Enter your email address:

Delivered by FeedBurner

Blog powered by Typepad


March 31, 2011


Feed You can follow this conversation by subscribing to the comment feed for this post.

Interesting set Whitey used...could've been used on TV. Wonder if that set still exists? Best, M. ;->

And the little yellow sticker - on the underside of the toilet seat in the bathroom of an out-of-the-way tavern - read: "Whitey Coker is Everywhere!" And he was.

Duane "Whitey" Coker was among the most carefree people I have known. He was a joy to be around.

In that set of pictures I always groan when I see the ill-fitting fatigues they stuck him with for that assignment, especially with the photo set in contrast to the facing picture with the well-tailored suit. Always thought it made him look sort of dorky - even for 1968.

I have fond memories of my times with Whitey.

Perhaps this is a good place to share my Whitey Coker story from this era although it may be misinterpreted as racist by some. (It isn't.)

Whitey made numerous appearances at colleges and universities not only in Portland, but in all three of the Star Station markets. When he came to Omaha, we got together prior to his appearance in Lincoln, Nebraska at the University of Nebraska. A friend of mine loaned me his Elks Club Card so that we could go to the Elks Club in Lincoln after Whitey's appearance.

This was at a time when racial tensions were at a peak in Nebraska and we found ourselves at the black Elks Club rather than the one we intended to visit. Not wanting to offend anyone, Whitey made the decision to go inside and order a drinks. As we sat there, it was clear that our presence wasn't entirely appreciated by the half dozen or so men who gave us unpleasant glances from their position around a bar in the middle of the room. We were positioned completely across the room from the cigarette machine that was located way at the back of bar area. Whitey decided to go for a pack of cigarettes while I sat nervously with my back to his long trip across the floor. I could hear the echo of each footstep as he made his way to the cigarette machine. Suddenly, I heard Whitey's frantic footsteps racing back to our table. I could only imagine that he was being chased by folks who wished we weren't there.

---not the case. No one was chasing him as he slid up to our table with sweat beads on his forehead. As he reached our table, he whispered, "Roger, you want a pack of cigarettes?" I said, "No...what's the panic?" He replied, "It just occurred to me that you might shout across that room, 'Hey Whitey, get me a pack!"

I have read so many posts about the blogger lovers but this post is truly a pleasant piece of writing, keep it up.

The comments to this entry are closed.