FilioScotia

That's probably true. Who can say? I just remembered another Sand Mountain "moment". I definitely recall seeing and hearing Townes Van Zandt singing Pancho and Lefty there sometime in 1966. It's such a haunting song I never forgot it. Years later, in the 80s, when I heard Willie Nelson and Merle Haggard's recording for the first time, I flashed back to that night at Sand Mountain. It gave me goose bumps all over again. To this day hearing that song always makes me think of TVZ.

I used to live on the far south side and I drove into town on Almeda Road. There were times of day when the aromas coming from the Nabisco Plant were to die for.

Thanks for remembering John Carrick. I recall getting acquainted with him and his mom through a number of repeat visits to Sand Mountain in '65, '66 and '67. I didn't mean to say those "name" singers were well known nationally at that time. I meant they were fairly well known in Houston and around the state and had big followings. People would plan visits to Sand Mountain if they knew those guys were on the bill. I remember Jerry Jeff singing Mr Bojangles at the Mountain several times in 1966. For years I thought Townes VZ wrote The Ballad of Ira Hayes because he sang it at Sand Mountain the first time I went there in early 66. Imagine my surprise when I learned someone else wrote it. It has the mood and feel of a TVZ song. If he didn't write it, he should've.

Sand Mountain was in an old house on Richmond just several blocks west of Montrose. That was a fun place because the owners worked at attracting the best big name performers they could find. In the mid 60s I saw Jerry Jeff Walker doing his first appearances in Houston, Townes Van Zandt, Guy Clark, who was also a regular at the Jester, and, would you believe, Don Sanders, before he became a whacked out flower child. He was performing in a suit and tie, believe it or not, and his hair was still short. Ah yes. When you and I were young McGee. Those were indeed the days.

Wow. That's all news to me. It makes sense that the Jester was something else before Mack Webster bought it and turned it into a folky club. I remember it was rather old and a little ratty looking at the time. Udemi Lane is still a mystery to me. I'm not questioning what you've found out, but I just don't remember it. Then again, going to the Jester was the only reason this old Pasadena boy even went to that part of town in the mid 60s.

Valenti was a Houston ad executive and a graduate of the University of Houston. His friendship with Senator Lyndon Johnson got him a job as Special Assistant to the President in 1963. Because he was a powerful figure, JEdgar Hoover wanted a dossier on him, just like all the dossiers he had on practically everybody in Washington. He used them to shore up his power base at the FBI, and he knew so much about so many people that nobody in Washington would stand up to him. There were rumors that Valenti had a relationship with a male photographer, so Hoover had some agents look into it. They found no evidence to support the rumor so the investigation went into the file of cases that were "Undetermined But Still Open". That's why I don't believe Valenti was gay, because if there was anything to be found, Hoover would have found it. A few years later the Motion Picture Association of America hired Valenti to be the Chief Executive, a position he held for the rest of his life. His name lives on at the University of Houston, at the Jack Valenti School of Communications. I've been told that the day Hoover died, the sound of a giant wind was heard all over Washington. It was the sound of thousands of current and former politicians and political appointees breathing a collective sigh of relief at the same time. Jack Valenti was, without question, one of the most remarkable people Houston has ever produced. Read his bio on the Internet Movie Database. http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0884122/bio

Stump lives in the same kennel where the 2001 Best in Show winner J.R., a Bichon Frise lives.

Actually, the killer's name was Karla Faye Tucker. I have no idea where that other name came from, but it's out there in so many places that it does turn up in a Google search.

