This must be the place: ‘You can capture every instant, live your life like it’s a stage’
The Widespread Panic auction poster. Garret K. Woodward photo
It was nearing midnight last Saturday when I found myself in a circle of friends in the small, cozy sitting nook between the front door and the bar counter of The Scotsman in Waynesville.
Most were dear friends of mine that have been happily acquired throughout the 12 years of my existence living and working in Haywood County and greater Western North Carolina. The rest were new faces, now greatly enjoyed in conversation and friendship, through our combined efforts in putting together and seamlessly executing the recent “Rock for Relief: A WNC Flood Benefit Festival.”
It was just about a month ago when we first came together with an idea to put on a free daylong music festival around Waynesville and surrounding communities. Offer up this opportunity for folks to gather and immerse themselves in the soothing sounds of live music after so much sorrow and despair with the aftermath of Hurricane Helene occuring in our backyard.
Each of us involved in piecing the puzzle together and launching “Rock for Relief” was specialized in particular areas needed in pulling this huge event off. For myself, it was using my background in event production, media marketing and calling up an array of marquee artists up and inquiring about auction donations.
The others were incredibly talented in the nonprofit sector, audio engineering, stage management, graphic design, etc. A true murderer’s row of genuine human beings looking to help out where help is needed. And to also plan out this massive musical bash aimed at providing funds for local nonprofit Mountain Projects, as well as funds garnered for the “Rock for Relief Musicians Fund.”
Thus, beyond the countless hours and innumerable emails/texts between one another in tying up all the loose ends, we’d all meet up each Tuesday evening throughout the entire month of October, checking in on what’s been done and what’s left to do. Logistics planned out. Band lineups and venue schedules figured out.
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On my end of things, it was an onslaught of phone calls around the music industry to seek out and obtain particular items of interest for the silent and live auctions. Autographed posters from Widespread Panic, Red Clay Strays, Duane Betts, Trampled By Turtles, The Avett Brothers, The Nude Party, etc. Signed guitars from Goose, Red Clay Strays (again), Edwin McCain and Cody Jinks. And the brand new six-string acoustic from Teton Guitars.
It was overwhelming to be in the midst of such generosity, to once again feel justified in the reasons I’ve called the music industry home for the last 20 years of my life. Music not only brings us together, it’s also a powerful tool and unlimited resource for positive, tangible change in a modern world seemingly gone mad.
And so, Saturday, Nov. 2, finally arrived after being circled on the calendar like some holiday for us music freaks eagerly awaiting an entire day of live music — the jovial knowns of cherished acts, the intrinsic beauty of encountering an unknown band just when you needed their songs most — like some overzealous kid on running down the stairs to the tree on Christmas.
Bursting out of the gate at high noon, the final total of entities involved included over 60 artists at 16 venues. All onstage time and spaces allotted were donated in an effort to boost the cause. And much gratitude to the handful of volunteers who donated time to us. The whirlwind of sound took off like rocket early Saturday afternoon at Frog Level Brewing Company and didn’t stop charging ahead until early Sunday morning at the Water’n Hole Bar & Grille.
During the auction portion of the evening, I found myself standing in front of a large crowd, microphone in-hand at the Waynesville Inn & Golf Club and, one-by-one, going through the list of prized items to be bid on. As the auctioneer and stage emcee, it’s always a blast to hype folks up and get everyone within earshot in the spirit of the moment — the here and now of being present with each other in a fast-moving universe all too precious and fleeting.
To preface, as a lifelong minimalist, I don’t collect many things. All I care about for creature comforts is a big shelf full of my favorite books and a few stacks of the finest vinyl records on the planet. That’s about it, with the main thing I’ve actually collected being concert posters. I cultivated hundreds of posters from performances big and small in my travels across America and beyond.
Up until the flood last month, the collection was housed safely in a storage unit in Canton, not far up the hill from the Pigeon River. The hope was that maybe someday if my girlfriend, Sarah, and I ever bought a home, I could finally have a room of my own to display these beloved memories of pure melodic magic.
Sadly, when we went to check out our storage unit a few days after the floodwaters receded, our pile of possessions was reduced to a sludgy mess of sewage water and mud. Whatever was “salvageable” became a few posters ripped and covered in mud, but you could still make out the words and artwork of the events. It was better than nothing, I suppose, as I tossed the rest of’em in the dumpster.
So, when the “Rock for Relief” auction came up, I had my eye on one particular item, this incredibly mesmerizing poster from a Widespread Panic gig last year in Charleston, South Carolina (pictured). It was signed by the band, too, which just upped the cool factor. I placed my bid and crossed my fingers.
But, when the auction ended, I lost the bid to a nice gentleman from Asheville, one who I had the pleasure of chatting with by chance earlier that day. No matter, I was just happy the poster raised a nice chunk of money to help folks in need in our area. When he went to pay for the poster, I walked him over to the auction table for processing and so forth.
Standing at the table, his payment went through and I wished him well, but not before he turned to me and said, “Here, I want you to have this to start your collection again.” I was stunned by the gesture and immediately gave that kind soul a big bear hug of appreciation. “Your generosity and your kindness and your enthusiasm are inspiring,” he went on to say before departing.
Life is beautiful, grasp for it, y’all.
