were horrible.  Duane, Jon, Rose and myself were in my car, "Old Blue," the fog got thicker, and we were passing a joint around.  All of a sudden as we approached Gueydan, Louisiana,  I saw a sign in front of me that read "Barricade."  I slammed on the brakes and everything got quiet as I realized that the car had no intention of stopping.  We skidded through the barricade, became airborne at sixty miles per hour, jumped a canal and came down on the service road that ran along the side of the canal. If we would have come down in the canal, we would all be dead now.  I guess God was not ready for us, for we survived without a scratch.
     In early 1983, Rose and Jon moved in with me in my tiny one bedroom apartment.  We got some players and started booking jobs. We hired big Johnny Thomassie on drums, Glen Guilbeau on keys and some other good players and gave it our best shot.  We started with a bang, but just as it had happened in the past, it ended in failure and hard feelings.  I went broke again and decided that we had allowed too much time to pass.  Music had completely changed and we were seen as an oldies act now.  We were still appreciated and respected, but we were only strong in certain places.
     I was single again.  I got a job at Romero's Music in Lafayette and quickly realized the money potential in a business of this type.  I worked there for two years and made enough money to open my own music store.  My friend, Lee Warnken, and I opened and operated Ned's Music for five years very successfully.  I hated retail, but I was making good money.  My partner, Lee Warnken, is still in the music business. His talent and skills were the backbone of my business. I could not have succeeded without Lee.
        In 1988, I joined a band called "Speed Limit" Black Alleman, Tony Goulas and Tony Ardoin were the vocalists.  We did all of the old Boogie Kings material. Jim Drouet and Eddie Baker played horn   
with me.  Bubba Boudreax was on keys and Don Trahan was the drummer. Pat Smith was the guitar player.  I used this band in the 1988 reunion (which was one of our best, musically speaking) and it was recorded live.  A tape was released and was titled "Cajun Soul." It is now available on our website, "boogiekings.com".
        In October of 1989, just when I thought my career in music was over, I was hired to play trumpet on a rock show in Baton Rouge with a bunch of other has-beens like myself. It was a good performance and I enjoyed it very much.  After the show, a gentleman walked over to me and said, "Aren't you Ned Theall of the Boogie Kings?"  I was flattered to be remembered that way. He continued, "I'm Frank Parker and I'd like to know what it would cost to put the Boogie Kings together for a New Year's Eve Show."  This was in 1989.  Without hesitation, I said, "Ten thousand dollars."  Frank replied, "That's all?" I said, "Yes, and I would need a thousand dollar deposit."  I thought this would blow him away, but he immediately pulled out his checkbook and said, "Is a check okay?"  I could have kissed Frank's feet as he handed me that check.  I asked Frank where the gig would be and he said, "Right here in Baton Rouge at the Centroplex."  I had no idea at all that I could pull it off one more time, but what the hell? I had a thousand dollars to play with.  We played the New Year's Eve, packed the place, but somehow Frank got screwed when he tried to collect his money from the ticket agency. I ended up giving Frank a break on the price, but he still lost money. I will always appreciate what Frank Parker did for us because this is where our comeback really began.
        The New Year's Eve 1989 performance was recorded and released as a compact disc. It is entitled "Nine Lives" and it is available on Jin Recordings. Floyd Soileau has helped me tremendously in the past few years.  It is also available on the website.  
Right after the New Year's Eve gig, we had a meeting with GG Jerry, Dan Duane, Jon and myself to try to get commitments to put the band back together one more time. The plan was to meet with Norman Land, a booking agent. He had indicated to me that he could book the show.     Norman didn't show at the meeting, Jerry wasn't interested unless we could could meet some unreasonable guarantees.  G.G. was not interested.  Duane Yates and Jon Smith backed me up, but it was not enough to build on.   I could see that this meeting was going nowhere, so I pulled out of the whole deal, not wanting to make a fool of myself again.  I was beginning to think that it would be impossible to put the Boogie Kings together again for anything but reunions.
So here I was, 52 years old and once again thinking about a comeback for The Boogie Kings.  I knew that it would take a miracle for the band to get back together, but this was my mission in life and I just could not give up my dream, no matter how impossible it seemed at the time.  Everyone thought I crazy and I was told over and over that I could never get the magic back into the band, even if I did put it back together.  Boy, were they wrong!

GG Shinn, Jerry "Count Jackson" Lacroix, Duane Yates  1988
CHAPTER 12
           
CHAPTER 12
THE COMEBACK

The next reunion took place on August 6,1991.  Wilbur Leblanc and Black Alleman hired us to play at a remote club in the small town of Cade, Louisiana.  It was a nice reunion and the crowd was good. The band sounded great and everyone involved had a great time.  I had a date with a gorgeous brunette named Belinda, who I had the hots for.  I had worked with her a couple of years and I was hoping that when she saw me on stage, it would break the ice.  I was wrong.  After the reunion was over, I shook hands with all of the guys, telling them thanks and I'll see you next year.
