The weather forecast was for severe thunderstorms, but that was hastily updated to a tornado watch. Most Oklahoma City residents were unconcerned about the forecast as was Gary until the second television weather interruption. A cloud rotation and possible tornado was reported southwest of the Oklahoma International Airport by radar and observers reported it was tracking Northeast and about to enter Oklahoma City. Apparently Gary wasn’t the only person ascertaining the announcement, venturing outdoors, discovering several neighbors standing in their yards all attentively looking southwest towards the airport at the presence of the greenish bellowing thunderheads. The lightnings audible rumble providing an indelible warning announcing of their approach and below the towering ordained profusion, the omnibus horizontal layer indicating a wall cloud.
Gary wasn’t alone, his three-year old son Scott standing by his side bucking the gusting wind, a sense of trepidation was beginning to evolve with the enveloping rush of the oncoming storm. Vigilance prevailing, the two on continuance watch for a sign of a funnel, but to no avail. Gary and young Scott eyes fixed westward towards May Ave, then a sudden gesture, the wind gust changing the elements, scattering the air with debris, the sudden crackling, popping sound of electrical discharge, the whirling wind spreading rubble, gathering momentum. Gary turning to access his neighbors who have earlier joined him to watch the display, discovering they had vanished, returning to the security of indoors. For an instant, the turbulence paused, the boy and his Dad standing alone, a brief hesitant silence arresting the scene underscoring an aura of their solitude. Taking Scott’s hand, abandoning the outdoor environment for the structured sanctuary of the house. The aftermath of the brief storm was negligible, the tornado fleetingly touching the ground on its traverse across Oklahoma City, the nearest damage assessment, the sudden removal of a Diary Bar structure at 38th and S. May Ave, a distance of eight blocks.
A far more compelling and damaging storm was the one prevailing within the band Gary having recognized the clouds on the horizon and understood their catechetical consequence, Larry Burns the clarinet and sax aficionado having left the band after a dispute over Glenn and Gary’s booking travel expenses and now the coming transpiration of Jerry Willis. Jerry, the bands accomplished guitar and tenor sax mentor having succumbed to full-time employment with DEMCO (Drilling Equipment Manufacturing Company) a prominent oil industry manufacturing complex as a machinist and with this full-time commitment could only avail himself for weekend engagements. Another inconvenience and the most distressing one, drummer Glenn Froman, Gary’s close’s friend and confident, the person who introduced the pianist to the music profession would be returning to Indiana.
Gary’s thoughts were collected, logic would reign, prioritization would be in order, consternation kept in check. First things first, an inquiry to Del City Music’s proprietor, Bob Woods about the availability of drummers, Bob acknowledging he was aware of a drummer named Dewey Moore looking for a job, having heard he was good but knowing him in name only. A phone call, Gary arranging to meet Dewey at his trailer park residence in Midwest City. On arrival Gary discovering the drummer had some forethought, having assembled his trap-set for a percussion demonstration and his expertise would compliment the band, Gary taking notice of Dewey’s two large dogs, who wouldn’t compliment anyone. The first engagement with the new drummer the was at the Officers Club at Tinker Air Force Base in Midwest City, a two night engagement, the second night hosting an added feature, a magician performing two thirty minute shows. Dewey introducing his wife Elayne, Gary confident he made the right decision in hiring the Midwest City musician, his performance on the bandstand bearing witness. The second obstacle to overcome still remained, a revision of the band schedule would have to be undertaken, Jerry’s availability limited to weekends presented a major problem, either play only weekends or hire another guitar player.
The Untouchables playing their closing song, ‘That’s All’, concluding their Weekend at the Broadway Club, in the basement expanse of the fourteen story Broadway Towers building on W. Main in Enid. The band equipment packed into Gary’s car, the Pianist and Jerry having agreed to retrieve Dewy who was riding with them and had left a little earlier, the Drummer saying he wanted accompany a waitress to her apartment, asking to be pick up at her place on their way out-of-town. Address in hand the two arriving at the apartment, Gary announcing their arrival with a brief sounding of the horn, an expectation that the percussionist would appear, but after waiting a reasonable time, the they decided to make an inquiry, knocking on the door. The door opening, both witnessing the waitress in a state of havoc, flustered and upset, screaming that Dewey had forced himself on her, physically attacking her. Gary remained silent listening to the accusations and her exclamatory notice, “that if he was ever in her presence again either here or at work, she would notify the police and press charges of attempted rape”. Upon leaving the scene, Gary was perplexed, the drummer was silent about the accusations and with the waitress’ indictment, the band scheduled to play the following weekend, Gary left with no other alternative but to inform Dewey George Moore his services would no longer be needed.
( The headline 20 years later)
Jury Returns Guilty Verdict Midwest City Man Given Death in Girl’s Slaying
Published: Thu, September 12, 1985
Dewey George Moore, portrayed by his attorneys as a sick, tormented man unable to cope with his violent tendencies toward women, was convicted and sentenced to death plus 999 years in prison Wednesday for the murder of a 12 year-old Midwest City girl.
Moore, 49, was impassive as Oklahoma County District Judge James L. Gullett read the sentence, which was returned by a six-man, six-woman jury after 70 minutes of deliberation.
It was a September day, the Oklahoma State Fair had arrived, Gary approached the Hammond Organ display in the large exposition building. Seated at the console of the mammoth circular keyboard was Larry Flowers, Gary well acquainted with the Hammond Organ franchise dealer. The displayed Hammond Organ, it’s boisterous sound augmenting the building structure with its tonal ascendancy. Gary getting closer, noticing a familiar sound , the total rhythmic audio of a live percussionist, a drummer. This was not the synthetic rhythm sound that normally accompanied an organ, but the actual audio of a sideman, he could hear a snare, a tom-tom, and bass drum, high-hats and cymbals, Gary was intrigued. Larry volunteered, pointing to what resembled a control box latched to the side of the organ bench, explaining it was a Chamberlin Rhythmate, providing continuous loop tape recordings of a live drummer. Fourteen taped rhythms being performed, with three variations for each, a volume and speed control producing the recordings, Latin, Swing, Shuffle, Rock-n-roll, Jazz, the Waltz, Two-step, brushes and other rhythmic venues all-inclusive. The discovery and exhibition of the Chamberlin Rhythmate providing an insight to pianist admonition about the future and a possible solution to his dilemma. The Pianist giving serious thought maybe it was time to tailor his piano from the bandstand to a more congeal solitary format, the piano bar. Gary was hesitant, a decision to enter a new musical realm would be a major step, the demanding exposition of a solo performer was a venue he had never experienced.
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