I worked for Caroline Tool selling equipment for about 10 years, off and on. I’ve been trying to get all of my road stories together for a book. This is one, among hundreds…………..
I had just gotten permission from the company to leave Atlanta. My new territory was Milwaukee, Wisconsin. I traveled with my new co worker, Tommy, aka Tex Jones. He was an ex-grip for Lynyrd Skynyrd and his ex-biker chick girlfriend, Debbie Ellington.
Tommy’s sister Jean was in my home class all six years of high school. She sat next to me in typing class for two years. I couldn’t type, then nor now. Jean would type my name on her paper and turn it in during speed trials so that I would pass. When Tommy came to me asking for a job, well I felt like I owed her. He was a character alright, now going by the name Tex. He came with a cowboy hat, rodeo buckle, boots and a misfit attitude
His new girl Debbie won the contest the night before. We were at the Silver Saddle on Stuart Avenue off Cleveland Road, in Atlanta. When the band went on break, Tex stood up on stage and announced that he was looking for a new girlfriend. He said that all applicants must have at least 5 tattoos. He was holding interviews in the men’s bathroom.”
Just as I walked into the men’s room to check on him, I overheard Tex say, “I don’t see but four tats. Debbie dropped her drawers right then and there to show him number five. He later told me that he chose Debbie because she looked like she could take care of herself. He didn’t want a woman that depended on him all the time.
Getting out of Atlanta really fired me up. It seemed like I had been there for two forevers. My previous crew got homesick and run off, leaving me with a tractor trailer load of equipment to sell by myself. When Tex asked me for a job, I thought he was a Godsend. I was eager for some help, not to mention the company. It didn’t take long before it seemed like I was spending all my money on whores, bars and motel room repairs, not to mention keeping Tex out of jail. I was spending money just as fast as I made it.
Now, we were heading for Milwaukee to meet up with Wayne Holland and his gimp crew out of Macon. New guys on the crew were called gimps. Wayne needed help training his new crew. That day, the sun was shining, not a cloud in the sky. We were riding in my gold edition Trans Am with the T-tops down. It was a beautiful day. I guess I was enjoying the moment.
Tex was riding shotgun, Debbie was in the back seat, her long brown hair was blowing in the wind. That could be why I couldn’t see the state trooper in the rear view mirror, he later said that he’d been chasing me for miles. When the trooper finally caught up with us, he pulled me over for doing 105 mph on the interstate as we were driving through Rockport, Illinois, just outside of Chicago.
He was really mad and acted like a jerk. He started going off on me, saying that I must be trying to commit vehicular homicide going that fast. He said I wasn’t just going to get a ticket, I was going to jail.
I guess he never saw Bandit, or maybe he did. My bond would be at least $1,500.00 he said. Thinking that there was no need to get upset, that’s cool, I got that. Just about that time, Tex pulled the officer over to one side and said, “Occifer, can y’all do it up here the same way we do it back home and let us pay the fine on side of the road? I don’t need no cash ticket.” Then he handed him two one hundred dollar bills and held up both hands as if it was an act of surrender.
I remember telling the trooper not to listen to him. I told the cop that Tex wasn’t wrapped too tight and doesn’t realize what he’s saying.
In South Carolina, you can do that, but evidently not in the state of Illinois. The next thing I heard was, “You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”
Aw heck. we both went to jail.
When we got to the Police Station in Rockport, cash money, my bond was only $150.00. I paid it and was released. Tex’s bond was $10,000.00. They said we needed it all in cash. I was about $3,000.00 short. I hated to leave Tex in jail in a foreign country but it was time to come up with a plan.
Debbie and I got a room at the Holiday Inn to chill out and figure out our next move. I got on the phone trying to call in some markers but to no avail. When you need money, no one answers the phone. Debbie went out for a while, when she got back she told me that she’d been selling baking soda on the corner and made about $300.00. Baking soda? So that’s what they call it nowadays, huh? Even if that was true, we were still way short of what we needed.
The next morning when Tex went to court, me and Debbie were sitting on the wooden bench right behind the handcuffed prisoners who were waiting to see the judge.
Trying to play on the judge’s sympathy, Tex told the judge that he was a Georgia boy and wasn’t familiar with the way the police up here do business. Tommy was still wearing his cowboy hat in court. The judge told him that he should remove his hat in court.
Trying to be funny, Tex told the judge, “Your Honor, there’s more women that seen me without my pants than seen me without my hat.”
