"Come Saturday morning, I'm goin' away with my friend We'll Saturday-spend till the end of the day, just I and my friend We'll travel for miles in our Saturday smiles and then we'll move on But we will remember long after Saturday's gone."
Ronnie Owen was my friend, and always will be. I met him when in the 10th grade at the old South Side. He was buddies with Don Presley and Carrel Turner, and pretty soon we all seemed to be hanging out together a lot, although it was rare for all four of us to be together at the same time. Ronnie and Carrel had part time jobs, and they had cars, or at least access to cars. I admired that, and wanted to figure out how to swing all of that myself, plus keep my grades up. It was a constant balancing act: money, time, grades, and social life.
Ronnie was Mr. Social Life. He was funny and charming, and anyone around him had fun also. We would study together, talk about life, and then laugh and talk some more. Ronnie was my entree into a group of South Memphis kids who hung around together a lot after we graduated from high school. Most of us were going to Memphis State, but not all. There was a group of us, sometimes four or five, somes ten or fifteen, who would often get together. Ronnie and Doris Hutcheson were the ringleaders."What's the gang doing this afternoon?" would pulse through half a dozen phone lines. Looking back, it all seems so innocent. As far as I know, nobody actually drank, not sure anybody smoked, and certainly no drugs. Just laughter. Trips to Leonard's, to the banks of the River on Sunday afternoon, parties at Doris's house. Lots of laughter. Sardis. Arkabutla. Overton Park. Anywhere and everwhere.
It can be a tough time right after high school. One isn't a kid anymore, and adult responsibilities are setting in. Whether in the first few years of college, or trade school, or boot camp, or whatever, one is generally still not in control of their life, and usually a little bit "un-monied." For me, it was a great comfort to have a group of friends, people who understood, people facing the same issues. None of us were rich kids, so we couldn't just party endlessly and not worry about grades or responsibilities. South Memphis kids just weren't like that. But we had each other, and it was such a thrill for a bunch of us to load up in Ronnie's car on a Sunday afternoon and cruise aimlessly. He originally had a big Pontiac, and I remember once when we went to Shelby Forest and he pushed the speedometer up to 80 mph. At our prodding he revved it up some more--85...90..do I hear 95? We had pushed the thing pretty close to 100, zipping along the narrow winding road through Shelby Forest, before finally slowing down. I shudder to think how easily something could have happened to us. Later he had a Mustang, and I felt so super-cool riding in it with as many of us packed into it as possible.
I try to remember who all were in our "gang," but it's hard to recollect exactly. I know I am leaving somebody out and including somebody who may not have ever been a part of it (but feel free to consider it a compliment if I have included you). There was Ronnie and Doris, of course, plus Doris's brother Neal and her sister Nell, then Don Presley, Jennifer Norris, Patsy Roser, Rosemary Ryder, Joyce Higginbotham, a couple of guys from Millington that we knew from Memphis State (those female pheromones send out some strong signals, luring guys in from all directions); plus some kids with deep South Memphis roots who had graduated elsewhere, such as April Phelps, Marsha Spears, and Judy Hartsfield, along with Ronnie's cousin Vicky, who I always thought was very cute but she resembled him so much I tried to repress any feelings of attraction toward her. On at least one occasion we had Brenda Horton, Nancy Luna, Carrel Turner, and, from Westwood and AB Hill, Ernie Hubbard. And more, I'm sure of that.
The gang hung together pretty well all through college, then we went our separate ways--into the Real World. Ronnie got married before I left at the end of college, to a woman he worked with, but we really didn't know very well. A lot of us went to his wedding, but it was at that point I began to sense a distance growing between him and the rest of us. That happens, you understand. We have to make a pact with the real world, and it's not uncommon to just grow in a different direction. After college I went into the Air Force and came back a married man. Most of the old connections were still there, just everybody busy, though. I remember a fun evening at Doris's house, with Don and Doris, and several others--Pat Swain (Casey now) and John Casey. I knew then that those deep high school/South Memphis/college connections were the best. One could go a long time and not see someone, then pick right up where you left off.
