#96 - Corey got along well enough in school and got along well with most of the kids. There were a few that would give him a hard time about his dad being a “Jailbird.”
Corey Storey remembered the day his dad was arrested. He was ten at the time.
As he was leaving for work, his dad said, “Keep working on those chords I showed you. You’ll get ‘em.”
Corey was picking up on his dad’s fondness for Rockabilly music. He “Liked the beat. You could dance to it!”
He liked his dad’s guitar and Dan was showing him how to play it.
Dan Storey had his hand in a few things trying to make ends meet for his young family.
Today, he was bootlegging. He ran one or two trips across the state line a week. Depended on the demand.
He ran one leg of a relay moving the moonshine up north. Though well past the days of Prohibition, beating the Feds, by selling tax-free liquor, was considered a sport as well as being a money maker.
These days there was minimal risk of getting caught. And not like the old days racing a jacked-up car up and down dirt roads through piney woods under the cover of night.
Just drive and mix in with the highway traffic. It was easy.
Dan got caught. In an unexpected traffic stop. Across the state line.
That’s how Dan came to serve four years of a seven-year sentence in prison. Four hundred miles away.
Angel and Corey and his younger sister, Angelina, saw him face to face only four times in that time.
Travel and communications were different then. There were letters back and forth.
Angel had almost decided to move back home to her family, something she would have hated to do. Her family had less faith in Dan than she did.
It was she who took the brunt of it. She had to go to work.
She got a job sewing at a jeans factory. She was lucky. It was nearby. Just one transfer by bus and a walk.
Corey was old enough to help with his sister. They attended the same school; Angelina was in the first grade, Corey the sixth. He could get her to and from school.
Angel got up, made lunch for Corey and Angelina, and headed off to work by 5 am.
Corey made breakfast for him and “Angie” when they got up, then walked to school. They were home after 3. Angel followed at about 4, early enough to spend time with the kids and cook dinner.
An added challenge was the dog. Dan had just got it for Angelina. Cutest little thing, but young enough to need watching.
She named her Manna. “Because she’s from Heaven,” she said. Angelina wouldn’t consider letting her go.
Their neighbor, Mrs. Delaney, kept an eye out for the kids and walked Manna while Corey and Angelina were at school. She really helped them out.
Angel hoped to retrieve Dan’s truck soon. It had been impounded along with the contraband.
She didn’t waver in her love for Dan. She believed he would find his place in the work world. He was a kind, but spirited, prone to wanting the “two in the bush.” Industrious, but a dreamer.
Angel was pretty. It wasn’t long before guys wanted her to go out. They called or came by the house.
It bothered Corey. “I don’t like those guys coming around!” he said.
She said, “Don’t worry, they will stop. They’ll see I’m not interested.” She smiled at him.
Every day Corey practiced on his dad’s guitar. He wanted to take lessons, but it cost too much.
After his mother came home, he’d run off to find his friends, often in the music store, the local hangout.
“Don’t be home too late,” Angel would call out, which for Corey meant not too much after dark.
By the time he was a teenager, Corey was stretching the boundary of just how much he could get away with. Staying out later and later.
He hung out at the local club helping with the band’s gear and set-up until they would have to run him off when the club opened. He was too young.
Mrs. Delaney told Angel she heard Corey was friends with some local toughs.
“As if those beatniks and musicians weren’t enough,” she said.
He told her, “They’re alright, Mom. It’s no big deal.”
Angel was losing control of Corey little by little.
Dan would be home in a year the way it looked.
Angel’s hope was that both Dan and Corey would keep each other out of trouble. And that Angelina would get back the sparkle in her eyes. Angel just wanted him home.
The good thing to come out of Dan’s incarceration was that he got time off his sentence, and a small wage, if he would learn a trade at the prison shop. He took advantage of it. Learned plumbing, welding, electrical.
He could get a steady job when he got home. Around here, no one would hold his jail time against him.
Corey got along well enough in school and got along well with most of the kids.
There were a few that would give him a hard time about his dad being a “Jailbird.” On occasion, mild scuffles led to fisticuffs and black eyes.
And then, Corey saw girls in a different light, and they fanned the flames.
He was getting good on guitar. He jammed with friends. They had electric guitars. He wanted one as well. Corey wanted a band.
He got a paper route and mowed lawns to save up for a guitar. And an amp.
He showed his mom a picture of the guitar he would get.
He loved Rockabilly but also put together beautiful melodies “just noodling around,” as he would say. Angel heard music in him and encouraged his playing saying, “You’ll bring a smile to your dad’s face.”
Hanging out one evening at The Blue Dog, he got to talking to one of the guitar players playing that night.
Corey told him about the guitar he played.
“It’s a 1946 Gibson? You remember the model number? It doesn’t matter,” the guy said.
He said he would trade his other electric for Corey’s acoustic.
“Here! Look at this.” He showed Corey the guitar he would trade.
Corey was sorely tempted. He would have an electric guitar and could use the money he had saved for an amp and be all set.
“Go get it, we can do it now!” The guy urged.
He headed home for the guitar.
But something about that guitar guy gave him caution.
He knew he wouldn’t do it. It was his dad’s guitar.
Corey got home and was in his room playing along to a record. Angel and Angelina were at the grocery store.
Taking the doorbell chime to be his mom home from shopping, he headed out to help bring the groceries in.
A man stood at the door.
“Daddy’s home.” came the familiar voice.
Corey was in shock throughout their embrace.
Dad said, “I have something for you.” He reached back outside the door and retrieved a guitar case.
“Open it up. It’s yours!”
Corey fumbled his way through the latches and opened the case to reveal a Gretsch “White Falcon” electric guitar.
The one he wanted.
Thank you for reading Before I Forget . . !
Please leave a Comment. I much appreciate it.
For my newer Subscribers - an earlier post from Oct 27, 2023 -
How we got on old Highway 90, I don’t remember. It must have seemed a good idea at the time. There had been recreational drugs and adult beverages involved.
The best part of this story for me is that a father encourages his son to do what he wants to do. Young people should go after their dreams. If they change their mind later, or it doesn't work out, that's okay. There's other dreams. Anyway, I really liked that part.
The best part of this story for me is that a father encourages his son to do what he wants to do. Young people should go after their dreams. If they change their mind later, or it doesn't work out, that's okay. There's other dreams. Anyway, I really liked that part.
Lucky boy! That's an unusual guitar. I'd sure like chapter two of this story. See what Corey achieved. Cool, James Ron!