Screened and Searched

It was 5:25am, July 27, when I heard about the bomb blast at the Olympics. We'd been traveling and I got in my truck to drive home and heard the news on the radio. My immediate thoughts -- when I realized the explosion had been in Centennial Park during a rock concert -- were, "Oh my god, that's where we played just a week ago. I wonder who was on stage at the time?" The report noted that two people had died and over 100 were injured! When I got home, I watched a few minutes of CNN, got some more details, and then went to bed -- too exhausted to dream.

When we agreed to play in Atlanta on July 16 for the Olympics, they were almost a year away. Originally the show was to consist of Riders in the Sky, Asleep at the Wheel, and Willie Nelson. It was to be billed as a "Texas" showcase. I was real happy to get the gig and had tried to get Don Walser on the show to no avail. As it turned out, Don got a gig there anyway.

I knew there'd be a big hassle from the security angle from the get-go. I just wasn't prepared for the extremes we had to go through to play! Neither was Willie Nelson. When he found out what was ahead for him and his crew, he canceled the gig. What was at issue were all the security measures the promoters of the concert wanted the entertainers to go through.

First off, no vehicles, buses, trucks, etc. were allowed to drive to the venue. All vehicles were to go to an appointed area where musicians and equipment would be screened and searched, and then transferred to an official Olympic van that was sanitized and driven by an Olympic employee to the site of our show. Also, we were to use as much, if not all, of the gear there at the stage so as not to bring in more "unsanitized" gear. Finally, we were required to send passport photos for our security backstage passes and tons of info on each band and crew member.

When the day of the gig finally arrived, so had we on the red eye from Seattle, where we'd played the night before. We arrived in Atlanta at 9:40am, and made it out of the airport in an hour with our guitars, instruments, and luggage. We headed to the hotel, checked in at about noon, and most of us took a three-hour nap and the three "S's:" Shit, Shower, and Shave!

We were told to meet at 5pm at a nondescript office building five miles from the stage where we would park our bus and go through this search procedure. After waiting 45 minutes for someone to search us, we finally passed with flying colors! No explosives on this band's bus.

While I was waiting, Kenny Rogers walked in. He's an old showbiz veteran and was called two weeks earlier to fill in for Willie. We talked a bit and I told him I knew Bobby Doyle, the great Austin piano player and singer who started Kenny out and taught him "everything I know about music." Bobby's amazing and Kenny asked me to tell him "Hello" and that he had some songs he wanted Bobby to sing. Another 45 minutes of waiting passed -- during which time we were not allowed to go back on the bus or leave the building for anything -- until we were finally loaded in a van and driven to Centennial Park.

We were told traffic would be a real nightmare but we encountered no delays and were backstage by 6:30pm or thereabouts. That's when I knew we were way too early! They were totally disorganized. When we asked about our dressing rooms, we were shown this large, warm area behind the stage with no dressing facilities, no walls, no food, and dozens of security people all over the place. When we asked where our badges were with the pictures we had sent a month earlier, no one knew what we were talking about!! Instead of laminated picture ID's, we were given stick-on generic name tags with nothing on them (easily bought at any stationary store in Atlanta). We were also three hours from show time -- they were an hour behind schedule -- so we were forced to wait in this lobby kind of sorts with nothing to eat for three hours.

This building was obviously not designed to be a backstage. It was an AT&T "Hospitality and Communication" center. They had dozens of security guards all over the place, and lots of small coffee tables, each with its own AT&T phone on it. Free local calls but who did I want to call in Atlanta? Since there was nowhere to dress, nothing to eat, and nothing to do, I wandered around backstage and ran into Brent Carpenter -- director of Dale Watson's "South of Round Rock" video -- who was editing sports segments. I also saw my friend John Cossette, who's part of the production team.

After a while, we finally whined a bit (well, a lot) and got them to bring some dinner over from the cafeteria. Sometimes just getting one decent meal a day is a real accomplishment on the road. In hindsight, it seems security was too tight backstage but too lax in the audience, where the bomb went off a week later.

Out front, the place was buzzin': 50,000 or more fans were crowded into Centennial Park for the first night of free musical Olympic festivities. The games hadn't started yet and the anticipation was great. Riders in the Sky played their hilarious acoustic cowboy music and warmed up the crowd nicely. It was 9:30pm or so by the time we got on the stage! With a 50-foot video screen and all rental gear behind us we started the show. We boogied with Route 66 and the place went crazy; cheering, screaming, dancing. The crowd was fantastic. It was as good as it gets, except for a really loud buzz in the monitors that kept going all night -- not that I listened! After all the lousy shows and setups I've played, you learn to grin and bear it and just keep playing!

It was, as it always is, incredible to play for that many people. I couldn't help myself, and in the middle of the set I sang "Georgia" and of course the place went nuts! We did our set, played it up-tempo, got a great ovation, and got off stage. We bought some Olympic T-shirts and hats, got in the "secure" van, went back to the "safe," and then went back to the Red Roof Motel.

I'll sign off now. The bus leaves tomorrow at 7am for Nashville and another series of interviews, meetings, and shows! Goodnight from Atlanta (really Smyrna, Georgia. All the motels were too expensive, or booked). n