for BigTrial.net
Today, on the streets of Macon, Georgia, people will stand in line along the route to the Rose Hill Cemetery to honor Gregg Allman, the pioneer Southern rocker who died at 69 on Memorial Day weekend.
At the cemetery, Gregg will be buried next to his older brother, Duane, the legendary slide guitarist who died at 24 in 1971 in a motorcycle accident on these same Macon streets.
The Allman Brothers Band gave their last concert in 2014 at the Beacon Theatre in New York, ending a 45 year-run. There was talk of a reunion but that's all over now that the last Allman Brother is dead. So today's graveyard procession will also serve as a final way to say goodbye to one of America's most original and influential rock bands.
It's a 1970s retro celebration. Former president Jimmy Carter will be there, along with Cher, one of Gregg's six wives. And Dicky Betts, a founding band member who left in 2000 after a messy public divorce, but reportedly patched things up with Gregg before he died of liver cancer.
Gregg's longtime manager has asked the mourners to dress casually, as in jeans and tie-dyed shirts. No suits.
I remember my first weekend at Mizzou. They showed a free movie in the auditorium at Jesse Hall, Gone With The Wind. The first scene in the movie was set on a Southern plantation, with slaves working in the cotton fields. To my amazement, the entire student body roared its approval.
In Missouri, the Confederate flag hung everywhere, and rock bands covered Hank Williams more than Mick Jagger. But everybody loved the Allman Brothers for inventing Southern rock. The band was unusual at the time because it was fronted by the two brothers, but was racially integrated. The original lineup featured two lead guitarists, Duane and Dicky Betts, and two drummers, Butch Trucks and Jaimoe.
I gravitated to the band after Duane's death, with hits at the time that included "Ramblin Man,""Jessica," and "Southbound." Eventually, however, I migrated to the earlier recordings of the original band, and there was no comparison.
There is no more life-affirming sound in all of music than the raw, primal screech of Duane Allman's slide guitar. Anybody who has listened to "Statesboro Blues," the opening tract on the live At Filllmore East album, knows what I am talking about.
Duane's slide guitar could also be lyrical, as in the final moments of "Mountain Jam." And transcendent, as in the last notes of Albert King's "You Don't Love Me," when Duane closed that song by reprising "Joy To The World."
It's just astounding stuff. To prove it, in 2004, Congress chose At Fillmore East as one of 50 recordings to be added to the Library of Congress.
They may have been one of America's most original rock bands, but they were also the most tragic. Duane and Gregg were just toddlers when their father, Willis, was robbed and shot to death at 31, the day after Christmas, 1949, by a hitchhiker he had just picked up.
The furious guitar playing of Willis's oldest son, Duane, was matched by his reckless motorcycle riding, and the white hot way way he burned through his all-too-brief life. After Duane assembled the original band, he stood in front of the doorway and announced, "Anybody in this room who's not going to play in my band, you're gonna have to fight your way out."
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"Duane was a ball of fire," Butch Trucks told Rolling Stone. "He walked into a room, everybody stopped and looked. If you're lucky, you meet one guy like him in your lifetime. Gregg was just a pretty boy. He had blonde hair, and the girls were hanging all over him."
The Allmans, of course, were a bunch of druggies. Duane usually played his guitar with his eyes closed and his mouth open, looking like he was in another place
The most famous photo of the band was taken on the streets of Macon across from their recording studio. According to Randy Poe, Duane's biographer, the band was out posing for hours on a frigid day because the photographer couldn't get them to smile. Then Duane saw a local drug dealer strolling by, and he scored a baggie, hidden in the photo under his hands. That's what the band is laughing about. And nobody was laughing harder than Gregg.
Brothers who are as close in age as Duane and Gregg were, just a year apart, have a way of living inside each other's heads. That's what made the band special. Like in the last minute of Statesboro Blues, after a screeching guitar solo from Duane, when Gregg is belting out the climax of that song.
"Love that woman . . ." Greg yells. And then Duane pops in, his guitar perfectly mimicking Greg's screech.
It was a magical combo that lasted unit Duane's last motorcycle ride in 1971. A year later, bass guitarist Berry Oakley, died in yet another tragic motorcycle accident on the streets of Macon, at 24. He's buried next to Duane at Rose Hill.
Amazingly, through all the tragedies and the drugs and the failed marriages, the band survived and had a second act. Warren Haynes joined the band, and so did Butch Truck's nephew, Derek Trucks, the most amazing slide guitarist since Duane. A guitar prodigy who at 13, used to open Allman Brothers concerts by playing "Layla."