That Chronicle story is one of the most depressing and haunting I've ever read. We all know there are street people, and street kids who survive by selling sex to anybody who'll buy. That's a very dark world, but I don't think I've ever seen it depicted in such stark and realistic imagery as the writer of that article accomplished. Anyone who pays even a little attention to what's going on around them knows there are children who're thrown away by their parents and/or guardians and forced to survive any way they can. We also know there are adults who live among us, and take advantage of the street kids' situation to satisfy their own perversions. None of that is new, but seeing how close their world is to ours, and seeing it portrayed with such terrifying clarity forces us to know that "there but for the grace of God go I." Hell has no circles low enough for people like Bill List. And if this isn't enough to send you into terminal depression, consider the fact that absolutely nothing has changed in the Montrose area since List was killed in 1984, or since that Chronicle article was written in 1985. Check out this article in TODAY'S Chronicle. http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/headli...es/6262563.html It's about an aging Montrose hustler who was there in the early 80s, and who probably knew the guys who killed Bill List.

It's a genuine pleasure to meet someone related to one of my favorite entertainers. Carl was "top of the line" in local country music and I never missed his TV show.

Didn't you see that link I posted up at the top of this thread? It's to a great article about Carl in the Galveston County Daily News. Do I see your name in that story? Down at the bottom where it lists his survivors? http://www.rockabillyhall.com/UtahCarl1.html

Actually, his name was Don "Red" Barry. He was indeed from Houston, and he got the nickname "Red" from the years he spent playing Red Ryder in a string of films and serials in the 40s. Sometime in the 50s Barry became one of John Wayne's "stock company" of actors, and appeared in a lot of Wayne's movies, including The Hellfighters, which was filmed in the Houston area. The Internet Movie Database says his real name was Donald Barry De Acosta. He was a little guy with a chip on his shoulder and his "attitude" caused him problems his entire life. Here's a link to his page on the IMDb. http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0057983/

That's really funny, because I just finished reading a great biography of Sam Houston by historian James Haley. It provides a lot of detail about what life was like in Houston in the 1830s and 1840s. You won't be surprised to know that even then, Houston was known for its bad air and water. Many called it completely unliveable.

Did you catch those names of the people who put the film together? Lynn Ashby was a columnist-reporter for the old Houston Post when he wrote this thing. Have no idea what he's doing now. Producer-director Judd McIlvain was KHOU's lead investigative reporter. He's now doing the same thing for a TV station in Los Angeles. Film editor John Shaw is still working at KHOU. He's one of their best and most experienced video photographers, and he still goes out and covers stories every day.

Fund Raiser to benefit the Jim West Mansion

Just thought you guys would like knowing what's going on with that old building at Southmore and Pasadena Blvd. Believe it or not, a developer thinks it has a future. Here's a link to a good article in today's Chron. http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/ent/ar...ay/6213541.html

The only thing in your posting that I'm questioning is the name "Udemi Lane." I'm not surprised to learn that Lightnin' Hopkins played a club on the west side. The sixties were a time of change in a lot of ways. However, I've lived in Houston most of my life, and I ran around over most of the city during the 50s and 60s and I have never heard of Udemi Lane. I've Google searched the name and the only place in Texas with a street with that name is in Cleveland Texas. Can you tell me where the "Udemi Lane" in Houston was located? I can say with no fear of contradiction that the Jester Lounge where I spent a lot of time in the mid and late 60s was on Westheimer at Midlane, several blocks east of the West Loop. Midlane is a short street that runs north from Westheimer through that big complex of apartments to San Felipe. The area known in the 50s and 60s as "Sin Alley", because of its big population of young urban singles who really knew how to party. The Jester was torn down and plowed under a long time ago, and there's a very big apartment complex on the site where the Jester once stood. I can't help but observe that the last six letters of Udemi Lane almost spell out Midlane. And if you Google search the address 2509 Midlane, you get the corner of Midlane and Westheimer. Precisely where the old Jester once stood. Even the old City Directory got street names wrong from time to time.

