• The KillerFrogs

Midnight Cowboy - RIP

He was the soundtrack of my childhood. Can't tell you how many Rangers and Mavericks games I'd listen to as I went to bed. Inevitably, I'd fall asleep before the game was over but would wake up some time past midnight to hear the sound of an 18-wheeler's horn blowing. I'd fall asleep again and wake up to Moe Bandy's Rodeo Clown or Bobby Bare singing about being dropkicked through the goalposts of life by the one and only son of God.
 

Dogfrog

Active Member
In high school and college back in the 70’s used to eat at the old Sammy’s BBQ occasionally, and he was often there in the little front bar area preparing for his show. His show was a real blessing if you were on a long drive late at night. RIP.
 

HG73

Active Member
In high school and college back in the 70’s used to eat at the old Sammy’s BBQ occasionally, and he was often there in the little front bar area preparing for his show. His show was a real blessing if you were on a long drive late at night. RIP.
Liked for Sammy's BBQ. We got our driver's licenses at 14 (I looked about 12) and one evening Mickey Duer and I drove to Sammy's for the express purpose of seeing if they'd sell us a beer. Waitress didn't bat an eye, came right back with two Schlitz. I think I may have gagged down half of mine with my sandwich. First beer (or half beer) I ever had. I remember wondering what other doors would open now that I had a learner's permit. If I only knew.
 

Dogfrog

Active Member
Liked for Sammy's BBQ. We got our driver's licenses at 14 (I looked about 12) and one evening Mickey Duer and I drove to Sammy's for the express purpose of seeing if they'd sell us a beer. Waitress didn't bat an eye, came right back with two Schlitz. I think I may have gagged down half of mine with my sandwich. First beer (or half beer) I ever had. I remember wondering what other doors would open now that I had a learner's permit. If I only knew.

I misspelled it - it’s Sammies. The original building was mostly inside dining, a bar near the entrance with a small seating area at the front, bathrooms outside around back complete with condom vending. It also originally had drive in curb service at the front. When I was a kid I would pull in there with my parents and the car hops were all big, busty, beehive hairdo’s, heavy perfume and makeup And called everybody honey. They remodeled maybe 20 years ago? It closed for awhile then reopened a couple years ago. Not sure what’s going on there now. An icon from years gone by.
 

FrogAbroad

Full Member
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FrogAbroad

Full Member
During my senior year at TCU I worked as a DJ at KXOL-FM, at that time a C&W station, and crossed paths with Bill Mack on a few occasions. I remember him as a man with a voice twice as big as he was...I never knew him to be anything but a friendly country gentleman. I suspect FrogDJ has more than a story or two about him.

RIP, Bill.
 

Putt4Purple

Active Member
Sorry to say i was A little young and not allowed to stay awake very late. Occasionally on a weekend late night fishing trip with either my father or uncle I do remember him and the trucker blow horn. Good memories. Both my father and uncle have passed.
God Bless Bill Mack.
 

Frog DJ

Active Member
During my senior year at TCU I worked as a DJ at KXOL-FM, at that time a C&W station, and crossed paths with Bill Mack on a few occasions. I remember him as a man with a voice twice as big as he was...I never knew him to be anything but a friendly country gentleman. I suspect FrogDJ has more than a story or two about him.

RIP, Bill.
More than just a few! I worked my way through TCU by doing 7pm-12am Monday-Friday on WBAP-AM, so Bill and I usually had 15-20 minutes to chat before he relieved me on the air at midnight. One such night my last record was Red Skelton's spoken version of the Pledge of Allegiance.

As the music faded out I opened the mic and said, "Whoever told Red Skelton he was a singer is the same guy who told Ronald Reagan he was a politician." Bill roared with laughter so loud and long that I lost control and dissolved into uncontrollable giggles, and just played a commercial.

In 1970, when I was stationed at Fort Hood, Hal Chestnut paid me $10 an hour to work 18 hours a weekend (6am-3pm Sauturday/3pm-12am Sunday), so I was making $180 a week on the radio, while the Army paid me $90 a month. I was exhausted every Monday, but I was the richest PFC in Killeen.

One Sunday night Bill came striding into the control room to prepare for his show at midnight, and said, "Son, do you drive all the way back to Fort Hood in the middle of the night?" When I told him that I did he added, "And you make reveille on Monday morning?" I grinned and said, "Of course I do, Bill!"

He laughed that throaty, breathy laugh that was so infectious and said, "How much is Chestnut paying you to do that crazy turnaround?" When I told him $10 an hour he howled, "Hell! I'll pay you $10 an hour if you'll do my show on Saturday nights so I can MC out at Panther Hall. Whattya say?"

I was 21 and "bullet-proof," so I instantly said, "Sure! When do you want me to start?" He later admitted he thought I'd balk at working an additional 6 hours a weekend when I was already doing 18, but I had all the energy in the world back in those days, and after all, that was $240 a week!

So, the next weekend I began doing his show while he introduced whoever was appearing at Panther Hall that Saturday night. After the last performance he would always bring the stars over to the studios, and interview them live on the air, and they would always be totally trashed!

It made for absolutely hilarious radio, often laced with random four-letter words that I was just convinced would end my radio career forever (because from a legal standpoint, my signature was on the operating log). However, management never complained, and we never heard from the FCC.

I met nearly every major Country Music star in the industry during those 9 months before I got shipped overseas to work in Armed Forces Radio/TV. One weekend he brought in Buck Owens, and the conversation was so salty that I surreptitiously turned off their mics and played a song without their knowledge.

Neither one of them was wearing headphones, and I kept the studio monitors turned all the way down, so they just continued talking without realizing they were no longer on the air. When the song ended, they were still talking, but had backed off the obscenities a bit, so I just faded them back up.

They never knew the difference, but Hal Chestnut certainly did! He called me the next week and asked what had happened. I told him I was surprised he was was awake at that time of night to hear it, and he said, "I wasn't, but I've heard about it from several listeners. Let Bill say whatever he wants!"

When I expressed concern that the FCC would cite us and fine us for obscene language on the air he yelled, "Hell, the FCC isn't awake at 3:30 in the morning, either! Let Bill say whatever the hell he wants to say." As you might imagine, I never cut Bill Mack off again. What a wonderful friend and mentor.

Go Frogs!
 
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