The following is part two of a mostly true historical fiction recollection of Willie Nelson’s 1975 Fourth of July Picnic in Liberty Hill. For part one click here.
Things get weird
“Who was that guy?” Mike asked. “He sounded like we should have seen him at the Prison Rodeo in Huntsville last fall. I’m exhausted just watching him and I’m definitely hotter. Hand me another beer man.”
“I don’t know much about him.” I replied. “That song, You Never Even Called Me by My Name, was the only thing I’d heard before; although, I’ve seen his name around Austin pretty regularly. Plays at Castle Creek a lot. An indoor show in the air conditioning would probably be really good, but I bet his tickets will be more expensive after this show he put on. That was good.”
The next performer was Delbert McClinton, but the transition and set up between bands was extraordinarily long and the heat was excruciating. Our only comfort was sliding under the makeshift shade we created using the tarp and some old tent poles and popping the top on another cold beer.
He finally came on and broke into the song, Victim of Life’s Circumstances. It was a moving ballad, but most of the movement was behind me and to my left. The crowd seemed to be fixated on something behind us. “What the heck is going on over there?” I asked a fellow patriot passing our site.
“It’s a couple screwing,” he said as he passed along.
“For real!?” Mike exclaimed.
“That is too damned weird,” I said. “I don’t know what’s worse, two people deciding they have to expose themselves to a crowd or the crowd fighting to watch,” I began to moralize. I realized I was talking to myself when I looked to Mike and saw he was gone. I scanned the crowd to my left and watched as he quickly, and with the grace of an athlete, threaded his way through the crowd until he was blocked from my view.
For the next hour or more I was in my own world listening to the music, watching people, and relaxing, as much as possible, in the Texas heat. Delbert McClinton had finished his set and Donnie Fritts had followed with a short one. They were getting the stage ready for Doug Sahm, one of my favorites. Doug was originally from San Antonio but lived in Austin now. Besides playing around town, you might see him hanging around South Congress or playing putt-putt at the Peter Pan course on Barton Springs Road.
Suddenly Mike appeared breathless and red-faced, collapsing under our tent. “You’ve been gone a long time.” I said, “That must have been a good performance.”
“Don’t give me any crap”, he said. “I’ve been all over this ranch trying to lose that fucking sheriff.”
“What the hell have you done now?” I asked, as I prepared to pack and desert our establishment.
“Nothing.” He retorted. “I had just gotten over to where that guy and girl were getting it on when that sheriff came blasting in. He was yelling, break it up, break it up, and there’s nothing to see here. Then he almost stepped right on top of the lovemakers. The girl screamed and twisted out from under the dude. The dude screamed and grabbed his pecker. The deputy got red in the face and didn’t know what to do. Then he saw me and screamed ‘You!’.”
Mike continued, “We locked eyes, and I knew I had to beat it. I took off through the crowd dodging people the best I could and made a big circle to get back here. Did you know there’s a river over there and a bunch of people are swimming naked?”
I was assessing our situation and considering our next options when a drunk cowboy passing by asked, “Why was that sheriff chasing you?”
“I don’t know.” The hapless Mike said. “He wanted to talk to me, but I didn’t think it would end well so I took off.”
“We all laughed pretty hard”, the cowboy said. “That ol’ boy kept bumping into people and you kept moving like you were doing a two-step on a crowded dance floor. You sure have upset that ol’ boy. You better pray he don’t find you.”
“I believe you have mistaken me for some other celebrant.” Mike countered.
“Maybe.” The cowboy replied. “Alls I know is if that sheriff catches that sumbitch he was chasing…” and he continued through the crowd.
Sir Douglas was leaving the stage as the loud clap of thunder reverberated across the pasture.
To be continued…
