The Bluegrass Tavern Chronicles(page-7)

 

                                                                Donnie Cross

                                                                  Chapter 2

      I've had the pleasure to have known this great man for most of my life, I met Donnie and his brother Jimmy Cross when I was 16 at the Blue Knob Night Club, where my dad introduced me and my brother Kevin to them, and soon after, my brother and I acquired the job immediately cleaning up the Blue Knob and the poker room in the rear. 

       Donnie worked at G.E. and when it was time to play, we all flocked to Joe’s for a great time, it was the newest place in town right off the Bluegrass Parkway, where everyone came out to indulge in pool shooting, foosball playing, or just having great conversations with various eclectic individuals for whom I had the greatest gratification of knowing, and every soul who walked through Joe’s doors, I called a dear friend, and the coldest beer in the town helped too. 

         Don Juan(the moniker we used to name Donnie), was a breathing giant teddy bear who loved beer or wine, women, and song, and who had an infectious laugh that could calm a lair of lions, and if any person who stepped out of line Donnie was there to settle down any rambunctious drunk who over marginalized an inconvenience, one incidence I recalled, I was still in high school and Donnie had a hot tip at Keeneland, so, he asked me to ride to G.E. and pick him up around noon the following morning, I said, “sure,” and I drove my 1975 Grand Prix(this baby could outrun any new Trans AM too, and did), I was tresspassing, and never saw the inside of G.E. but Donnie gave the Security guards all a heads up as I walked right on in, Donnie was finishing up his piece work, throwing together screws on various parts of a washer, he moved like a robot, and I watched him finished up in a flash, his buddies clocked him out later that day. What was so incredible was that Donnie was finishing up a line for someone who wasn't there at the time, he finished his line hours before. We had an hour and a half drive to Lexington, while I was driving Donnie was reading the racing form, and we pulled into Keeneland and it was packed, we had to park a mile away it seemed, we got out and the walk did stretch out our 2-hour cramped legs, but some stupid jerk cut in front of me in a car, damn near hit me too, I was so quick and jumped out of the way avoiding death, this guy was flying, and Donnie was walking about ten feet behind me, and Donnie walked over to the now stalled car that was impeded by traffic and said a few words to the driver, and then the driver popped off to Donnie, and this pissed Donnie off and he reach over into the car window and snatched that big man out of his car seat, and it was over right there, the guy started apologizing right and left, Donnie was quick and strong, and this was justified, even the security guard at Keeneland saw this and agreed. Donnie was a great man and friend. I miss my dearest brother so much. 

The Bluegrass Tavern Chronicles(page-6)

 

     Feather was throwing effective punches, really hurting Joe, never saw anyone ever get this many hits on Joe, and I thought, is this going to be Joe's first loss and defeat? They grappled with each other for 40 minutes as I looked at the old Budweiser clock on the wall, both gagging and gasping for air but no one dared to intervene, then Joe did a Mike Tyson out of nowhere, he bit a huge chunk off Feather’s ear, and Feather wailed out and started to bleed all over the dance floor, then Feather quit fighting and the fight broke up, which was called a draw even though before the cannibalism of the ear Feather was winning but no one took any score. 

     Feather walked into the bar the following week with a bandaid over his ear and drank a mug of beer like nothing ever happened, then Joe walked in, later on, smiled at everyone, and started to fry someone a Joe burger. This was the norm of this place, when you had a disagreement or a squabble with someone you picked up your pieces and moved on-bygones. No harsh or hard feelings toward anyone most of the time after any bar fight, just good ole boys having fun, rarely did any fight ever turn into a Hatfield and McCoy feud, you buried that hatchet deep into that scrabble and rumble and then forgot about it, way of the bar code, no one ever disliked anyone to the point that he wanted to kill another human being, beer flowed for reconciliation and error, you just moved on and nursed your loss or win with atonement. The Joe Code was the best, live and let’s drink. 

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The Bluegrass Tavern Chronicles(page-4)

 

     One morning cleaning up behind the bar there was a loaded sawed-off double-barrel shotgun propped up beside the cooler underneath the bar. I had to move it to sweep the debris and cigarette butts up. I picked up the gun and bam, the gun went off in a deafening sound, my ears were ringing while my hearing went mute, I was shaking, terrified, and wondering how did this gun go off. The gun blast blew a hole in Joe’s portable mug cooler and shards of mugs were everywhere. I was shell-shocked by the incident, the pounding of ringing in my ears wouldn't stop, I ran outside to get some fresh air and let the bluish cloud of smoke clear out, I checked myself to see if I was hurt but seemed okay only rattled from this careless act. I hurried up my cleaning, I didn't want Joe to see this because I feared he would fire me on the spot, and I couldn't blame him whatsoever.

     I daydreamed the whole day at school, wracked with worry, what should I tell Joe? I never went by that night at Joe’s and went straight home, the next morning I headed to Joe’s frightened out of mind, but knew no one would be there, so, I cleaned up and noticed the huge hole in the mug cooler, now placed with a white bar towel in it. I traveled back to school and my head filled with guilt, I must tell Joe I thought. That night I found the courage to tell Joe, told him I picked the gun up to clean up the cigarette butts and it went off, Joe was so worried about me, he didn't care, he was so glad I was okay, and said it was his fault for leaving it there, and told me not to worry about anything. Joe was a great and understanding man, why I miss him.

     Now, the last tale of Joe, I regret retelling, it was very hard to write because I loved both of these men, sadly, both are gone from this life way too soon, cancer got Joe and suicide overwhelmed Feather, two men who were better than this but life isn't always by the book.

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