Ronnie seemed to be missing from the group, though. I got smatterings of this, or that, but not much info. I moved away in '75, coming back usually during holidays and still seeing a few people from the old crowd. But not Ronnie. I missed hiim. He was just so much fun to talk to, and such an instigator of fun. Things were just livelier when he was around.
I went to the 20th South Side reunion, and there he was. Oh my, what a hoot. The same old wonderful guy. He told me that he'd had a good life, and that he didn't regret anything he had done. That was in August of '84. In the winter of '85, along about late January/early February, he went out one evening and decided to stop at a book store. I won't be much more descriptive except to say it was one to which most of us have never gone.....it wasn't Barnes & Noble. As he was returning to his car from the book store, he may have noticed two larger vehicles on either side of his--vans, I think. Something was going on, something that had nothing to do with him. Maybe it was a drug deal gone bad, maybe it was a case of someone not wanting him to witness what had just happened. Maybe this. Maybe that. But we do know that shots rang out. We do know that Ronnie was killed, right there in the parking lot; maybe a designated target, maybe just caught in the crossfire. Maybe going to that particular book store wasn't the smartest thing he could have ever done, but should he pay for that with his life?
I had just returned from the athletic club that evening, all flush with the righteous glow of having-just-excercised when my wife told me that Don had called and told her about Ronnie's death. I broke down crying immediately. I thought of that wonderful visit we had just less than six months previously.
Jennifer called me at work about the burial arrangements, but I didn't go to his funeral. I was, after all, in Little Rock; and it's winter and bad weather and on and on and oh, hell..... I know now that, no matter what, I should have gone. I deeply regret not making the effort to drive from Little Rock to Memphis for the funeral of my dear friend. So I just sat home and fretted. "In the wrong place, at the wrong time," I told myself. Could have happened to any of us, in one way or another. But that's no comfort at all, is it?
In my present day life, there are several groups that I hang around with sometimes here in Little Rock. They scratch that itch for socialization, but they don't begin to replace the feelings I had when I was running around with Ronnie and Don and Doris and all of the other kids. Ronnie made it special. I wish I had told him, but I didn't, & now I can't. This is the next best thing I can do, the only thing at this point.
"Come Saturday morning, I'm going away with my friend
We'll Saturday-laugh more than half of the day Just I and my friend Dressed up in our rings and our Saturday things And then we'll move on. But we will remember, long after Saturday's gone"
Mike you always know how to say the right thing to make us feel better. I knew ronnie from church and school and after school we worked for the same grocerychain. He was always so upbeat like you said . My heart broke when i read what had happened to him and i never will understand but life has a way of moving us along. My twin boys kept me busy which was good as i didnt like to think about ronnie and carrel being gone. Thank you for giving me the strength to remember these two fine young men who left us before their lives really took off. Hope to see you and don at the next reunion or whenever you come this way let rosie or me pr jennifer or judy know. We can all get together for coffee. Brenda wright milton
Brenda, thank you so much for your kind words. I am so glad we got to talk at the reunion, & I really enjoyed visiting with Johnny. Yes, will be nice to get some of us together for a lively chat over coffee, tea, craft beer, clam juice, just whatever.
Hi Mike, I've truly enjoyed all of your comments on these fine men that are no longer with us it's good to here the things that they did accomplish. Brenda and I went to church with Carrel and Ronnie and Jennifer. I'm sorry that I didn't get the chance to be with your group of wonderful people. I always had a big crush on Carrel. Only Brenda knew that. I always thought that you all were smarter than me. Love you, Judy J
Judy, thanks so much. Yeah, wish you had been with us all, too; would have made it even greater. I am heartened to hear the positive response of my classmates to my remembrance of Carrel & Ronnie. I recall telling Carrel: “XYZ has a crush on you,” or “ABC really likes you,” but to no avail. He would just blush & shrug his shoulders. Our senior year there was a girl, maybe in the 10th grade, who asked him out during TWIRP week, & they dated for a long time. We spent many hours discussing dating strategy & protocol. He ended up marrying a girl from Overton right after we both graduated from Memphis State. I was honored to be in Carrel’s wedding party. Shyness, of course, was never an issue with Ronnie. There was a girl he was crazy about (name withheld out of respect for her privacy), but it never worked out. Ronnie was the most savvy in the ways of the world of all my friends, but looking back I realize how naive we all really were. My mom loved talking to him and thought he was really funny. She was right.
