Friday night, June 29, at about 8:45 p.m., a strange and never-before thing happened to us here in the Shenandoah Valley.  We were quickly and with total surprise visited by what we think was a derecho.  (I’d never heard of one either but if you want the simple, country version of the word – it is one heck of a strong and destructive wind.)

            Derecho took out trees and lawn furniture and just about everything that wasn’t nailed down but most importantly it cut a path through our electrical service that has yet to totally heal.  Our house was without power for 68 hours.  That is almost three days by anyone’s count, and the worst part was the 98- degree temperature that raged on night and day.

            Now I grew up here in Virginia with no AC in the house so I figured we could handle it.  Not necessarily the case.  That was a few years ago and maybe I’m not as tough as I was as a kid.  And then there is that thing of getting dark by 9 p.m. each night.  Debbie sat in the den and read a book by flashlight one night while Lucy (our dog) and I sat in the yard looking for a breeze.

        No radio.  No TV. No computer.  Only cellphones and no way to recharge them.  The refrigerator and the freezers full of food were wasting away by the minute.  (We finally lost every morsel of food and had to restock the fridge as if we were just starting housekeeping.)  As we walked through the house, trying hard to be normal, we found ourselves constantly flicking on the light switches out of habit.  I discovered even in the bright light of day that there is not enough light in a bathroom to shave with complete confidence that you’ve done an adequate job.  I even got the brilliant idea at one point that my IPad was lying on my desk and that it would take the place of my computer.  Not to be.  No electricity – no wireless.

            We have always felt protected here amidst and ‘tween the mountains but this time the wind got through and did its damage. So with the third night coming down on us fast and hot, we decided to give up and go to a hotel about two miles from the house.  Even the dog was happy we’d made this decision.  We stayed there until word came to us the power was back.

            I share all this with you with not a hint of whining or complaining.  Many of our friends are still without, so we feel blessed.  And through all this, we still read of the horrible news in Colorado and the homes that were going up in flames.  So we have nothing to mourn.  All is well and today is the Fourth of July and we have so many things for which to be thankful

            Hope your 4^th is happy and peaceful.  As for me and my house, we’re sitting inside with the air cranked as low as it will go – just counting our blessings.

                                           7/4/12   –  DSR

     Dick Clark died yesterday and this is a passing all the music industry should sit up and take notice of. No matter what they say about Alan Freed and some of the other early pioneers of Rock music, Dick was the man that put it on the air and on the map.
     I was watching Bandstand with the rest of America’s youth in the late fifties when we discovered this fresh-faced young man in suit and tie who seemed to know more about the music than anyone else in the country. He could make, break or destroy a record with the tilt of his head or a smile at just the right time. Artists flocked to the stage door to get on his show and lip-sync their latest release and record companies tied up his phone lines to get their roster represented on the all-important afternoon show. That weekday airing was then moved to Saturday afternoon and an icon was born.
     We (the Statlers) first did a Dick Clark TV show about 1966. It was an afterschool show on ABC called “Where The Action Is.” It was taped in Riverside, California, just outside L.A., and featured whoever was a hot act at the time. (If you remember this show, you’re older than you want to admit.)
     Then in the early to mid-70s, Dick invented the American Music Awards. He was trying desperately to get it off the ground that first and second year. He called us in Virginia and said he was producing this new awards show and asked us to come guest on it. We had scheduled a series of meetings with our lawyers and CPA during that time for some business we were involved in and told him thanks but no thanks at this time. Days later, he called back and said he really wanted us for the show and if we would bring our lawyers and CPA with us and do business on the plane going and coming, he would gladly pay all the fares for everyone. Again, we told him it just wouldn’t make sense at this time but that we would do it another year for him. A couple of days later he called and said, “Look guys, if you come, you’ll win.”
     Dick was a lovable and determined guy. That’s why he was as successful as he was in everything he touched. To end that story, we didn’t go and we didn’t win.
     But we did win three other years – ’79, ’80 and 81. And we finally worked it out to where we were able to be there and perform on the show in ’83. Dick was standing on the stage waiting for us when we arrived for rehearsals. His first words were, “Well, finally the Statler Brothers are here!”
     He was one of the good guys and he’ll be missed by the music and TV industry.
     You know what I remember most about that American Music Award TV performance in ’83? We sang “Child of the Fifties” and the opening lines to the song are:
I grew up a child of the fifties
Learned to dance to the beat of Rock n Roll
Television was my friend, “I Love Lucy”, “Rin-Tin-Tin”
Kissed my first girl when I was ten years old.

Rest well, Dick. You left a lot of nice memories for us all.

—-DSR
April 19, 2012