    I was awakened the next morning by the telephone.  It was R.T.'s night club in Baton Rouge.  Sonny Amato was a friend of the Boogie Kings, and he wanted three dates on us.  I was overjoyed.  This was followed by other phone calls from six or seven more club owners that wanted dates.  I was ecstatic!   By the end of that day I had secured $25,000 in contracts.   I could not believe what was happening.   The time was right at long last!  Now that I had guaranteed money to back me up,  Duane Yates and Jerry Lacroix, two of the all-time great Boogie Kings vocalists, signed on and we were back in business.  I didn't know how long I would last this time around, but I was joyously happy because we had not left the starting gate so successfully in twenty-two years. I didn't want to look back.  I repeat, twenty-two years! I realized that if I blew it this time, I would be the laughing stock of all time.  Undaunted by negative thoughts, I became very positive and deliberate in my ways.  I closed my music store, sold everything I had and reinvested all of it in promotion and payroll. If we didn't make our scale, I would take it out of my pocket.  I went through twenty grand in no time flat. But the great Boogie Kings band was working again.
     Three people played a big role in our successful comeback. First was Katrinna Cheri Huggs, who I like to call "Blue Eyes."  She went out on a limb for us by giving us a four-page spread, and also the cover, in Acadiana's most popular newspaper, "The Times of Acadiana."  Thanks for believing in us, Katrinna. I love you baby.
The late Huey Darby at KROF radio in Abbeville had consistently played our records and has always had kind things to say about our band.  Huey is an excellent vocalist, having his roots in the "Randy and the Rockets" band, pioneers of "Swamp Pop" music.  Huey gave us a huge boost on the radio.
        Lou Coco, another Boogie Kings believer, has pushed our music for many years.  Like Huey, he never fails to give us live interviews on radio KLIL in Moreauville.  Lou gave us a lot of radio help that resulted in more bookings.  I owe these three fine people a debt that I can never repay.         
        Back to the band, I had "Bubba" Robin, Glen Guilbeau and Ronnie Crowley in the band.  Ted Broussard was the guitarist.  David Hyde was on bass, and Duane and Jerry and GG  were making most of the gigs. The band sounded great and bookings continued to roll in.  We were beginning to play some festivals and our Louisiana-Texas circuit was falling in place again, just like the old days.  Our crowds were mostly our fans from the sixties.  We noticed that they would bring their sons and daughters occasionally  to see the band of their youth.  One could feel the respect of the crowd towards the band.  The applause would begin as we would approach the stage and continue until the downbeat. This had never happened before. We were beginning to feel like the legend our audiences wanted us to be.
        Jerry was performing well and I was believing that our twenty-five year feud was finally over.  Duane Yates, the most consistent performer I've ever worked with, hung in there.  It is very expensive to run a big band these days. That's why I'm one of the only fools doing it.  G.G. helped us launch the comeback, but he left because he wanted to work with his own group, which was still quite popular. G.G. still makes occasional appearances with the BK show.  Jon Smith and I had a serious conflict early on, but being the close friends that we were, we only stayed mad  at each other for a year.                      
        In February of 1992 we were booked at the Liberty Theater in Eunice, Louisiana, the city that gave birth to the Boogie Kings.  The Liberty Theater presented only traditional French and Cajun music, so it was nice to be the first rock group to ever play there. This event was magnificently video taped by a professional crew, and is available on a ninety-minute video and DVD.
        We continued to do well and I could see no problems developing within the band.  Although, it did seem like the more I paid the guys, the more they'd gripe. I paid no attention to it because musicians always gripe about everything.
        One weekend, my son Thad, who was working a slide show with us, notified me that a mutiny was in progress, and a band walkout would happen alter the Sunday night gig. Shit!  Sure enough, six of my players all quit at the same time. It seemed like old times!  I paid them all and went home. I didn't call anyone for an explanation because I was accustomed to being let down.  The next day I was told by Duane that the guys wanted to have a meeting to discuss their demands. Since I owned the band lock, stock and barrel, I advised Duane that a meeting that was not called by me was of no significance to me.  I knew that I could not meet their demands.  Duane tried to get me to go to the lynch mob meeting, but I steadfastly refused.
     At the meeting, the general attitude was that Ned could not operate the band without them, so they decided to give me an ultimatum.  They wanted more money or else.  Some very distasteful things were said about me at that meeting, none of which were true, but it goes with the territory. I was accustomed to all sorts of bullshit, and it did not bother me much.