And no, we were not smarter than you or anyone else, definitely not. Just full of insecurities & the mixed feelings of joy & terror that are part of growing up.
Mike,
Again, you have brought us back to those innocent times. As I have lost John and many others, I feel like as the song reminds me that "the longer I (serve) know them the sweeter they grow, the more that I love them, more love they bestowed. This is certainly paraphrased but it is true. When we had John's memorial, I told everyone that I told them that I loved them, a filial or brotherly love and I meant that. I remember Leslie Moncrief told as he loved me and we all need to show and say it. We have less time to express our feelings than an hour ago. The beauty and innocence of our group was unique. Buddies for over 50 years. Since John has gone I want to be closer than ever. Many I have not seen since until high school but the closeness is tangible. Maybe I call more than I should. It is a genuine brother or sister feeling and so very lonely without John.
Ronnie and Carrell, and the others we have lost, was too soon. I would love to regularly meet as we can and make it a priority. And more importantly, to each and everyone please know I LOVE YOU,MY FRIENDS and I WILL tell you every time I talk to you. Please let our Scrappers tell each other. Patty Casey
Mike, beautiful words spoken of a best friend. Even though you may not have told him how you felt, I’m sure he knew. Thanks for sharing your memories. Connie B.
Connie, thanks so much for the kind words. We all have stories and memories, and I am afraid if we don't get them archived and/or shared in some way, they are going to slip away; and the rich history of our generation and neighborhood will be lost forever. I want them to last as long as possible, as inspiration and example to those who follow behind us.
Michael Cobb
MY FRIEND
"Come Saturday morning, I'm goin' away with my friend We'll Saturday-spend till the end of the day, just I and my friend We'll travel for miles in our Saturday smiles and then we'll move on But we will remember long after Saturday's gone."
Ronnie Owen was my friend, and always will be. I met him when in the 10th grade at the old South Side. He was buddies with Don Presley and Carrel Turner, and pretty soon we all seemed to be hanging out together a lot, although it was rare for all four of us to be together at the same time. Ronnie and Carrel had part time jobs, and they had cars, or at least access to cars. I admired that, and wanted to figure out how to swing all of that myself, plus keep my grades up. It was a constant balancing act: money, time, grades, and social life.
Ronnie was Mr. Social Life. He was funny and charming, and anyone around him had fun also. We would study together, talk about life, and then laugh and talk some more. Ronnie was my entree into a group of South Memphis kids who hung around together a lot after we graduated from high school. Most of us were going to Memphis State, but not all. There was a group of us, sometimes four or five, somes ten or fifteen, who would often get together. Ronnie and Doris Hutcheson were the ringleaders."What's the gang doing this afternoon?" would pulse through half a dozen phone lines. Looking back, it all seems so innocent. As far as I know, nobody actually drank, not sure anybody smoked, and certainly no drugs. Just laughter. Trips to Leonard's, to the banks of the River on Sunday afternoon, parties at Doris's house. Lots of laughter. Sardis. Arkabutla. Overton Park. Anywhere and everwhere.
It can be a tough time right after high school. One isn't a kid anymore, and adult responsibilities are setting in. Whether in the first few years of college, or trade school, or boot camp, or whatever, one is generally still not in control of their life, and usually a little bit "un-monied." For me, it was a great comfort to have a group of friends, people who understood, people facing the same issues. None of us were rich kids, so we couldn't just party endlessly and not worry about grades or responsibilities. South Memphis kids just weren't like that. But we had each other, and it was such a thrill for a bunch of us to load up in Ronnie's car on a Sunday afternoon and cruise aimlessly. He originally had a big Pontiac, and I remember once when we went to Shelby Forest and he pushed the speedometer up to 80 mph. At our prodding he revved it up some more--85...90..do I hear 95? We had pushed the thing pretty close to 100, zipping along the narrow winding road through Shelby Forest, before finally slowing down. I shudder to think how easily something could have happened to us. Later he had a Mustang, and I felt so super-cool riding in it with as many of us packed into it as possible.
