A NIGHT IN THE LIFE

THIS IS A FACTUAL, NON-EMBELLISHED TELLING OF AN ACTUAL EVENT AT THE CELLAR
A NIGHT IN THE LIFE - downtown Fort Worth, 1963
by Arvel Jr. StricklinŠ1986

I finished my set and stepped off the bandstand, heading to the bar for a drink, when I noticed the commotion by the cash register. A burly customer had been arguing heatedly with Kirkwood and finally got up the nerve to throw a punch. Instantly Jim, the manager, grabbed the customer with a restraining hold but the larger man broke loose and was immediatly surrounded by several others - I recognized Cannibal, Dub and Leo - then Jim, recovering his cigar, said "take him up the back stairs". Big Chuck nudged me and I turned around. There were eight or ten customers crowding us, trying for a better view of the knot of men moving toward the stairs, Jim following them, waving his cigar. I looked at Chuck and he rolled opened his fist at waist level, showing me the four inch length of steel bar he held there, then rolled it shut again, his eyes saying "crowd control time", and I was momentarily aware of a driving shuffle beat from the bandstand, and Johnny Carroll wailing "you're makin' me nervous and I'm holdin' a baseball bat..."
I turned, standing shoulder to shoulder with Chuck, and looked the nearest man in the eye. "Stay back, please" I told him, and, to my relief, he nodded and stood still, but behind him two other men began to flank me on my right, heading toward the fight. One of them snatched up a metal chair and swung it over his head and I saw Jim, his back turned, still directing traffic. I yelled "Jim! Look out!" and the guy dropped the chair and swung a ham sized fist that caught me squarely between the eyes. I staggered back, blinded for a second, and caught the edge of a table with my left hand while balling my right into a fist that I really wasn't prepared to break, since I still had two more sets to play before I could get paid for the night. Vision clearing, I could see the guy standing in front of me, mouth hanging open (I later learned that Cannibal saw him hit me and threw a two pound rubber hammer from fifteen feet away, striking the guy in the side of his head), and then Jim was there saying "did he hit you?" "Damn right" I said, and the guy came to life and headed toward the front of the club, flinging tables into the aisle behind him. Jim threw down his cigar and followed him, stepping over the strewn tables and chairs. Meanwhile, the guy's buddy had gotten into it with Kirkwood and found himself overmatched and backed into a corner and definitely getting the worst of the deal. I looked to my right and saw the original fight moving up the back stairway, then I noticed that the music had stopped so I looked toward the bandstand. Things were flying through the air over there and the saxman was crouched against the piano trying to protect his horn. Johnny was standing on a table in front of the bandstand and swinging his Fender guitar through a wicked arc, taking out any brawler who got too close. Adrian was playing a march on his snare drum and shouting something at Tudy who was breaking up laughing. I moved toward the front door and Jim walked by, lighting a fresh cigar on his way to the cash register. Jim had caught his man by the door and had hit him pretty hard with something and it looked as though he might have stomped on him some, for good measure. I stepped over the inert body of my former antagonist and headed up the front stairs. Things were beginning to quiet down and I knew the police would be showing any minute. I looked at my watch and saw I would have time to walk over to "Two Country Boys" and have a chicken fried steak before my break was over. Rubbing my sore nose and mentally listing the songs I would play next set, I ambled across Main street, hearing sirens in the distance and already smelling the onions from Blackie's open cafe window.
Adrian told me later "Shouting, hell, I was singing 'I Love A Parade'!!!"