life. I had run across Doug Gray a few
times in my life. I remember seeing him at Pic-A-Book in Spartanburg once. I tried to speak to him, but there were a lot of folks around him and I gave up too easily. Who would have ever imagined that he would one day be a close friend of mine. While writing- Carolina Dreams: The Musical Legacy of Upstate South Carolina (Marshall Tucker En- tertainment) back in 1996, I was interviewing the past members of The MTB, and fell into the trap of listening to the wrong people. Some self proclaimed “friends” of the band advised me against talking to Doug, stating that he was hard to talk to and didn’t like to be bothered with things like interviews. Boy howdy were they ever wrong. I ended up be- coming fast friends with Doug, who even helped me get Carolina Dreams into print via a company he and his manager Ron Rainey had started. Doug remains a friend today, and he is still carrying the MTB banner all around the country, doing hundreds of shows each year.
The band came back home to Spartan-
burg on April 21, 1980 after recording one of their hottest shows, live in Long Island, New York, for broadcast on The King Biscuit Flower Hour. The tour had been going ex- tremely well, but everyone was ready for a lit- tle time off back home. On April 22, Tommy Caldwell was in
his Land Cruiser on his way down Church Street to work out at the YMCA when the un- thinkable happened. Someone driving a 1965 Ford Galaxy had come to a complete stop in the lane directly in front of Caldwell. Tommy’s jeep had been modified for off-road driving, with huge tires that put the vehicle high in the air, so when he hit the stalled ve- hicle, the Jeep flipped over. Tommy was taken to the ER at Spar-
tanburg General Hospital, treated and admit- ted, but he was in a coma. I remember asking my sister Patsy for updates, because she was a
nurse there at the time. For the next six days, prayers and well wishes came in from all over the country and the world. Everyone waited. Tommy’s Mother and Father waited. They had just lost their youngest son, Tim, in an auto accident a month earlier. Tommy’s brother Toy waited. The Marshall Tucker Band waited.
Marshall Tucker Band, 1991 On April 28, 1980, Tommy Caldwell
passed away. Friends and family and fans alike were grief stricken. The world had lost one of it’s finest treasures, and The Marshall Tucker Band had lost it’s leader. The obvious choice for a replacement
came in the form of Franklin Wilkie, a one time member of The Toy Factory, and a life- long friend of Toy and Tommy. Later that year, WORD Radio DJ Sgt. Rick McAlister hosted a contest and asked listeners to write an essay as to why they loved the Marshall Tucker Band. I was among the winners who were treated to a ride by band bus down to Columbia for a Marshall Tucker and 38 Spe- cial show, along with backstage passes and a visit with the band after the show. That bus ride was fun. All I remember about it is there was a lot of smoke on the bus - and it wasn't from tobacco. During the early 1980’s, three members
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