Don't know anything about the Bird Lounge or Lou's Ricksha, but the Jester was located on Westheimer at Midlane, just a few blocks inside the Loop 610. A huge apartment complex now covers the spot where it was situated. It was a fun place to hang out back during "The Great Folk Scare" of the early sixties, when folk music was still acoustic and more or less traditional. I spent many a night there drinking Mack Webster's beer and trying to hustle the cute young folk music fans who flocked to that place. I know I'm going out on a limb here, but I seriously doubt -- in the early 60s -- you would find a club showcasing black singers like Lightnin' Hopkins located west of Main Street. Houston was still a very segregated city then -- socially, and to a great extent, artistically. In those days Main Street was the unofficial but very real dividing line between the races and social classes in Houston. Upscale white collar whites were west of Main. Blacks, Hispanics and blue collar whites were east of Main and north of downtown. Black entertainers -- especially blues singers - played almost exclusively at small clubs on the east and southeast side of town, in the 3rd ward. White entertainers did the clubs on the west side, including Montrose and Shepherd.

You wouldn't believe the things Rice has owned over the years. Check this out. http://www.ricefootball.net/yankeestadium.htm

Go to Google Maps, type in "510 Milby, Houston, Texas" and you'll get a satellite eye view of the intersection of Harrisburg and Milby. You will also see that directly across from what once stood at 510 Milby is the Maxwell House Coffee Plant. You know? As I recall, we learned in an earlier discussion here on HAIF that -- before it started producing coffee, this facility was a parts and assembly plant for Ford Motor Company until 1942. It produced trucks and other vehicles for the U-S military during the war, and only later did it become what it is today. My point is: can you think of a better place to open a night club with boxing ladies and gents than right across the street from a large manufacturing plant? Especially during the war? When everybody had more money to spend? I'm betting the old Ringside Club was one hot and jumping east end night spot in its hey days before and during WWII. I could be wrong, but I don't think the windowless building someone photographed is the old Ringside Club. The address on that building is 516 Milby. Google mapping 510 Milby turns up one of those 360 degree photos of that stretch of Milby, and you can see that the windowless building at 516 is very big, and goes back from Milby quite a ways -- all the way back through the block in fact. I'm guessing the Ringside Club was closer to the corner of Milby and Harrisburg. Maybe even the now vacant lot next to 516. On the other hand, the Ringside Club did need a fairly big building to accommodate a night club that offered floor shows, and a boxing arena with seating for several hundred people. That means the building at 516 could have been the Ringside Club. Address numbers have been known to change over many years.

Orange Julius was all over town in the 60s, 70s and 80s. I guess there are still a few still around. My wife worked at one in Memorial City Mall when she was in high school in the early 70s.

Don't get your hopes up. The boxing girls just wore very skimpy outfits. You could call it an ancestor of "female mud wrestling." I don't think Houston had what we would call real "strip clubs" in those days. Our local vice laws and vice cops saw to that. Bozo St. Clair was an old Vaudevillian who did his song, dance and comedy schtick at Houston night clubs in the 1940

Milby Street? Unless there's another Milby Street I don't know about, I have to tell you this joint was on the east side of town, in what was then, and still is now, the arm pit of Houston. 510 Milby is at the corner of Milby and Harrisburg, far from downtown, at least a couple of miles east of the overhead 59 Eastex Fwy.

I don't remember this particular trailer park, but I can tell you that trailer parks of the 50s didn't have the negative reputation they seem to have today. A lot of very nice and fine people lived in mobile home parks. And the same is true today. I hate it when I hear people described as "trailer trash". Trailers were an inexpensive place to live for people who couldn't afford to buy a house, and for people who moved around a lot. When I was growing up in the 50s I knew a lot of people in the military and people in construction work who lived in trailer parks. Also back then, mobile homes were a lot smaller than they make them today. That was before the era of the massive 14 by 75 foot house with expandable side rooms. You could unplug the utilities, hitch it to the family pickup truck and move on short notice. These days you have to call in professionals to move a mobile home. It also helps to remember that Houston has never had zoning. People could open any kind of business they wanted just about anywhere they wanted. That's still true.

That shot brings back some memories. My turn now. I found a video on YouTube that should send some of us into a major flashback. It's Gram Parsons and Emmylou Harris at Liberty Hall sometime in the very early 70s. Enjoy.