Arnett, Vadicans, Metronomes, 1967

I became a music professional in July, 1967, earning fifteen dollars a night with the Vadicans Band from London, Ohio, twenty-five miles from my home near Plain City. It’s hard to believe that my father, George Howard, allowed me, a sixteen year old, soon-to-be senior at Jonathan Alder High School, to spend the summer wandering the state with a band. He likely trusted Richard Peterson, leader of the Vadicans and a fellow worker with my father at Westinghouse Appliance Plant on Columbus’ Far Westside.
I remember weekends-for-pay in Washington Courthouse, Yellow Springs, Springfield, Chillicothe, Mansfield, Zanesville, East, West and South Columbus. In the fall, when I turned seventeen and school started, I would play in the Jonathan Alder High School Marching Band on Football Friday Nights and Saturdays with the Vadicans at chitterling joints like the Sportsman’s Club on Parson’s Avenue. I saw all of the things that my father probably wished that I didn’t see; dives, bar glasses flying at the stage, a pistol sliding across a tile floor, fights in parking lots that would empty a club in seconds. I probably saw hookers and dope fiends, never in the act, though.
Our band was sensational. Richard was the boss-businessman, drummer and chauffeur who drove the Corvair Van full of instruments. Link (Robert Davis) was the music director and owner of a first generation Farfisa organ, which doubled as bass instrument, since Phil Lowery, the bass guitarist was serving in Viet Nam.
Elden Peterson and Don “Lil’ Moe” Wilson played guitars and were lead voices. Harold McNeil played tenor sax and I would say that we were a horn team, but Harold was so devilish and mean to me. He had a sweet tenor voice and would sing many of the whispering ballads, like At Last.
Gary Lee Thomas was a unique percussionist/dancer. His main percussion instrument were maracas and he would shake the light, simple instrument with high style, snake his hips and leap into the James Brown-inspired splits. He would be the frosting to our show; classic rhythm and blues hits, a range of harmonic voices, two horns and a pretty percussionist that would shake his moneymaker and make the women go crazy.
One Saturday night during the fall of my senior year at Alder, a blue-eyed, soul band from West Jefferson, the Metronomes, played the Homecoming Dance in our gym. The leader, Hank Fisher, was a white West Virginian, but with the soul of a Black bluesman. He worshiped the Vadicans and when he spotted me in the audience with my horn, he called me up onstage and my life changed forever.
Hanks started calling me to appear with the Metronomes and some of their gigs and my favorite was Sunday afternoons at Valley Dale ballroom, where Jerry Razor, a WLW-C TV personality would host The Battle of the Bands. Four bands would be be invited to bring their fans out for the competition that would award a best band $100.00. There were a number of bands with growing popularity; The Grayps, The Fifth Order, The Rebounds, The Electras, The Four O’Clock Balloon, The Muth Brothers.
The band judging was more a popularity contest; the band with the loudest audience response was usually the band with the most friends who paid their dollar for admission. But it was a time to drive to the Big City with my Plain City friends and hang with other teens. Most of the other band were rock and rollers, but the Metronomes were a blue-eyed, southern soul band, performing the hits of James Brown, Booker T. and Otis Redding. I was such a hardcore soul music junkie that when someone offered me two Jimi Hendrix tickets at the face value of nine dollars, I nearly cursed him, “I don’t wanna’ see no damn psychedelic music. I wanna’ see James!” I regret my ignorance at the time.
I had another opportunity to see Jimi Hendrix in May, 1970, however, two days before the May 25th concert, it was announced that his concert was canceled and the tickets were refunded. On September 18, 1970, Hendrix was found dead in a London, England hotel room.