Bobby was always the life of my party. So full of life. Always that smile. With it he was saying "Ya Man". Just so positive. He was not only active at East, but in his church and all about the Mint Hill area. Always busying running here or there. Always in a hurry. And that's what got him; the suspension in that old Dodge was shot and he rolled it trying to hang the curve on Idlewild at Thompsons that night. OH MY is a thought that just entered my mind. Now I know, he certainly had a "A" personality. Maybe the adrinaline and the "A" are what made him walk so far to get help, not realizing he was hirt so bad inside. He left us way too soon. I can just say he was, naturally, so cool, but could cut up, too.
"Tis" and I played in a local band around town the last two years before his wreck. What a drummer. He loved playing the song, "Honky Tonk"at a super duper beer joint near Shuffletown called Harwood Lakes. I would get my tenor cooking, he would get his shuffle beat a humming, and both of us tender young chaps would get a real lesson in life, how to "fight and not get cut"! Cause that is what those cats did, fight like the devil was in um, everytime we played that song. I'd look into Bobby's eyes, they were big as a watermelon.
Blacky, the 300 pound truck driver that owned the place, hated it every time we started Honky Tonk, cause he knew he would have to go to his truck and get his revolver. That's the only thing that would stop a fight at Harwood, Blacky would have to shoot up inside the roof to stop the "boys" and "girls", so they would put their switchblades back in their pockets. But, sometimes, the bullets did not make it out through the roof, and would hang around, inside the building for a few seconds. We all froze in place, it always made us a nervous wreck. But, Bobby and I made it through many nights there. Including the one when band members threw me and my alto into the lake to sober me. And, one morning about 5 oclock AM, I awakened in my churches cemetery, with the drivers door open and my leg resting on it. That night, I did not remember the good Lord driving me back to Mint Hill. Goes to say I never tried that brand again. What spodie. And, I was next to Papa Allens grave. I still remember that so vividly, cause both "He" and my Dad were trying to get my attention. They did. Imagine that.
That's why I wondered; the good Lord taking Tis so soon after that. We had both survived Harwood, and another out #74 called the "ole Owl Club". Talk about pistol shots. Al served bonded bootleg "likker" after hours, and sometimes, things would get out of hand. I could tell you a thousand stories, but you would not believe me. Just remember Bobby. What a wonderful human being. So much fun to be around. He'd come around the corner and always say, "T I is", meaning I'm here now. That's why we nicknamed him "Tis", pronounced T I is. But Tis always stayed away from the juice. With his personality, he knew he could not tolerate it, and actually did not need it to get cranked up. And such a patriot. He loved life, his parents, his community and his country. Being that young, it would surprise you to hear him talk politics, and what was wrong with our country; Today, he'd be ashamed of it.
Sometimes, Tis would take me home with him after a jig, and his Mom would cook us breakfast at 3 AM. Until I was a Dad, I was always amazed why parents would support us, in just about everything we did, even "across the tracks". My parents were the same way. They were just so supportive, and just wanted us to be happy, loving what we did, and being "safe". Yawl know. Ya, I leave the porch light on now a days, for my daughter Robyn, when she's out into the wee hours. And she knows why, too.
I loved Bobby Tisdale to death, no pun intended. I cherished his friendship so. My only reget, I do not have a photo of him(us)back then. I've asked everyone. If you got one, please let me know. I want to stare at that beautiful smile, just one more time. Denny
D. Denny Allen
Bobby was always the life of my party. So full of life. Always that smile. With it he was saying "Ya Man". Just so positive. He was not only active at East, but in his church and all about the Mint Hill area. Always busying running here or there. Always in a hurry. And that's what got him; the suspension in that old Dodge was shot and he rolled it trying to hang the curve on Idlewild at Thompsons that night. OH MY is a thought that just entered my mind. Now I know, he certainly had a "A" personality. Maybe the adrinaline and the "A" are what made him walk so far to get help, not realizing he was hirt so bad inside. He left us way too soon. I can just say he was, naturally, so cool, but could cut up, too.
"Tis" and I played in a local band around town the last two years before his wreck. What a drummer. He loved playing the song, "Honky Tonk"at a super duper beer joint near Shuffletown called Harwood Lakes. I would get my tenor cooking, he would get his shuffle beat a humming, and both of us tender young chaps would get a real lesson in life, how to "fight and not get cut"! Cause that is what those cats did, fight like the devil was in um, everytime we played that song. I'd look into Bobby's eyes, they were big as a watermelon.
Blacky, the 300 pound truck driver that owned the place, hated it every time we started Honky Tonk, cause he knew he would have to go to his truck and get his revolver. That's the only thing that would stop a fight at Harwood, Blacky would have to shoot up inside the roof to stop the "boys" and "girls", so they would put their switchblades back in their pockets. But, sometimes, the bullets did not make it out through the roof, and would hang around, inside the building for a few seconds. We all froze in place, it always made us a nervous wreck. But, Bobby and I made it through many nights there. Including the one when band members threw me and my alto into the lake to sober me. And, one morning about 5 oclock AM, I awakened in my churches cemetery, with the drivers door open and my leg resting on it. That night, I did not remember the good Lord driving me back to Mint Hill. Goes to say I never tried that brand again. What spodie. And, I was next to Papa Allens grave. I still remember that so vividly, cause both "He" and my Dad were trying to get my attention. They did. Imagine that.
That's why I wondered; the good Lord taking Tis so soon after that. We had both survived Harwood, and another out #74 called the "ole Owl Club". Talk about pistol shots. Al served bonded bootleg "likker" after hours, and sometimes, things would get out of hand. I could tell you a thousand stories, but you would not believe me. Just remember Bobby. What a wonderful human being. So much fun to be around. He'd come around the corner and always say, "T I is", meaning I'm here now. That's why we nicknamed him "Tis", pronounced T I is. But Tis always stayed away from the juice. With his personality, he knew he could not tolerate it, and actually did not need it to get cranked up. And such a patriot. He loved life, his parents, his community and his country. Being that young, it would surprise you to hear him talk politics, and what was wrong with our country; Today, he'd be ashamed of it.
Sometimes, Tis would take me home with him after a jig, and his Mom would cook us breakfast at 3 AM. Until I was a Dad, I was always amazed why parents would support us, in just about everything we did, even "across the tracks". My parents were the same way. They were just so supportive, and just wanted us to be happy, loving what we did, and being "safe". Yawl know. Ya, I leave the porch light on now a days, for my daughter Robyn, when she's out into the wee hours. And she knows why, too.
I loved Bobby Tisdale to death, no pun intended. I cherished his friendship so. My only reget, I do not have a photo of him(us)back then. I've asked everyone. If you got one, please let me know. I want to stare at that beautiful smile, just one more time. Denny