Duane came back to my place and delivered the ultimatum to me.  I said that I would consider it, only to string them out for one more gig.  It was a benefit for Hurricane Andrew victims and I wanted to help.  I called no one.  Jon and I wanted to see who would show up. Well, they all did, and the next day I called them one by one and accepted all their resignations.  I had all of them replaced with better players.  It was a drag to lose most of the band in one blink, but my hide was so tough from previous mutinies,  that I didn't lose much sleep over it.  I really hated to see the guys go crazy like that because I was really overpaying them and the budget was eating up my salary.  It was simply a bad miscalculation on their part.  Since the mutiny, we have all managed to bury the hatchet.
     I knew that no matter who I go on stage with, they would inevitably sound like the Boogie Kings.  I have been on stage with twenty or thirty Boogie Kings bands, all with different players, but they all sounded like the Boogie Kings.  You see, I hold the keys that give ignition to the Boogie Kings engine. And this is a talent I will never  lose.
     In December of 1992, I made my friend Jon Smith a full partner.  I was burned out and needed some help.  I felt like the bookings had stabilized and it was time for me to give up something in order to keep everything.  I put Jon in charge of personnel and budget and I took over bookings and promotion.  This situation worked very well for both of us.  Had I continued to carry the whole load, I would have lost everything.  I was older now, and I could not handle the stress like I used to.  The year 1993 was coming up and it would prove to be a year of incredible peaks and valleys.
     It started on New Year's Eve of 1992. 1 had expected to make about $2,500 and get caught up on my bills and expenses.  We didn't get the crowd we thought we would, and I barely made enough to meet the payroll with nothing left over for myself.
     In January, I was forced to move to Lake Charles, putting a further drain on my money.  Two weeks later, I had to move again.  The second move left me flat broke.  But Jon was doing a good job running the band and we had a cash flow now.
     In February, a series of bizarre coincidences caused Jerry Lacroix to flip out and pull out of the band.  He had held on to a $1000 check so long that I couldn't cover it.  That pissed him off.  But for some reason, the bank cashed it and put me in a deep hole.  Then, on a performance at the Superdome in New Orleans, our show was cut off in the first five minutes of Jerry's show, which was very important to him.  Of course, he blamed me for this.  Actually, I had no control of this.  They had told us to do ninety minutes, but they cut us off at forty-five minutes.  The very next night, also at the Superdome, the same thing happened. So Jerry didn't get to sing.  He was now convinced that I had arranged for this to happen. Not knowing that he had cashed the $1000 check and putting the bank account in the red caused all of the other players checks to bounce. At the same time a four thousand dollar check that we had gotten a week earlier turned out to be worthless.  So we lost Jerry and went five thousand dollars in the hole in one miserable afternoon.  But, the Boogie Kings were scoring big points. We were  being written about in major magazines and newspapers, interviewed by large radio and television stations, and had two new CD projects on the table.   We were making excellent money at this time and were able to pay off all of the bad checks.  
     Everywhere that we performed, we were greeted with enthusiastic applause such as  we had never heard before.  We were a resounding success at the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival.  The players in the band now were some of the greatest we've ever had. The additions of Harry Ravain on drums, Robert Wilson on bass and "Flash" Gordon Wiltz on Hammond B-3 organ stabilized our rhythm section along with Ted Broussard on guitar and vocals.  The addition of Donnie Martin and Jimmy George on horns put the tower of power back into the horn section.  Duane Yates was the lead vocalist. My good buddy,  Dale Gothia, did some Texas gigs with us. All in all , we had a roster of about thirty-five Boogie Kings to draw on.  I'd say that the great Boogie Kings band was in good shape.  We had survived turmoil and strife with hope that was beyond hope.
I knew that things were good now, but I also knew that it would not be long before things got bad again, but I decided that I would enjoy it for as long as it lasted.

Glen Guilbeau, David Hyde, Jon Smith, Ted Broussard
Ronnie Crowley, Duane Yates, Ned Theall, Jerry Lacroix, Bubba Robin
<>

CHAPTER 13
TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS

        "Knock, Knock, Knock, Knock!!!"   I awoke from a sound sleep to hear several hard knocks on my apartment door.  I had heard that knock before.  I got up looked out of the peephole, and saw three men with badges.  My heart sunk.  I really did not want to open that door.  I knew why they were there.  Someone had snitched on me.  I opened the door, hoping that they would not have a search warrant.  I was wrong.  They searched.  They found.  I saw my whole future vanishing before my eyes as they hauled me down to the jailhouse.  It couldn't have happened at a worse time for me.  We were making one of the most spectacular comebacks that a band had ever made, and I was about to screw up once again.  
        I found out who snitched on me.  It was a crazy girlfriend of one of the guys in the band, whom I shall not name.  She thought for sure that this would get me locked up, and her boyfriend could take over the band.  I can't blame the cops, they were only doing the job they were paid to do.  I do wish this country would ease up on the marijuana laws.  Half a million people die yearly from alcohol, and the same amount from nicotine,   No one has ever died from smoking weed.  Where is the sanity in the laws that govern nicotine and alcohol, the two most addictive and lethal substances that the world has ever known.  
