It was a very gloomy vacation, and about the only thing I did for fun besides hanging out at Savvy's was go to Six Flags with Rhonda. There was no escaping the "Ricky" situation.  His new posse was making our home their new headquarters. Secret meetings were constantly in session. Every few days, Ricky would say something to me that would give the impression that I hadn't been ruled out as a member of the group, but hadn't been confirmed yet either. He provided the absolute minimal hope necessary to keep me quiet about the intrusion, and out of their way. By the end of what should have been a restful two weeks off, I could only secretly hold Ricky responsible for ruining my entire vacation. Tolbert and Joel were great guys, but seeing them come and go in my own home every day under the circumstances eventually became a near unbearable reminder that Ricky didn't feel Savvy was good enough for him.

Eating a bad corn dog at Six Flags Over Texas during our 
vacation in July 1983.

On the increasingly rare occasions that Ricky and I found ourselves alone in the house, we still had very normal, family-like moments, when the music business and egos were checked at the door. One of those times was towards the end of vacation when two girls showed up at our door one evening. We'd never seen either of them before, but they knew us from the club. They'd followed us home from Savvy's the previous night to find out where we lived, then returned the following night on a dare. We ended up inviting them in, and had a really laid back, unexpected chance to put the bad stuff aside for a while.

Rhonda had been sick lately. The band gave Hud a bachelor party, with the help from some friends. Attending were Jeff (from Waco), Marty, Dave, Ray, Charles Stewart, Wayne Addington, Dan, RJ, Ricky, Randy, Jim Wise, and myself. The following day,  Jerry Hudson and Brenda Hill got married. Channel 8 sportscaster Dale Hanson was the guest speaker at the reception. I showed up wearing a tux, but couldn't find a tie. Brenda's dad was a bit of a hard-ass, and he gruffly pulled me aside, dragged me upstairs, and made me put on one of his ties. He was doing his best to seem polite, but the whole time he was mumbling something under his breath about not ever seeing so many disrespectful people. Good times. 

The word was somehow starting to leak out about Ricky's plans to leave, but not because of me. A band called "Worlds" was playing at Savvy's and said some mean things about Ricky and Savvy in general. After only one set, some fans were giving them a hard time and the band threatened to quit. Rick Miller was acting as manager club manager during the vacation period and threatened to fire them if they didn't get back on stage and finish the night. It was a strange stand-off. What would be better? Quitting or getting fired? They ended up finishing the night. 

Kenny Stocks, a self-professed "jerk's jerk", got beaten up in the parking lot of Savvy's by two bigger jerk-mug-thugs who will remain nameless.  Kenny's face had looked like ground round when he came back into the club after the fight, but he was grinning ear to ear, proud that they hadn't killed him. A few days later, for reasons unknown to me, Kenny made Rich move out. 

Rhonda and I planned a last minute camping trip to the Brazos before vacation was over. It was just what I'd been needing for a long time; peace, quiet, no phones, no hassles. We fished, swam, and napped for two days in seclusion.  While I was laying out next to the Brazos, Ricky was back home coming up with a definite plan of action, and time line, for telling the other Savvy guys about his leaving the band. Rather than rounding everyone up and telling them at once, he opted to hold private meetings with various individuals, to make it more personal. 

Finally, on the last day of our vacation (July 19th), Ricky paid a visit to Rick Miller. He'd called ahead to say he was coming by, so he was expected at the home on Franwood Terrace. It still seemed a bit out of the ordinary for Ricky to just be stopping by like that. Rick assumed he was coming over to get a loan. After all, we'd been off for two weeks and we didn't get paychecks unless we were playing. Never in his wildest dreams would Rick have guessed that Ricky was coming over to personally give his 30 days notice. 

Upon arrival, the two men with similar names headed upstairs to Rick's home office. Ricky wasted no time and got right to the point. He started by telling Rick how proud he was of the accomplishments Savvy had made over the past three years, and thanked Rick for giving him the opportunity to play in Savvy. Then he got to the heart of the matter. Ricky said he'd known for some time that he was going to have to eventually go out on his own. He'd felt that he'd grown as much as he could with Savvy and the time had come for him to try something new. The band would have 30 days to find a replacement - and there were assurances that it was absolutely nothing personal regarding any person - or persons in the band. It was simply time to go. 