I try to remember who all were in our "gang," but it's hard to recollect exactly. I know I am leaving somebody out and including somebody who may not have ever been a part of it (but feel free to consider it a compliment if I have included you). There was Ronnie and Doris, of course, plus Doris's brother Neal and her sister Nell, then Don Presley, Jennifer Norris, Patsy Roser, Rosemary Ryder, Joyce Higginbotham, a couple of guys from Millington that we knew from Memphis State (those female pheromones send out some strong signals, luring guys in from all directions); plus some kids with deep South Memphis roots who had graduated elsewhere, such as April Phelps, Marsha Spears, and Judy Hartsfield, along with Ronnie's cousin Vicky, who I always thought was very cute but she resembled him so much I tried to repress any feelings of attraction toward her. On at least one occasion we had Brenda Horton, Nancy Luna, Carrel Turner, and, from Westwood and AB Hill, Ernie Hubbard. And more, I'm sure of that.
The gang hung together pretty well all through college, then we went our separate ways--into the Real World. Ronnie got married before I left at the end of college, to a woman he worked with, but we really didn't know very well. A lot of us went to his wedding, but it was at that point I began to sense a distance growing between him and the rest of us. That happens, you understand. We have to make a pact with the real world, and it's not uncommon to just grow in a different direction. After college I went into the Air Force and came back a married man. Most of the old connections were still there, just everybody busy, though. I remember a fun evening at Doris's house, with Don and Doris, and several others--Pat Swain (Casey now) and John Casey. I knew then that those deep high school/South Memphis/college connections were the best. One could go a long time and not see someone, then pick right up where you left off.
Ronnie seemed to be missing from the group, though. I got smatterings of this, or that, but not much info. I moved away in '75, coming back usually during holidays and still seeing a few people from the old crowd. But not Ronnie. I missed hiim. He was just so much fun to talk to, and such an instigator of fun. Things were just livelier when he was around.
I went to the 20th South Side reunion, and there he was. Oh my, what a hoot. The same old wonderful guy. He told me that he'd had a good life, and that he didn't regret anything he had done. That was in August of '84. In the winter of '85, along about late January/early February, he went out one evening and decided to stop at a book store. I won't be much more descriptive except to say it was one to which most of us have never gone.....it wasn't Barnes & Noble. As he was returning to his car from the book store, he may have noticed two larger vehicles on either side of his--vans, I think. Something was going on, something that had nothing to do with him. Maybe it was a drug deal gone bad, maybe it was a case of someone not wanting him to witness what had just happened. Maybe this. Maybe that. But we do know that shots rang out. We do know that Ronnie was killed, right there in the parking lot; maybe a designated target, maybe just caught in the crossfire. Maybe going to that particular book store wasn't the smartest thing he could have ever done, but should he pay for that with his life?
I had just returned from the athletic club that evening, all flush with the righteous glow of having-just-excercised when my wife told me that Don had called and told her about Ronnie's death. I broke down crying immediately. I thought of that wonderful visit we had just less than six months previously.
Jennifer called me at work about the burial arrangements, but I didn't go to his funeral. I was, after all, in Little Rock; and it's winter and bad weather and on and on and oh, hell..... I know now that, no matter what, I should have gone. I deeply regret not making the effort to drive from Little Rock to Memphis for the funeral of my dear friend. So I just sat home and fretted. "In the wrong place, at the wrong time," I told myself. Could have happened to any of us, in one way or another. But that's no comfort at all, is it?
In my present day life, there are several groups that I hang around with sometimes here in Little Rock. They scratch that itch for socialization, but they don't begin to replace the feelings I had when I was running around with Ronnie and Don and Doris and all of the other kids. Ronnie made it special. I wish I had told him, but I didn't, & now I can't. This is the next best thing I can do, the only thing at this point.
"Come Saturday morning, I'm going away with my friend
We'll Saturday-laugh more than half of the day Just I and my friend Dressed up in our rings and our Saturday things And then we'll move on. But we will remember, long after Saturday's gone"
REST IN PEACE--RONNIE OWEN--MY FRIEND
Rosemary Rider (Parsley)
Mike, this was a Great post about our Friend and Classmate Ronnie Owen.So sorry that he left us way to soon!