        When all the smoke cleared, I got a five year suspended sentence and five years probation.  I decided to move out of Lafayette, and move to New Iberia, where I had a few friends.  This was in 1993.  I was hanging out at Harold's Club while I was trying to reorganize the band once again.  My old girlfriend, Rene' lived there and I was hoping to find her.  I always had a place in my heart for her, but I had not seen her for about ten years.  One night, at Harold's Club, I was trying to hustle one of the waitresses.  I had asked her if she was seeing anyone.  She said she was seeing a guy named Brennan.   That's not a very common name, and I remembered that Rene' had a son named Brennan.  He would be about 20 years old at the time.  Could it be the same guy?  I asked her what Brennan's mother's name was, and she said, "Rene."  This had to be more than a coincidence.  I got Brennan's phone number from her and called it, and guess who answered the phone?  My heart skipped a beat as I heard Rene's voice on the other end of the phone.  After reviewing old times, I went over to her house and we hit it off very well.  It was February, 1993.
        A month later in March, I nearly got killed when I ran my car off the road and came to a dead stop against a concrete culvert with my seat belt unfastened.   It knocked me unconscious, and put a severe gash in my head that required twenty-eight stitches. Had it not been for a stranger who spotted my car and called an ambulance, I would be with Jesus right now.  They rushed me to the hospital.  I was a bloody mess.  They called my friend, Jon Smith.  Jon and Glen Guilbeau came and got me at the hospital.  They called Rene' and she came and watched me all night, as I had a bad concussion.  I was out of action for a while, but I have fully recovered and have no lingering problems except a slight headache and an aggravating whiplash.
        I gave Rene' a job working for the band.  I needed a lot of help for a while, especially with my newsletter list, which was growing daily.  We had great time working together.  Rene' was really great with office work, something I hated to do.  We began to get very close, and I realized that I was falling in love with her.  
        One day, Rene' didn't show up for work, and I didn't get a phone call or anything.  I was very puzzled by this.  She didn't show up for three days, and I suspected that she had something else going for herself.  It really gnawed at me.  On the fourth day, she came back as if nothing was wrong.  I was determined not to lose her.  I had been single for twelve years, and I was yearning for a relationship.  I needed to stabilize my life.  I also wanted to begin writing my book, which is this book.  The accident had made me realize that I still had work to do.          Rene had her own place, and it was paid for.  We agreed that
I would move in with her, and we'd see how it worked out.  If I was looking for peace and quiet, I picked the wrong place.  I was hoping to get some privacy.  But shortly after I moved in, Rene's oldest daughter moved in with her new baby, and got pregnant almost immediately after that.  It was anything but peaceful.  But I was with Rene' and I was happy.
         My mother, God rest her beautiful soul, died in 1993 at the age of 83.  She had Alzheimer's disease, and had been slowly deteriorating for several years.  I had been close to my mom all of my life.  The greatest enjoyment that I ever had in my life was to sit with my mom, and talk to her.  She was my hero and my life's inspiration.  Mom was a very prim and proper woman.  She worked hard all of her life, raising three sons on her own, without the help of a husband.  My dad died when I was 11.  She was very artistic and talented.  She could play the piano without ever having had a lesson.  Our home was always clean, and we always had hot food on the table.  She had the softest, most feminine hands that I have ever held.  Mom led a very blessed life, and I hope to see her in Heaven.
When my mom left this earth, it left a huge hole in my heart.  I still think about her every day, and I wonder where I would be in my life, had it not been for her love and support.  I am still playing the trumpet that she bought for me when I was a kid and I think about her everytime I touch it.  God Bless
you Mom.

CHAPTER 14
Chapter14
CHAPTER 14
CHASING THE 50TH

        It was 1994. In eleven years, if we could make it, the band would have performed for 50 years.  This has never been done.  Rene' and I were trying very hard to book the band in the casinos, which had popped up all over Louisiana and Mississippi.  We finally got the casino door opened by booking a two week engagement at the Ameristar Casino in Vicksburg, Mississippi.  I thought that the band would go over real big on the casino circuit, but I had a lot to learn.  The problem was that our band was too loud and bodacious for the casino customers.  In a casino, the band is not the center of attention unless they are in a separate lounge.  We had to play behind the bar and in the open casino.  Our music disturbed the old folks quite a bit, and they were only too eager to complain.  The entertainment director made us play so soft, that we were not effective at all.  The wanted us to be part of the scenery and not to stand out.  We were not accustomed to being handcuffed like this.  But the money was good, the food was good the hotel rooms were nice.  I tried as hard as I could to make the band conform to the conditions, but it was impossible to convince ten Cajuns to play at a casino volume level.  They still wanted to blast out, and eventually the sound would get out of control.  The sound man got so frustrated that he would turn all of the microphones off and leave the board when we were playing.  We were doing five shows a night, and it didn't take very long for us to begin to disintegrate.  Disagreements turned into arguments.  Arguments evolved into fights.  I wondered if we should pursue the casino circuit or go back to the bawdy night clubs.