Rick took all this in, and while stunned, he kept his game face on. Once he realized it wasn't a gag, he just had one question for Ricky. "Now Ricky, are you absolutely sure this is what you want to do?" he asked.  Ricky confirmed that indeed it was. 

Then Ricky became chatty - most likely from nerves - and began making suggestions about how Savvy should continue to stay together after he left. While Rick looked Ricky in the eye and pretended to listen, he didn't hear a word that was being said. Instead, his mind was suddenly racing with a thousand thoughts of what needed to be done to get everything back in order. There were two clubs and a band to run. Savvy was a commodity, and it was speculation on their continued popularity that had been the deciding factor in investing in the Waco Savvy's club. Besides the Waco club, Rick had just bought a BMW and a house and....   Ricky was still talking.

Rick said something about needing to make some calls, but Ricky asked one last favor. He wanted to know if Rick would mind not saying anything to anyone until he had a chance to tell the rest of the band in person later that night. Rick agreed to keep it to himself for a day. They shook hands and Ricky left.  That night I went to Rick's and we talked about the situation at length. Finally I had someone I could confide in about all this. At long last I could tell Rick what I'd been going through for so long. He understood why I hadn't said anything, and was sympathetic about what I'd been through, but then we got down to the business of trying to decide what to do next. 

It was like going through the phases of dealing with a terminal illness. Rick's shock had given way to anger, which gave way to sadness, then confusion, and on and on. I'd gone through all of those phases and stages months ago. Ultimately, it would be Rick Miller's attitude that would carry the day. Rick's position, after going through all the various emotions, was that Savvy had been around long before Ricky Lynn Gregg came along, and would survive without him. His words were incredibly uplifting to me. It's exactly what I needed to hear. Savvy was Rick Miller's baby and it would require his blessing to keep going. Rick was understandably sad, as was I, to know that all the efforts and hard work we'd invested into trying to build something with the current lineup was now wasted. But this was the music business. What had initially started out as a gloomy meeting ended up being a pep rally for the future of Savvy. I was glad to finally have an ally, someone who knew the dark secret. But nobody really knew what would happen later that night after Ricky told the rest of the guys about his plans.

On  July 20th, 1983, three members of Savvy returned to work after two weeks off without a care in the world. The other three were harboring a secret. At the end of the night, Ricky waited until RJ was gone, and then he met up with Rich and Dan at the bar. The club was closed and the doors were locked, so Ricky ordered up a shot. A little something to deaden the sting of the blade. Then he told them he was quitting in a month. Rick was in the office counting the night's take. I was sitting on the dark stage, behind the keyboards, wondering what their expressions would be when he told them. Would there be surprise followed by supportive hugs? Or would Dan step back and put one hand on a hip and run the other through his long hair in disbelief? I figured that I would have Rich pegged. He didn't flinch when I accidentally thrust the neck of his brand new guitar into a ceiling fan. My guess was that Ricky's news would barely register on his face at all. I was right. With a cigarette clenched tightly in his teeth, his eyes squinting to keep the smoke from burning them, and a drink in one hand, he put the other one out to shake Ricky's hand to wish him good luck. Dan's eyes got big for a moment, and he looked around as if to see who else might have overheard, but then he stuck out his hand to wish Ricky well too.

Rich Mauch.

I'd seen enough. Being half-lit myself, from a night of doing too many shots to deaden my own pain, I went back into the dressing room and started to pack up my guitar, and gig clothes, to take them home. Suddenly the dressing room door swung open and it was Rick Miller, carrying a tray of Tequila shots. "Ain't nuthin' wrong!" he said, in his twangy, drawn out, best party voice. Close behind him were the rest of the guys, minus RJ who'd already left for the night. I put my things down and found a place to sit. It was going to be one of those nights.

Rick Miller sitting in Savvy's dressing room. The wall behind him
is mirrored, and Dan Kostura is seen in the reflection.

The drunken fellowship continued until 7:30 am. Luckily, Rick Miller had a key to the club and was able to close up whenever we decided to wrap it up. For over five hours that night, Ricky worked his magic and cast his spells on us until we were all chummy and buddy-buddy again. With only one more lifeline to Savvy remaining to be severed, Ricky could only hope that RJ would take the news half as good as everyone else did. 

CHAPTER 47:  Then the Claws Came Out!

SAVVY STORY INDEX

BACK TO JONESLAND

SEND EMAIL