He always made us laugh!
Many Wonderful Memories, Rosemary 🌹🌹
Michael Cobb
Thanks, Rosemary. Been meaning to write this for a while, but needed to be at my emotional best when doing it. My mom adored Ronnie.
Brenda Milton (Wright)
Mike you always know how to say the right thing to make us feel better. I knew ronnie from church and school and after school we worked for the same grocerychain. He was always so upbeat like you said . My heart broke when i read what had happened to him and i never will understand but life has a way of moving us along. My twin boys kept me busy which was good as i didnt like to think about ronnie and carrel being gone. Thank you for giving me the strength to remember these two fine young men who left us before their lives really took off. Hope to see you and don at the next reunion or whenever you come this way let rosie or me pr jennifer or judy know. We can all get together for coffee. Brenda wright milton
Michael Cobb
Brenda, thank you so much for your kind words. I am so glad we got to talk at the reunion, & I really enjoyed visiting with Johnny. Yes, will be nice to get some of us together for a lively chat over coffee, tea, craft beer, clam juice, just whatever.
Judy Jackson
Hi Mike, I've truly enjoyed all of your comments on these fine men that are no longer with us it's good to here the things that they did accomplish. Brenda and I went to church with Carrel and Ronnie and Jennifer. I'm sorry that I didn't get the chance to be with your group of wonderful people. I always had a big crush on Carrel. Only Brenda knew that. I always thought that you all were smarter than me. Love you, Judy JMichael Cobb
Judy, thanks so much. Yeah, wish you had been with us all, too; would have made it even greater. I am heartened to hear the positive response of my classmates to my remembrance of Carrel & Ronnie. I recall telling Carrel: “XYZ has a crush on you,” or “ABC really likes you,” but to no avail. He would just blush & shrug his shoulders. Our senior year there was a girl, maybe in the 10th grade, who asked him out during TWIRP week, & they dated for a long time. We spent many hours discussing dating strategy & protocol. He ended up marrying a girl from Overton right after we both graduated from Memphis State. I was honored to be in Carrel’s wedding party. Shyness, of course, was never an issue with Ronnie. There was a girl he was crazy about (name withheld out of respect for her privacy), but it never worked out. Ronnie was the most savvy in the ways of the world of all my friends, but looking back I realize how naive we all really were. My mom loved talking to him and thought he was really funny. She was right.
And no, we were not smarter than you or anyone else, definitely not. Just full of insecurities & the mixed feelings of joy & terror that are part of growing up.
Hope we can see you again soon.
Patty Swain (Casey)
Mike,
Again, you have brought us back to those innocent times. As I have lost John and many others, I feel like as the song reminds me that "the longer I (serve) know them the sweeter they grow, the more that I love them, more love they bestowed. This is certainly paraphrased but it is true. When we had John's memorial, I told everyone that I told them that I loved them, a filial or brotherly love and I meant that. I remember Leslie Moncrief told as he loved me and we all need to show and say it. We have less time to express our feelings than an hour ago. The beauty and innocence of our group was unique. Buddies for over 50 years. Since John has gone I want to be closer than ever. Many I have not seen since until high school but the closeness is tangible. Maybe I call more than I should. It is a genuine brother or sister feeling and so very lonely without John.
Ronnie and Carrell, and the others we have lost, was too soon. I would love to regularly meet as we can and make it a priority. And more importantly, to each and everyone please know I LOVE YOU,MY FRIENDS and I WILL tell you every time I talk to you. Please let our Scrappers tell each other. Patty Casey
Connie Rae Ditto (Barnhart)
Mike, beautiful words spoken of a best friend. Even though you may not have told him how you felt, I’m sure he knew. Thanks for sharing your memories. Connie B.
Michael Cobb
Connie, thanks so much for the kind words. We all have stories and memories, and I am afraid if we don't get them archived and/or shared in some way, they are going to slip away; and the rich history of our generation and neighborhood will be lost forever. I want them to last as long as possible, as inspiration and example to those who follow behind us.