        We played a Boogie Kings reunion at Shep's Club in Mansura that was quite successful in 1994.  At the intermission, a young 17 year old boy came up to me and introduced himself as Jamie Dea.  He told me that he knew G.G. Shinn and that it was his intention to get a job singing with the Boogie Kings.  Thinking that he was just another brash young kid that thought that he could sing, I told him to make a tape and send it to me.  A few days later, I received the tape and put it in a drawer with no intention of listening to another bad tape.  Quite by accident one day, I was playing some tapes and I gave it a listen.  It was rough and crude, but Jamie's talent shined through like a beacon.  I said to my wife, "This kid has potential!"  I called Jamie and invited him to sit in with us at an upcoming Grant Street Dance Hall event.  He came and sang a couple of songs with the band and really impressed me.  Shortly after that, I hired Jamie, and he performed with the band for the next four years.  He left the band and recorded a CD under the name of "Parker James" which is his stage name now.  Seldom does a young player have the right feel and style for rhythm ‘n blues music, but Parker has it down pat.  I wish him much success in all of his endeavors and he will always be welcome on a Boogie Kings stage.
        After we made a few casino appearances, we began to develop a new following.  The word got around that we were a good band, and we began to prospect other casinos.
        My friend, Cal Arnold, had given me a tip about a man named Marsh Edelstein from Minnesota.  He was the booking agent for all of the Grand Casinos in Louisiana and Mississippi.  Five casinos, to be exact.  Rene' kept urging me to contact Mr. Edelstein, but I told her that he would never pay our price.  I had spoken to some of the bands that were working the Grand circuit, and according to them the pay was lousy.  Well, Rene' called him one day and he was very interested in booking us.  She handed me the telephone, and I very reluctantly spoke to the man.  I knew that he would not pay my price, but I was not at all afraid to quote it to him.  Marsh was a very nice gentleman, telling me right off the bat to call him "Marsh."  He said that he had heard of us and was very anxious to have us play continuously in all five of the Grand Casinos.  He asked what it would take for us to contract some jobs.  I didn't think he would negotiate the price, so I nailed him right between the eyes with a price that was more than I really expected to get.  As I thought, he hit the ceiling!  He said that he had never paid a lounge act that much money.  So I thanked him for speaking to me, and I hung up the phone.  Fifteen minutes later, he called me back, and offered a little more money.  I told him that his offer was an insult, and I couldn't consider it, and I hung up the phone once again.  I told Rene' that it was a nice try, but Marsh would never meet our terms.  Wrong!  Fifteen minutes later, the phone rang again, and I booked $100,000.00 worth of contracts in one shot.  God is good.  God is great.  This was the beginning of a long term friendship and a very profitable one.  I am very grateful to this wonderful man for giving us this wonderful opportunity.  Marsh, I'll never forget you, my brother. 
        In December of 1995, I stopped the show, and Rene' and I got married on the bandstand at the Grand Casino.  It was a beautiful wedding.  Daniel Lacombe was the Justice Of The Peace.  A very talented kid named Travis Thibodaux, and his dad, Gary Thibodaux performed a song called "The Wedding Song".  It was a beautiful song and it was they performed it flawlessly.  Travis also composed that song.  It was a memorable event.
        We played the casinos very successfully for the next five years.  Several players came and went in the group, but basically it was Jon Smith and Duane Yates that helped the group more than anyone else.  We were playing the casinos about 36 weeks out of every year and making good money.  It got to be very tough after a while because of all of the rules that casinos have.  We were much more comfortable playing at night clubs, but we could not turn down all of that casino money.
        All of a sudden, out of a clear blue sky, Marsh Edelstein called me and informed me that he was resigning from the Grand Casino.  He had kept us booked for five years.  One by one, we started losing our Grand Casino dates.  We managed to keep the Grand Casino in Marksville, LA, only because we were a top draw.  Instead of 36 weeks a year, we now only had 6 weeks, and times were beginning to get rough.  Rene' and I hung in there as well as we could.  As times got worse, I began to drink very much and went back to using drugs.  I was getting more and more depressed.  In fact, I was losing it.  But the band was playing enough for us to survive, so I stuck with it.
