CARLTON FLETCHER: Close encounter with the CDB

You don’t like the way I’m living, just leave this long-haired country boy alone.

— Charlie Daniels Band

When I saw the announcement from Spectra — which is rapidly becoming synonymous with entertainment in southwest Georgia … thank goodness — a huge grin spread over my face.

Charlie Daniels Band to perform at Albany Municipal Auditorium.

It doesn’t matter that more than 40 years have passed; I hear the words “Charlie Daniels Band” and I’m taken back to 1976, to Crystal Lake in rural Irwin County. For perhaps the only time in that recreation spot’s history — at least the only time that I can remember — Crystal Lake hosted a rock concert. And my little part of the world was transported from a sleepy rural community to the center of the entertainment universe.

I remember that we couldn’t believe that Charlie and his band were actually coming to Irwin County, even as we bought tickets and were assured that it was indeed THE Charlie Daniels Band, the makers of the hilariously great “Uneasy Rider” and “Long-Haired Country Boy” and “Trudy” and “The South’s Gonna Do It” and “Caballo Diablo.”

Many in the rural county were skeptical about Crystal Lake, home of white sand beaches surrounding a natural, spring-fed lake, being the site of a rock concert. There were all those drugs associated with the “hippie music” of the day, and one of the band’s most popular songs even glorified the long hair that signified uncleanliness.

(Side Note: Crystal Lake is closed now, but in its day it was a popular spot for weekend outings. Of course, some of us who grew up in Irwin County were warned by our parents early on that if we insisted on going to that “haunted” place, we had to be prepared to contend with the fact that the lake had no bottom and that there were “nests” of water moccasins throughout the lake. I think there was a story of someone’s untimely end that tied in with the warning, but, of course, we went every chance we got, bottomlessness be damned.)

We got to the lake early, but it quickly became a sight to behold. On a good weekend, maybe 50 to 100 swimmers and picnickers came to Crystal Lake for an outing. On this afternoon, there were thousands and thousands, a crowd estimated at the time at 10,000, a few more than the population of the entire county. It was like a redneck Woodstock, without the brown acid.

There were drugs, though. Pot was as plentiful as the purported nests of snakes in the water, and the actions of some of the attendees indicated they may have been doing a little recreational experimenting with pharmaceuticals. The vibe was carnival-like; to this day I believe many of the people there — especially the locals — could not believe such a high-visibility event was taking place in our little backyard.

Things were peaceful at the show. I remember sitting on my brother’s shoulders and shooting 8-millimeter video footage from directly in front of the stage using our family’s old camera. I’d give many of my meager earthly belongings to know where that footage is today.

One of my best friends in high school, Mike Shuman (rest in peace, “Mac,” I still miss you) was the stepson of Irwin County Sheriff Leonard Pope (and, boy, does that enter into a lot of my stories from those days). I remember Mr. Leonard telling this story after the concert. He said that a group of guys on motorcycles rode up to the gate of the venue together, and I don’t want to get it wrong, but if I remember right the group he spoke with was from Albany and the riders were members of the Outlaws.

Sheriff Pope said he talked with the leader of the group and told him it was fine for the bikers to come in but that officers providing security would be watching them to make sure they didn’t get out of hand.

I remember Sheriff Pope telling the story: “That guy said, ‘There won’t be any trouble from us; we came to watch the show. But if your guys hassle us, we’ll tear this place apart.”

Everything went off without a hitch. The show was great, the bikers were true to their word, and for just that small blip in time, Irwin County got its moment in the entertainment spotlight. I’ll never forget it.

Staff Photo