The judge wasn’t fooling around, he said, “Fine, fine. Let’s make it 10 days.”
Tex took his hat off then and said loud enough for everyone in the courtroom to hear, “I’m from Nahunta, Georgia and I can do 10 days standing on my head.” Then he did so, right in the courtroom. His boots had holes in them the size of a silver dollar. Judging by the laughter, the newspaper packing he had covering the holes was visible to everyone in the courtroom.
The judge slammed his gavel down and gruffly said, “Well, I’m from Macon, let’s just make that 30 days.”
That afternoon I called the factory back in Carolina and found out that Tex had left a message for us on the 1-800 number. He said that he was going out on a work truck in the morning and for us to follow him out.
At that point, our backs were up against the wall. We didn’t have a plan, we were just going to check it out and see what happens.
The next morning, me and Debbie were in the Trans Am, T-tops in the trunk, parked behind the municipal complex that housed the jail. After waiting for about 30 minutes we saw a big deuce and a quarter work truck headed out of the jail compound with a bunch of guys standing with their arms hanging over the side.
Sure enough, the tallest one, wearing a prison uniform, waving his cowboy hat at us, was Tex Jones. These guys were the men you see on side of the road picking up trash, slinging weeds and mowing grass. We followed the truck out into the countryside. The truck stopped on a deserted two lane road, about two miles from the county line. As the men got to work they were strung out on side of the road for a couple hundred yards, to sling weeds and pick up trash.
Each of the two guards held a shotgun in the crook of their arms, walking casually back and forth. One was in front of the truck and the other guarding the rear.
When I seen Tex duck into a ditch with some chest high weeds, I eased up behind them, driving slowly past with the radio blasting. As I passed the work crew I waved and gunned the motor peeling wheels, then I did a half turn and a four wheel power slide coming to a halt, Bandit style. Debbie got out of the car and slammed the door. She started walking away from me and everybody else. Boy was she shaking it, like she was mad. She was dressed in her daisy dukes with heels and a halter top. A bright red scarf was tied loosely around her neck, with the ends flapping in the wind.
Everybody was watching her, guards and inmates. Heck, even I wanted to stare at her, that morning, she looked that good. I drove back down the road the way I had come. I could see that the guards were ignoring me and watching her. After I drove past about a quarter mile I did a 180 and eased back up on them. All eyes were focused on Debbie, still shaking it, heading north on the two lane road. When I got close to the rear of the big truck I slowed the Trans Am down to a crawl. Here come ole Tex out of the weeds. He dove into the back of the car through the open top.
I maintained a slow, steady speed like nothing was going on, easing up on Debbie with the radio still blasting. Tex was curled up in the fetal position in the back seat. She turns and smiles, opens the door, hesitating before she got in. She turned to blow all the guys a kiss. Then she untied the red scarf and let it go, into the wind.
Then it was pedal to the medal. “Just watch old Bandit run.”
We made a clean getaway. Years later Tex went to work for the US Airforce installing flight simulators on military bases. How he got clearance is anybody’s guess but I suspect his sister Jean had something to do with it. After high school Jean went to work for the State Attorney’s Office and later the FBI. Later when I tried to call her, she just hung up the phone.
Tex? Oh, Tommy met a gal named Crystal King when we were partying in Kansas City. Her family owned the King Ranch in south Texas. The were married and had 7 children. Loretta, Waylon, the twins Jesse and Frank, Texie, Tom Paul and Crystal Gayle.
Tex and his wife Crystal both passed away early. Much too early. Their kids are now thriving in south Texas. Jessie was on American Idol. He was the third runner up to Carrie Underwood. He said that they promised him a contract but all he got to do was drive the tour bus.
The last time I saw Debbie, I flew her home from Kansas City. I went by her Grandma’s and Grandpa’s house in the inner city of Atlanta to check on her. They told me that she she married a biker and moved to Daytona Beach to open up a tattoo parlor.
Francis Hawkins owned Carolina Tool and Equipment. She also owned a nice high rise hotel, right on the main drag on the water in Daytona Beach. She sponsored David Pearson. She later told me that Debbie came by during the race festivities and showed her a new tattoo. It was a crossed pair of checkered flags on her shoulder with the name “Mike” right below.
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Mike is a writer now living in Atlantic Beach, and loves to tell stories about growing up in and around the First Coast. He also love animals …