         I don't often speak about religion or politics.  Actually, i despise those who use religion as a shield for their misdeeds.  Most of my life, I was not into religion much, but that all changed in 2002.  I was at one of the low points in my life.  I was living in an apartment that my son owned in Abbeville, La, my home town.  For some odd reason which I cannot explain,   I turned off my TV, all of the lights, closed my curtains, and lit two candles.  Then I got on my knees, and began to pray to God.  something  that I had never done.  I was 65 years old.  I had been in Alcoholics Annonymous for two years at that time.  All of a sudden, my whole body went numb, and the dark room that I was in lit up with a mysterious light that I cannot explain.  I lifted my head up and asked God to forgive my sins and take charge of my life.  I said, "Lord, I turn my life over to you".  I felt a total change come over me, a very uplifting feeling came over my body and an intense desire to go forward with my life and my career, even though things looked very bleak at this time.  Since that experience, I can truthfully say that God has surrounded me with some of the most loyal and supportive friends and musicians that I have ever had the pleasure of being with.  I learned that my God is a very forgiving God.  Turning my life over to him has protected me from harm until this day.  God is great.  God is love.  I consider a relationship between and individual and his Higher Power to be a very necessary part of a person's life.
         Jon Smith and I formed a production company to manage the band in 1994.  I didn't really want to operate as a partnership, but frankly, I was getting burned out.  I was now approaching the age of 60 and I was beginning to slow down.  The partnership worked very good for several years, even though Jon and I had conflicting personalities.  We had some good players in the mid nineties.  Our drummer was Harry Ravain, a very accomplished and experienced player.  His friend, Robert  Wilson was working with us also.  Robert is the best bass player that I ever worked with.  He knows all the songs and always stays right in the pocket.  On keyboards, we had Rick Allen, a jamming player that the audience loved to watch and listen to. The band was sounding very strong, but with the addition of the New Orleans players, I felt that we were leaning towards a kind of a second line sound and drifting away from our roots.  One night, at a show at the Grand Casino, I looked back and saw that Harry had removed his coat.  It was a policy of the band that we did not break the uniform code, and I told Harry to put his coat back on.  That pissed him off and he declared that he would take his coat off any time he felt like it.  So we got into it, and I ended up letting him go.  Robert hung in for a few months after that, but he eventually left the band.      After Harry left the group, we had a rough time finding a drummer that could satisfy us.
        We hired Tommy Richard in the mid nineties, and he hung in for ten years.  Tommy is a wonderful blues player and is a rock solid player with a great attitude.  We almost lost him a couple of years ago when he suffered a serious heart attack.  But he has rebounded and is playing better than ever.  Tommy left the band in 2004 to join the "Cypress Band" with Willie Tee and Warren Storm.
        Jerry Henderson joined the group shortly after Tommy and stabilized our drummer headaches.  Jerry was  a wonderful, very stylish player and he added a great deal of class to our sound.  Jerry had a great sense of humor, a wonderful attitude and he was perfect for the group.  Jerry died in 2007 from cancer and we miss him dearly.
        Willie Tee had played with us off and on for the past ten years.  Willie is a wonderful player and singer and a master of "Swamp Pop"
music.  Willie currently has 4 CD's on the market.  He sounds a lot like Fats Domino on his vocals and plays his saxophone with a unique style, that others cannot duplicate.  Willie and his wife, Gloria, came to my aid in 2002 when I was in a very down period of my life.  They gave me a place to live, food to eat, and money to help me survive. I will be forever grateful to this couple for what they did for me.  Willie and Gloria now have their own band.
         Nick Farkas, a dear friend from the sixties, and a talented creative player and vocalist has been our steady keyboard player for the last few years.  Nick can play any style of music at moment's notice, but he is at his best on a straight blues tune.  Nick, also had a serious heart problem, but he was cured with a quadruple bypass.  Where would we be without our wonderful doctors? 
        Gerald Romero filled in on bass after Robert left and did a wonderful job for the band.  Gerald is a great player and he does some vocalizing on the side.  He still works with us from time to time.
 
         
WE DID IT !!!!!!!!!!
50 YEAR ANNIVERSARY
1955 - 2005
AN INCREDIBLE ACCOMPLISHMENT


Ned Theall at 70     2008
GRATITUDE
Chapter 15
GRATITUDE


The year is 2007.  I had already announced the retirement of the band and we had done several farewell concerts.  I was just about to get in the old rocking chair when God sent another miracle to us.  A friendship formed between Allen, Gregg, myself and a man named Hadley Cohen.  A few months after we became friends with Hadley, he offered to sponsor us on making a new CD.  Although I cautioned Hadley that a recording is a risky investment, he still had enough faith in us to go forward with the recording project.  The result of all of this is that because of the dedication of the new players whom I call, "The New Breed", we were able to come up with probably the best CD that we have ever recorded.  We will always be grateful to Melinda and Hadley Cohen for enabling us to do this classic Boogie Kings recording.  It is entitled, "Never Go Away".
        Allen Wayne is now  with the band.  Allen brought a great attitude to the group, something that had been missing for a while.  Allen wrote four original songs for the new CD.  He is a wonderful entertainer and a great friend. 
