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Lynyrd Skynyrd, Ronnie Van Zant andMe Gene Odom

By Scott Coner

iUniverse,Inc

Copyright © 2011 Scott Coner
All ideal booked.
ISBN: 978-1-4620-0695-3

Chapter One

1974

“If You want to talk Fishin; That’ll be okay.”

The phone began sounding while it was still dark. He examined at the alarm clock and crawled out of the completely warm bed. As he addressed the cooking area phone, the voice on the other end sa, “Are you ready to go yet?” He smiled a drowsy smile. His friend, Ronnie Van Zant was all set to fish. Gene kept an eye out the window over the sink. The street lights permitted him to see that the wind was calm and the vehicle hoods were dry up and down the street. He got a bottle of RC soda out of the fridge and returned to the bed room closet to place on some denims and a tee t-shirt as silently as possible. He dn’t wish to wake his partner, Brenda Joe, and littleMelissa He got his wallet, kissed his partner on the cheek, and went out to the vehicle port to collect his fishing equipment. He might hear the truck turning up Mull Street as he got his take on box. He almost dropped whatever as he relied on leave the garage. Maybe later on today would be a great time to speak to Melissa about how to utilize the kickstand on her bike.

The truck dropped in the mdle of the street. Gene opened the truck door to be welcomed by a long haired rock ‘n’ roll star that was genuinely thankful to see him. “How’s it going Buddy?” The radio was playing “Silver Wings,” and Merle Haggard seemed like he implied every word. As the truck ambled gradually around the corner, it was much like it had actually constantly been. Two boys from the exact same community, the exact same school, the exact same world. Yet the dreams were various. Life can sure toss some captain hook.

It looked like the other day that these exact same males were simply teens, hardly 15 years of ages, “jukin’ ” at some community celebration, attempting to act cool, wishing to satisfy a lady. Any lady.” How is life on the road? You know you’re gettin’ pretty well known for tearing up hotels. Doesn’t that hurt the bottom line just a little bit?” Ronnie looked a bit ashamed. “Man, those hotels are like being put into some kind of prison. We spend day and night together and sometimes you just want to blow off a little steam, you know? The music is all that matters anyway. And maybe bad press is better than no press.” Gene simply chuckled and sa, “You are gettin’ press, there ain’t no doubt about it. I’ll tell you one thing, when this music thing slows down, if it ever does, we ought to get you into politics. You know people hear what you’re saying in those songs. We could get you to be governor and maybe I could be like a fishing ambassador or something.”

The water was slick as glass when they dropped the boat in. There was a sliver of pink proving in the eastern sky. It was going to be hot, however not up until later on in the day. Right now, all things appeared completely lined up to capture a fish.

“I stopped by Claude Hamner’s mway grocery store yesterday. That “Curtis Loew” song has really put some smiles on some faces around here. I’m not really used to hearing Skynyrd when I’m buying bologna for my lunch at work.” Ronnie chuckled and sa, “I can’t believe all of this is happening myself. Me and Gary and Allen were talking about it the other day during sound check. It seems like yesterday we were running around the block, throwing rocks and sneakin’ cigarettes.

A mullet jumped out of the water making a splash 50 feet from the boat. “You understand I can feel that bass swimming our method today. One people is going to capture a beast.”

Ceremoniously, the water broke across the top as Ronnie’s pole nearly fell out of his grip. “Gene! I’ve got something on the other end of this thing!” It truly was a trophy and Gene had never seen his friend happier. It was May 1977.

The following poem was written by a young Gene Odom not too long after the Lynyrd Skynyrd plane crash. He had apparently started writing as a type of self- induced therapy. This poem and several others appeared in a book written by Gene titled “Lynyrd Skynyrd I’ll Never Forget You”. (Ten thousand copies were made and self- published by Gene. While traveling with the groups The Rossington Collins Band, The Allen Collins Band, and finally Molly Hatchet, Gene sold the books after the shows)

The Phone Call

The bird still flies around my home
The fish still hangs on the wall
That old truck still runs the same
And I’m just waiting on your call
Those 4:30 calls we used to make
To wake each other up
Are not forgotten to this day
And probably never will be
The poles are now gathered with dust
The boat sits le and free
Fishing trips I take these days
are not what they used to be
I lay and stare at the phone
and wait for it to ring
All of a sudden I remember
I’m only in a dream

Chapter Two

1948-1969

“Tuesdays Gone with the Wind and Tomorrow does not look far better”

Gene Odom was born in December 1948 at Duvall Medical Center. Life was pretty good. Ansal and Annie Odom were apparently committed to repopulating the earth. Gene had four brothers and six sisters. A typical day in the neighborhood consisted of playing football in the old church lot across from Claude’s Mway Grocery store, cutting grass at home or for someone down the street, or just doing what ks d in 1950s America. Life was still new and innocent and lately, that seems pretty refreshing.

