I got to thinking about this event in my life.  I was twenty-two years old and working for the summer in New Orleans for a company that is now defunct.  I was only making two dollars an hour and I was an hourly employee.  When the 4th of July came around, Darris, my boss told me that Steve and I (Steve was also a college student and an hourly employee) would have to work July 4th to earn our money.  Fine, we thought.

I decided to stroll down Bourbon Street that night instead of going directly home to my tiny (now destroyed because of Katrina) apartment in Araby.  Strangely, I ran into a person from college that I knew.  I will call him Vincent because his real name has long since escaped the database of hard facts my feeble brain attempts to keep.

I knew Vincent from college in Monroe, Louisiana where I was attending.  Vincent was an ex-SEAL and to say that he had a double pair of kahones would be putting it mildly.  After Vietnam, he had worked offshore Louisiana, drilling for oil.  Once, when a hurricane was bearing down on his offshore rig, he had volunteered to stay through the storm and keep the hatches battened (well, he collected a few thousand dollars from the oil company for his bravery).

Vincent had another talent - he could chug a pitcher of beer in one swallow!

Anyway, I took it on myself to show him the town.  There is little that I remember of that particular night except being threatened by someone for flirting with his wife.  Also, I have the vague remembrance of watching an old black man play a bronze dobro at some club along Bourbon.  I think he was Lightning Hopkins but I can't really swear to anything that happened that night.  The old man let me play "St. James Infirmary" on his axe and shared some stories with me - all of which I have forgotten!

Next morning, I somehow managed to make it to my job.  There was no one there but me.  I felt so horrible, that I found a dark closet and went to sleep.  Steve came in around ten and discovered me.  He wasn't in very good shape either and, as I remember it, we both left early.

Many years have passed and I never saw Vincent again, nor did I see Steve again after that summer.  He joined the Navy, and, like me, was soon bound for the jungles of Southeast Asia.  Still, to this day I fully believe I played St. James Infirmary on Lightning Hopkins beautiful bronze dobro.  If I didn't, don't tell me!

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