          Gregg Martinez, a wonderful singer, has been performing with us for a few months.  Gregg has a wonderful voice and is a top notch professional performer.  His classic original, "Never Go Away" is a masterpiece of a song, and his performance of it is nothing short of pure genius.
          Shayne Whitmore has replaced Tommy Richard on guitar.  He is a fine player with a great attitude.  Steve Morrow is our bass player,  Bubba Boudreaux is on keys,   Tim Courville and Ronnie Crowley are alternating on drums.  Jeff Fournet is on tenor sax, joined periodically by Alex Melton, Bubba Robin and Sid Janise.            Jon Smith is performing with us again.
         But the best thing of all, Mark Klein, a 14 year old wonderfully talented young man, has been performing with us since he was ten years old.  He is a very gifted young man and he'll go a long way.
        Jon Smith left the group in 2002 to tour Europe with Peter Moffay.  He still does the tour every year.  Jon also records with most of the major artists in the USA.  Jon played with the group "Toto" for a while.  He also records with Edgar Winter, a monster musician from Beaumont, Texas.
        GG Shinn owns a very successful night club in Alexandria, Louisiana.  We perform there occasionally.  GG still sings his heart out, just like he did for his entire career.  He always was a consummate professional front man, the best that I ever worked with.  He always excites a crowd and never misses a note.
        Jerry Lacroix still has chops of steel and an uncanny feel for the blues.  One would think that his rough, raspy style would have burned his voice out, but he still belts it out every time.  He told me the wisest words I ever heard way back in the sixties.  He said, "Ned, you have to upset  the audience or they won't remember you!"
        Duane Yates, the most soulful white man that ever held a microphone, is retired.  He has performed with us longer, and recorded more songs with the Boogie Kings than any other singer.  His unbelievable "Otis Redding" style always captivated the audience.  On the other side of the coin, he can croon out a "Nat King Cole" sound also.  Duane had to replace GG Shinn back in the sixties when GG left to form his own group.  That was some big shoes to fill, but Duane was perfect for the task.  Duane and I have played together in Las Vegas, Hollywood, Reno, Lake Tahoe, San Francisco to name a few cities. 
        Matt Schlenker, a true friend of the band, has been taking photos of the band since 1992.  He has literally spent thousands of dollars doing this.  Matt has given me and the guys hundreds of pictures and to this day, he has never charged us one red cent.
You couldn't have a better friend than this.  Matt has documented hundreds of our performances.  Thank you, my soul brother.
        I have spoken very clearly and freely about drugs and my involvement with them in this book, but I need to make one thing abundantly clear. I do not wish to glamorize the use of drugs and I do not advocate the use of drugs in any form, shape or fashion. Drugs ruined my life and I am now in recovery, living one day at a time.
        Rene', my beautiful wife has been there for me since the day we got married.  She has put up with my moody personality, my sarcastic ways, and all of the other shit that goes along with being a musician.  When I am ugly to her, which is quite often, she always puts me in my place.  Rene' is a kind, giving, strong and warm person who cares deeply for other people.  She is the first one to forgive me when I go astray.  She loves pets, flowers and children.  Nothing makes her happier than to go on the road with the band.  She has a son, two daughters and three grandchildren.  Rene' encourages me daily to do better and try harder.  She laughs with me and cries with me.  Her belief in me has given me the strength to carry on, year after year.  I love Rene' from the depths of my soul, and I always will.  She is the best thing that ever happened to me and I could not make it without her.
        I must mention some great friends.   Benny Davis and his friends from Tyler, Texas began to sponsor gigs for us in Tyler.  Benny used to bring us barbequed brisket that was delicious.  Craig Neal from New Roads, Louisiana hired us to play some gigs at the Civic Center and also at his farm in Woodville, Louisiana.  Craig always treated us like "Kings" with his great deer roasts.  Don Ball booked a gang of gigs in the Port Arthur area.  Floyd Soileau of Jin Records produced three new recordings on the band.  Lou Gabus inducted us into the Louisiana Hall of Fame.  Kent Juneau gave us some gigs at "Kyrle's" in Mansura.  John Blancher featured us at the "Rock ‘n Bowl" in New Orleans.  Norman Land at Kingsland Entertainment threw us a bone.  Mark Layne at KVPI in Ville Platte, Louisiana has always helped us tremendously.  David Rachou, engineer at "La Louisianne" studios in Lafayette did a terrific job on our recording projects.  Paul Marx and Phil Daigle at KBON Radio played the dog out of our records.  Gene Romero from New Iberia, Louisiana repaired our cars for little or no charge, helping us to stay on the road.  Connie and Jimmy Rogers from Dallas,  produced a recording on us.  Bill Anderson gave me financial help when I was desperately in need, and even flew down to catch one of our reunion shows.  Roy Shaw helped us to get the "Walkin The Dog" project produced.  Marsh Edelstein from Minnesota got us into the casino circuit with a bang.  The internet created a world wide market for our recordings.  Maureen Brennan and Danny Kimball fixed my head.  Jimmy George helped me personally more than words can express.  Nell Gauthier gave us our look.  John Howe kept us alive in Shreveport.  The guy that helped us most of all was Jeffery Sabree, entertainment director at the Paragon Casino in Marksville.  Jacques and Celeste Louviere manufactured our CD's for us at prices that we could afford.  Sam Montel and Huey Meaux gave me the rights to all of our old recordings.  Social Security and Medicare gave me a kick in the butt.  My brother and attorney, Kit, bailed me out of several bad situations.  Marsh Edelstein gave us 5 years of the good life. 