When Gene was 17, he and a friend, Harold Osteen, went jukin’ on a Fray night at the National Guard Armory on Wilson Boulevard on the west se of Jacksonville. Gene, being the outgoing personality that he is, dn’t need but a couple of cups of grape kool-a to get out on the dance floor. When Gene busts a move, it is always the ” west se shuffle”. (That was always and still is his dance.) He asked a pretty little brunette to dance, and she must have had some great moves of her own because Gene asked her out the next night, and the night after that. They would go to the movies, go dancing, and sometimes just go for a walk. Although Gene had quit school and started working as an iron worker, Brenda was still in school. She was 16 and Gene was a 17-year-old man of the world. Brenda’s father worked for the Flora Parks Service and took a job opportunity near Pensacola. Brenda’s family relocated to the Flora Caverns State Park, about 250 miles west of Jacksonville. That was a very sad day for both Gene and Brenda. After about a month of letters and a few phone calls, Gene talked a friend of his into a road trip over to Pensacola, Flora. When Brenda and Gene reunited they realized that they truly were in love. Gene asked Brenda to come back to Jacksonville and marry him. He would continue to work and she could finish high school. I’m sure Brenda’s parents weren’t thrilled with the ea, but she d indeed return to Jacksonville as the new Mrs. Odom. It was 1967. She settled in to her new role easily. She kept a clean home, was a great cook, and had the gentle, loving spirit all men dream of.

1968 came like a lion. Vietnam was raging, and America was not sure how to handle it. Gene’s friends were being drafted left and right. Gene just kept his head down and kept working. The Odom’s hoped that the army wouldn’t draft married men, but if needed, Gene would proudly serve his country.

Work got slow and Gene was la off from his job. Gene looked around for more work, but the local economy was slow. The logical thing to do was fish. One day while Gene and Ronnie Van Zant were bank fishing, Ronnie offered him a job at the auto parts store he was managing for his brother in-law on 103rd street. His first day at work wasn’t a great one, but it was memorable. While delivering parts in the company’s VW Bug, the shifter got jammed in 2nd gear and cost $125 to repair. Ronnie threw his hands in the air and sa, “Only you, Gene Odom.” Gene deced not to tell Ronnie that he had been speed shifting when the problem started.

Ronnie had put together a band with four of his friends from the neighborhood including Gary Rossington, Allen Collins, and Bob Burns. During the summer of 1969 they were playing parties and small clubs. Due to the late night practices, Ronnie would re the 10 miles to work with Gene and catch a little extra sleep. Gene would swing by Ronnie’s apartment that Ronnie, his wife Nadine, and their little girl Tammy shared. One morning on their way to work, the left rear tire came off the rim of the delivery truck they were driving. The truck fish-tailed and was nearly on it’s’ se in the median on Emerson street. Ronnie woke up scared to death, but after seeing Gene gain control of the vehicle, he commented that Leroy Yarbarough would have been proud. Gene’s legs were shaking, and his only comment was something about cleaning out his britches and getting a new tire.

Chapter Three

1961

“Rebel Flags and Racecars or simply Gone with the Win(*11 *)Boys,” he would say, “I’m gon na’ drive this piece of crap like I took it this Saturday night at the Jacksonville Speedway, and when they ask me how I done it in the winners circle, I’m gon na inform her that Gene Odom and Ronnie Van Zant taught me whatever I learn about racing scrap cars and trucks on a dirt track. And when I reach over to kiss that model, I’m gon na inform her that Gene and Ronnie sa hey there.” The little boys’ eyes just lit up with excitement. To Gene and Ronnie, Leroy was the king. And at that very moment the king was doing something to the engine that was going to make every other driver at that track wish they had never heard the name Leroy Yarbrough. Gene Odom was trying his best to stand as tall as he could when he spoke to his hero. “After you win this weekend, where will you race Leroy?” ” I do not understand for sure Gene, however I’ve been waiting my entire life for this day. This is all I’ve ever wished to do and I’m gon na maximize it. A guy requires to follow his dreams.”

Ronnie Van Zant had fallen silent. His young eyes looked off into a distance no one else could see. He was also a dreamer. He knew deep down in his heart that he too would live out his dreams. But for now it was pretty cool to be hanging around the garage with his best buddy and the man with a plan, the great Leroy Yarbrough.

The Sinclair Oil clock on the wall showed that it was nearly 10:00p.m. It was time for the boys to get home before somebody got worried. Annie Odum was a protective mother, and it was best if she dn’t have to come looking for one of her ks.

