Back in 1975 I was living in an old boarding house in Union City, Georgia with the Carrie Nation band. We had “inherited” the place from the former tenant, a pilot for Delta Airlines, who warned us that it was haunted by the spirit of a young woman or girl. We didn’t take him too seriously, since he was known as a fan of psychedelic drugs.
One day the manager of the band showed up with John, who fancied himself as our spiritual advisor. John directed us to form a circle in the living room and join hands. He then asked us to close our eyes and channel our energy into the cosmic connection.
We were skeptical, but humored him. Oddly enough, I really could feel the hair on my arms tingle as if I was experiencing a static electric charge. At the same time I could hear a woman’s voice, although I couldn’t make out any words. There was also a crash that sounded like pots and pans falling over.
As we broke the connection, the other guys were excited. “Did you hear that?” they exclaimed. “Why,” I asked. “Wasn’t that Billy’s (Smart) girlfriend Donna?”
No, after further inspection, it turned out there was no one in the house but us.
Some time later, lead guitarist Marty Bone showed up for practice with a new song that needed lyrics. Inspired by our shared experience, I wrote the words as Marty played the tune. The song became the Carrie Nation national anthem.
We never heard any more from our spirit roommate, and in December of ’75 we left Georgia and relocated in Nevada City, California. Recently, I did a Google search and discovered that the old house was gone, replaced by a new jailhouse.
And also, a master tape of the song resurfaced after 50 years. This is it.
It’s almost March again, and this Saturday is packed with things to do. At 9:30am the annual St. Piran’s Day festivities are held at the MillSt. Mall. At 12:30 historian Hank Meals will speak on the history of Camptonville at the Helling Library in Nevada City. At 2:30 the Mardi Gras parade begins downtown, and this year the Merry Widows will honor my late wife, Mary Ann.