When Derek played his slide guitar, old Allman Brothers fans got goosebumps. Gregg said that Derek reminded him so much of his older brother that it was other worldly.
"Do I believe in reincarnation?" Gregg wrote in My Cross to Bear, his autobiography. "After seeing Derek Trucks, how could I not . . . I have good peripheral vision, and sometimes I'll catch him out of the corner of my eye, and they way he stands looks just like my brother."
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They tried to make a movie about Duane and Gregg Allman in 2014. Midnight Rider was going to star William Hurt as Gregg. But when they were filming a movie scene at a railroad crossing, there was a train accident. One crew member died, and seven people were injured.
That was the end of Midnight Rider.
The tragedies continued. In 2010, Gregg needed a liver transplant This past January, drummer Butch Trucks shot himself to death, in front of his wife.
What is it with these guys?
But today, it's time to pause for a moment with Jimmy, Cher and Dicky. And say goodbye to a band, a sound, and a bygone era.
Rest in peace, Duane and Gregg.
Duane's slide guitar could also be lyrical, as in the final moments of "Mountain Jam." And transcendent, as in the last notes of Albert King's "You Don't Love Me," when Duane closed that song by reprising "Joy To The World."
It's just astounding stuff. To prove it, in 2004, Congress chose At Fillmore East as one of 50 recordings to be added to the Library of Congress.
They may have been one of America's most original rock bands, but they were also the most tragic. Duane and Gregg were just toddlers when their father, Willis, was robbed and shot to death at 31, the day after Christmas, 1949, by a hitchhiker he had just picked up.
The furious guitar playing of Willis's oldest son, Duane, was matched by his reckless motorcycle riding, and the white hot way way he burned through his all-too-brief life. After Duane assembled the original band, he stood in front of the doorway and announced, "Anybody in this room who's not going to play in my band, you're gonna have to fight your way out."
"Duane was a ball of fire," Butch Trucks told Rolling Stone. "He walked into a room, everybody stopped and looked. If you're lucky, you meet one guy like him in your lifetime. Gregg was just a pretty boy. He had blonde hair, and the girls were hanging all over him."The Allmans, of course, were a bunch of druggies. Duane usually played his guitar with his eyes closed and his mouth open, looking like he was in another place
The most famous photo of the band was taken on the streets of Macon across from their recording studio. According to Randy Poe, Duane's biographer, the band was out posing for hours on a frigid day because the photographer couldn't get them to smile. Then Duane saw a local drug dealer strolling by, and he scored a baggie, hidden in the photo under his hands. That's what the band is laughing about. And nobody was laughing harder than Gregg.
Brothers who are as close in age as Duane and Gregg were, just a year apart, have a way of living inside each other's heads. That's what made the band special. Like in the last minute of Statesboro Blues, after a screeching guitar solo from Duane, when Gregg is belting out the climax of that song.
"Love that woman . . ." Greg yells. And then Duane pops in, his guitar perfectly mimicking Greg's screech.
It was a magical combo that lasted unit Duane's last motorcycle ride in 1971. A year later, bass guitarist Berry Oakley, died in yet another tragic motorcycle accident on the streets of Macon, at 24. He's buried next to Duane at Rose Hill.
Amazingly, through all the tragedies and the drugs and the failed marriages, the band survived and had a second act. Warren Haynes joined the band, and so did Butch Truck's nephew, Derek Trucks, the most amazing slide guitarist since Duane. A guitar prodigy who at 13, used to open Allman Brothers concerts by playing "Layla."
When Derek played his slide guitar, old Allman Brothers fans got goosebumps. Gregg said that Derek reminded him so much of his older brother that it was other worldly.
"Do I believe in reincarnation?" Gregg wrote in My Cross to Bear, his autobiography. "After seeing Derek Trucks, how could I not . . . I have good peripheral vision, and sometimes I'll catch him out of the corner of my eye, and they way he stands looks just like my brother."
They tried to make a movie about Duane and Gregg Allman in 2014. Midnight Rider was going to star William Hurt as Gregg. But when they were filming a movie scene at a railroad crossing, there was a train accident. One crew member died, and seven people were injured.That was the end of Midnight Rider.
What is it with these guys?
But today, it's time to pause for a moment with Jimmy, Cher and Dicky. And say goodbye to a band, a sound, and a bygone era.
Rest in peace, Duane and Gregg.