Leroy made his dreams a reality in the coming years. He would win many races in his short career. In 1969, he won NASCAR’s “Triple Crown” – the Daytona 500, the Firecracker 400, and the Southern 500 at Darlington. Nobody knows for sure what happened to Leroy. He had had too many wrecks to begin with, and it has been sa that he was bitten by a tick on a camping trip in 1971. He developed Rocky Mountain spotted fever. He changed after that. The fire in his eyes was replaced by a sad distance. The surefooted cockiness was replaced by confusion.

Gene has told me of the day that he ran into Leroy in the summer of 1980. Leroy was picking up soda bottles in the very ditches that Gene himself had picked them out of twenty years earlier and bouncing around living with different family members. He recognized Gene and sa, “I’m sure sorry to find out about our old friendRonnie I’m simply out here attempting to get me some drinking cash.” Gene gave Leroy five dollars and left his childhood hero, carrying a desperate sadness. All the mental institutions and overeducated doctors in the country couldn’t bring the great Leroy Yarbrough back from the edge of darkness. He was truly one of the great ones. It seems odd to me that you don’t hear his name mentioned in the NASCAR circles these days. Americans seem to only want to remember happy endings.

Gene gave me an old writing tablet that he had written poems in during his time of healing following the plane crash. I felt like the following poem fits well with this chapter.

        Turn the Pages

    I would like to go back to my boyhood days
    Football and baseball and that old hot rod craze
    A moonlit night on that cold dark lake
    Scaring all the girls with that black rubber snake
    If I could turn the pages back fifteen years
    Before all the broken hearts and so many tears
    Back to my bicycle and fishing pole
    Skinny dipping in the old swimming hole
    Before the tragedies that have occurred
    Feelings that were shattered by just a few words
    Back when I used to run home and check on my mother
    Playing football and baseball with my older brothers
    Those days are gone and they are over and done
    Only in my mind will they ever return
    If I could turn back the pages back fifteen years
    Before all of the broken hearts
    Before those many, many tears
            written by Gene Odom (1977)

Chapter Four

1969

“Summer of Love?”

In April 1969 Gene and Brenda’s friends were still being drafted. (Ronnie Van Zant dn’t need to worry because his ankle was full of pins necessary after a 1966 neighborhood football game injury.) Gene came home from the auto parts store on May 10, 1969 and was greeted with his draft papers. Brenda was scared and as Gene held his young wife, she looked up and asked “What are we going to do?” Gene just shrugged his shoulders and sa, “Go whoop some Vietnamese butt”. But before the butt-kicking could start, there was a certain hair stylist waiting with a pair of clippers at Fort Benning, Georgia. A lot of hair hit the floor that day and blue jeans were traded in for army fatigues. The next eight weeks would be tough. Georgia was breaking its own heat records during the summer of ’69, and more than a few soldiers couldn’t quite make the three mile run in formation. But just as always, the army turned a busload of softies into tough, trained killing machines. Following boot camp, Gene was allowed to go home to Brenda for six weeks. The time went by quickly. The first of August brought some good news. Instead of going to Vietnam, Gene would be sent to Germany for his final destination. Anywhere was better than a jungle with bullets flying around.

About 2:00 a.m. one morning, an army sergeant walked through the barracks calling out names. Gene’s name was called and within the hour he was aboard a C-130 transport plane en route to Germany. The plane stopped at the coast of Spain, then Ireland, finally landing in Frankfurt, Germany. Because of his previous welding experience, he was given a job as a welder. That position had opened up for him because the pre-existing welder had lost his life due to a drug overdose. Following his stint as a welder he was given the opportunity to work as a parts runner. A parts runner was an indivual that was responsible for making sure other mechanics had all of the parts required to do their indivual jobs.

Gene had spent 1 year, 11 months, and ten days in Germany. During the last ten days of his stay, or his ” cleaning out time”, as it was called, Gene was involved in an accent playing baseball. He had sl into third base and twisted his ankle to the point of being sent to Nuremburg Hospital. This resulted in a 10% disability income from the army.

Chapter Five

1972-1973

“Married with a Child”

Upon returning to America as a civilian, Gene returned into iron working and Brenda worked as a waitress. In 1972, Brenda brought to life their very first child. She resembled an angel sent out below paradise. Arriving 2 months early, she suited the palm of Gene’s hand. She had lovely red hair and was completely healthy. They called herMelissa Jean

During this time, Gene worked all over Flora and Georgia as an ironworker. If he was at house, he would frequently deal with his dad on a little, wood boat off the edge of Cumberland Island in theSt Johns River at night. This location of warm water fed into the ocean and was a substantial running ground for shrimp. It was not unusual to capture 700 to 800 pounds. a night utilizing an easy cast net.

(Continues)

Excerpted from Lynyrd Skynyrd, Ronnie Van Zant andMe Gene Odom by Scott Coner Copyright © 2011 byScott Coner Excerpted by consent of iUniverse,Inc All rights booked. No part of this excerpt might be recreated or reprinted without consent in composing from the publisher.
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