        We did our farewell tour in 2006.  The fans came out in huge numbers.  But they didn't come to tell us goodbye.  They came to tell us not to hang it up, but to keep it going as long as we could.  Then, out of nowhere, a couple of people came into our life, gave us the budget to do a brand new recording.  We did the album entitled "Never Go Away".  It may or may not be our last recording.  I hope not!  We will be forever indebted to Melinda and Hadley Cohen. 
    I mentioned all of these names because I could not have made it to where I am today without the collective help and support of all of them.
      It is now November of 2008.  We are still playing gigs with an 11 piece band.  The Boogie Kings have truly achieved and earned the title "Louisiana's Legendary Super Group".  We have been blessed for many, many years, actually, decades.  We lost a lot of great players along the way.  We provided an opportunity and a platform for more than 150 musicians to "show their stuff".  The digital age has provided me with a lifetime of royalties and a world wide fan base.  We had a great deal of laughs and tears.  I never dreamed that the journey would be so long and enduring.  There is  a ton of BS in the music world, but it never discouraged us.  We just kept on going year after year like we knew what we were doing.  I think the good Lord above had a hand in all of this.  The real thanks go to Otis Redding, Ray Charles, Fats Domino, Wilson Pickett, Sam and Dave, Sam Cooke, James Brown and Bobby "Blue" Bland.
     That is the fantastic story of a fantastic life of a little Cajun boy with a horn and a dream.  If this book has a moral, I guess it would be this:  No matter how many times you get your ass kicked, never give up.  Take one more chance.  Dream one more dream.
     I have always pursued my goals with honesty and integrity and total dedication. I always tried my best  to succeed. I thank God for giving me the opportunity to serve the community and my state through many fund-raisers, civic and charitable events.  By my calculation, my band has raised many hundreds of thousands of dollars for charity.  Because Boogie Kings fund raisers, a small child will have something to eat tonight.  This child will have a roof over his head and a blanket to keep his tiny body warm.  Because of the Boogie Kings fund raisers, school children will get the supplies they need to further their education.  Because of the Boogie Kings fund raisers, an older, less fortunate musician can get a life-saving operation and continue to share life with his family.  Because of the Boogie Kings fund raisers, Law Enforcement Officers have obtained much needed supplies and overtime pay.
To all of the thousands of Boogie Kings fans throughout the world who have supported us through the historic Boogie Kings era, you have my unconditional love forever. It was because of you that we were able to maintain a standard of excellence in the music industry that will never be equaled by anyone, anytime, anyplace. It is for you that this book was written. Without your total support and dedication, there would be no Boogie Kings. .
    To the new Boogie Kings fans who are checking us out in record numbers, you are our future and our legacy is yours. We graciously accept your acceptance.  We hope that what we leave behind will forever be validated by fans and musicians.  The internet has made us a world wide phenomenon.
     To all the Boogie Kings players who number over one hundred-fifty through the years; you have proven to yourselves to be a cut above the rest.  You are all a part of the incredible legend of this great band. You have always performed on a professional level with dignity and honor. It has always been a privilege and an honor for me to share the stage with you. The fact that this wonderful group of musicians is still performing today is a testimonial to your skills. I am truly blessed to have been afforded the opportunity to have served as your leader. I love you guys. Thanks from the bottom of my heart.
     To Jerry, Gary, Bado, Bobby, Robert, Sed and Danny, rest in peace my Brothers. Your legacy will never be forgotten.
     I am a musician.  That is my job.  That is what I do.  I would not trade my life's experiences for anything on earth.  I paid the price.  I never gave up. I proved it over and over again, year after year, that I could stay the course of my mission.
     To the young aspiring musicians, I have only this to say. If we have inspired you, then we have served you well.  Pursue your goals with vigor and enthusiasm. If you stumble and fall, brush yourself off, get up, and get back in the race. Never say die. Set your goals, and work hard to achieve them.  Believe In yourself, and you will find that dreams really do come true!
                                
You see, God planned it that way.
Ned Theall 

Ned Theall at 70     2008