The Time the Band Lynyrd Skynyrd Got the Best of Me

A disagreement about the Confederate flag left me red-faced and feeling foolish.

It happens all the time.

What is acceptable and politically correct can change and evolve quickly.

It can be hard to keep up.

Frustrations are felt from all sides of the issue.

The offended is outraged by the insensitivity of the words used by the offender. On the other side, the offender is equally outraged by the sensitivity of the offended over words that have long been used.

It often seems there is no working together when it reaches that point. Logos and symbols, whose meaning can often change overnight as well, can be as tricky as words.

Such was the case for me one afternoon at work in 1995.

What do stagehands do?

I worked as a stagehand for the local union in Wichita, Kansas. We worked for national touring acts.

As a stagehand, I would help unload all the equipment and lights from their trucks, set it all up, work the show and then load everything back in the trucks after the performance. This was often accomplished in one day.

The headliner on this particular day was Lynyrd Skynyrd.

The load-in for Lynyrd Skynyrd

We unloaded the many trucks and the band’s equipment filled the venue. I was assigned as a deckhand.

This meant that I would help build the stage and then work during the show on any equipment or set changes that may occur.

After getting the stage assembled, we started working on backdrops. We hung a very large black curtain. For the next task, they brought out a huge drop. It was probably 30 feet tall and fifty feet wide.

It was the Confederate flag.

I did what I was supposed to do. I helped put together the frame and the rollers for the flag. But I didn’t miss an opportunity to tell anybody in ear shot how disappointed I was in Lynyrd Skynyrd for using the divisive symbol.

While I worked, I complained to my fellow local stagehands, my lead, and the crew leaders who traveled with the band. It fell on deaf ears. They had obviously heard it all before.

The night of the show

That night, right before the show, they were giving out specific tasks to be done during the performance.

“Melzer,” the union steward yelled at me, “They want you working with them during the show on stage. They asked specifically for you.”

Cool, I remember thinking. It was always exciting to get to work directly on stage. I thought I must have impressed someone during my hard work that day.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

When I reported to the roadie for Lynyrd Skynyrd who would be my lead for the show, he said, “You drew the easy gig today. You only have one cue. When Sweet Home Alabama comes on, you need to pull this curtain shut. I will tell you when to go. It has to be done fast. Grab it and run in front of it, and pull hard. It is heavy. Don’t worry about being seen. It will be in a blackout, and nobody will see you.”

I sat back and enjoyed the concert and waited for my cue. My lead warned me it was getting close. I grabbed the edge of the curtain. The song started playing and he said, “Go!”.

I grabbed the curtain and ran across the stage as fast as I could. I had only one cue and I wasn’t going to mess this up.

As I ran across that stage, I realized that we were not in a blackout. The lights were as bright as they had been all night. I glanced behind me at the curtain I was pulling. It was, of course, the 30-foot-tall Confederate flag.

As I ran across the stage fully lit and exposed to the thousands of fans in the audience, I shook my head and had to admit to myself, Lynyrd Skynyrd had gotten the best of me.

When I finished my cue, I went back to my lead who sat on a box on the side of the stage, grinning as big as he could. I didn’t say anything. I just sat down beside him and swore I would never work their show again.

Never again means never again

Not that it made a difference to the band, but I was able to refuse the call the next time they came to town.

I might have lost the first round, but I was going to stick to my guns and not ever work Lynyrd Skynyrd again.

Years went by, and I had become a math teacher working in Wichita.

I didn’t have much time for stage work though I still did an occasional call.

The union steward called one afternoon and asked me if I would like to work spotlight for ZZ Top. I took the job, excited for the opportunity to work a band I had always loved.

That night, I climbed up to my spotlight basket and put on the headset to communicate with the lighting director.

“Spot 4 is here,” I said.

“Great,” the lighting director’s reply, “Any questions before we get started?”

“Yeah, who is the opening band?” I asked.

“Lynyrd Skynyrd” he replied.

I shook my head. Five years later and they still got the best of me.

For other stories from Curt about being a stagehand: