by Gregg Allman
My mother used to be a heavy drinker, and if you ask her about it, she’ll say, “I drank till I didn’t wanna drink no more, then I stopped.” But she has the Serenity Prayer tacked right over her bed. The moment she saw me having trouble with alcohol, she just quit. A quart of Canadian Club a day and a pack of Chesterfields, and she just quit—not a shake, not a shimmy.
Whenever she and I get together, we have the best time. Even after all these years, the two of us, we’ve been through it all and then some. She’s so afraid that I’m gonna die before her. That would just crush her, to lose two sons and a husband. Since October 29, 1971, it’s just been me and her. I’m just gonna keep doing my best to stay strong for her and for the band.
As for the future of the Allman Brothers, one thing I know for sure is that we’ve got the Beacon Theatre for as long as we want it. In 2010, they bounced us out, but they gave us a big public apology about that. I wasn’t expecting that—just let us back in and we’ll be fine—but the best part is that now we got a deal with them where nothing can stop us coming every March, until further notice. It’s so good to have a thing like that, which keeps recurring every year. I never dreamed that I would be so fortunate as to have something like that happen to me in life. And the crowd keeps coming back, and that just amazes me. It’s a blessing, it really is.
I think I’m proudest of the way the Brothers hung in there during the hard times. We always did have staying power, as long as no crap started within the band. As long as we could hang together, we could deal with the slings and arrows from the outside, because we were impenetrable. We’ve always done our very best musically, we’ve never taken any shortcuts. We prove that where it matters the most—on the stage. The Allman Brothers have always given the people their money’s worth, every night. We do our best to send the fans home happy.
It’s an exceptional feeling to see all those young folks at the shows. When I was a kid, I didn’t listen to Tommy Dorsey. There was a generational line drawn when it came to music. Kids today love Jimi Hendrix and the Grateful Dead—all kinds of good music. They love the Allman Brothers. There’s that old saying, “Fun for ages six to sixty,” and by God, that’s what our audience is.
It’s strange, because it used to be, “Hey, man, could you sign this for my kid?” Now it’s, “Could you sign this for my mom? She named me after one of your tunes.” A lot of times, the whole family comes to a show. Sometimes it’s just a mom or dad, because one of them will feel like, “I can’t go to a concert anymore, that’s crazy—we’re not old hippies.” Well, once an old hippie, always an old hippie! And when they show up, they have a ball. It takes them back, and I love to see that.
We’ve had one hell of a run over the last few years, and we’re very blessed to have such excellent musicians, with really good hearts. Warren Haynes, Derek Trucks, Marc Quiñones, and Oteil Burbridge have meant the world to me, Butch, and Jaimoe. They’ve played a huge part in this band, and they’ve added some good comic relief over the years. Those guys have genuine love for the Allman Brothers, and they give it 100 percent. Derek gets better every year, Oteil gets better every year, and Warren, of course, gets better every year.
It means so much to still be standing up onstage with those two warriors on the drums, Butch and Jaimoe. They both have so much pride in the Allman Brothers Band, and so do I. And why not? Over the years, what we’ve accomplished has finally sunk in. When we started out, we were a great cover band, but I didn’t see any longevity in it. So I never expected anything like this, not in my wildest dreams. It is a sensational feeling—like “Man, we did all that?” Sometimes I just revel at the accomplishments of the six of us and what it’s led into. I’m so thankful that we could bring happiness into so many hearts.
Now we even have a museum of the Brothers’ history set up at the Big House in Macon, which I think is wonderful. One of our longtime tour personnel came up with the idea of turning the house into a museum. All the guys in the band got behind it, and we reached out to some of our friends and fans and asked them to help fund it, because it takes a lot of money to keep that thing up—to keep it clean, keep all the photos. We had to put an air system in there so that things wouldn’t wrinkle up. You don’t want the stuff to look shopworn and all yellowed out. Of course, you need a good sound system, all that stuff. And I’ll be damned if it didn’t work. The museum makes me real, real proud, and I try to get down there as much as I can.
I want to make sure to thank the doctors and nurses at the Mayo Clinic for all the great care they gave me, and let everyone know how much I appreciate the gift of life I received from my donor. Because of that unselfish act, I was able to return to my music.
For now, I’m taking it real easy, because they said, “If you go back out on the road like you did after your transplant, you’re gonna have problems.” But a player has got to play. I’m gonna try my damnedest to go as light as I can, but if traveling and making music is what takes me, I can’t think of a better way to go.
Music is my life’s blood. I love music, I love to play good music, and I love to play music for people who appreciate it. And when it’s all said and done, I’ll go to my grave and my brother will greet me, saying, “Nice work, little brother—you did all right.”
I must have said this a million times, but if I died today, I have had me a blast. I really mean that—if I fell over dead right now, I have led some kind of life. I wouldn’t trade it for nobody’s, but I don’t know if I’d do it again. If somebody offered me a second round, I think I’d have to pass on it.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks to my children, Devon, Elijah Blue, Island, Layla, and Michael; my niece, Galadrielle; and everyone else who makes my life so full.
To my dear friends, Chank Middleton and Floyd Miles, who have been with me since the beginning. I love you guys.
Thanks to all of the Allman Brothers Band members for making music with me over the last forty-three years, and to the Allman Brothers management, production, and road crews for helping to keep it together. To the Gregg Allman Band and crew for continuing to play killer music night after night.
To EJ Devokaitis for his invaluable efforts in pulling together all of the photos as well as for taking good care of the Big House Museum.
I need to thank Lisa Sharkey for her enthusiasm about this book, and my editor, Matt Harper, for all his hard work. Also my thanks to Liate Stehlik, Lynn Grady, Sharyn Rosenblum, Tavia Kowalchuk, Shawn Nicholls, Ana Maria Allessi, Marisa Benedetto, and all the HarperCollins/William Morrow team. And to Frank Weimann and Jeff Silberman at the Literary Group.
To the fans around the world who have loved me and my music and have always been there. You guys are the best.
Finally, I must thank my manager, Michael Lehman, for making me feel that there’s a lot more successes coming down the road, and for believing that I had a story worth telling and turning that belief into this book. Thanks, bro.
PHOTO SECTION
My newly married parents in the mid-1940s.
Allman Family Archives
Two happy brothers.
Allman Family Archives
The clothes make the man.
Courtesy Brenda Allman, Allman Family Archives
Easter Sunday with our first bicycles.
Courtesy Brenda Allman, Allman Family Archives
Me and Duane at Castle Heights Military Academy, June 1957.
Allman Family Archives
A couple of “big shots” at Castle Heights.
Courtesy Brenda Allman, Allman Family Archives
My brother always knew how to raise some hell for his little brother. He even tried to hang me once, though thankfully it wasn’t from this tree.
Allman Family Archives
Cadet Gregory L. Allman.
Allman Family Archives
Playing the Seabreeze High School graduation party at Oceanside Country Club, 1965.
Courtesy Ann Williams Bacon & Matthew D. Godwin
The Escor
ts opening for the Beach Boys in Daytona Beach, 1965.
Courtesy Lee Hazen & Joe Bell
All dressed up for an Allman Joys gig, March 1966.
Allman Family Archives
The Allman Joys eventually morphed into the Hour Glass, and here we are in the studio.
ABB Archives
It was tough for the Hour Glass. We spent a lot of time going through the motions.
ABB Archives
Forging the Brotherhood at Rose Hill Cemetery in Macon, 1969. Bottom row, left to right: Butch, Dickey, Berry, Jaimoe; top row: Duane and me.
© Stephen Paley
The first-ever Allman Brothers Band studio session with Phil Walden looking on, in Macon, 1969.
Baron Wolman
Early morning blues when Dickey was out of commission in Boston, 1969.
Albert J. Sullivan
Loading the dreaded Econoline van with Red Dog and Kim Payne, 1969.
W. Robert Johnson
Our first road manager, Twiggs Lyndon, was constantly taking photos—especially in the early days. Here I am staring down his lens.
Twiggs Lyndon
Passing the time with a game of cork ball in Macon, 1969.
ABB Archives
My other mama: Louise Hudson, proprietor of H&H Restaurant in Macon.
Twiggs Lyndon
With Duane at Rose Hill.
Twiggs Lyndon
A “Winbag” pit stop provides another stage for our roadie, the legendary Red Dog.
Twiggs Lyndon
A quiet moment with my brother in North Florida, October 1970.
© Stephen Paley
My Alabama mug shot.
The one and only Twiggs Miller Lyndon Jr.
www.SidneySmithPhotos.com
The other half of the Brotherhood: our original road crew with photographer Jim Marshall. From left to right, seated: Joseph “Red Dog” Campbell, Kim Payne, Joe Dan Petty; standing: Mike Callahan, Willie Perkins, and Jim Marshall.
© Jim Marshall Photography LLC
At the top of our game: recording At Fillmore East, March 1971.
© Jim Marshall Photography LLC
Hittin’ the note at the Fillmore.
© Jim Marshall Photography LLC
Brother to brother.
© Bob Gruen/www.bobgruen.com
Playing to the masses at Boston Common, summer 1971.
Peter Tarnoff/Retna
In the backseat with my brother in California, October 1971.
Annie Leibovitz/Press Images
Soldiering on with the five-man band, 1972.
Twiggs Lyndon
Behind the Hammond B3 at the Warehouse in New Orleans, 1972.
www.SidneySmithPhotos.com
The five-man band outside our first tour bus, 1972.
©Bob Gruen/www.bobgruen.com
The Allman Brothers Band with Chuck and Lamar onstage at the Grand Opera House in Macon, October 1973.
Herb Kossover
Relaxing at the farm in Juliette, Georgia, 1973.
www.SidneySmithPhotos.com
Sitting on the back of “The Blackhearted Woman” equipment truck at the farm in Juliette, 1973.
Herb Kossover
Headlining in front of six hundred thousand people at Watkins Glen, July 1973. At that time it was the biggest outdoor concert ever.
Herb Kossover
Onstage with Dickey, early 1970s.
www.SidneySmithPhotos.com
Backstage in New Orleans with my brother’s SG.
www.SidneySmithPhotos.com
Another town, another show…
www.SidneySmithPhotos.com
Stringing up my acoustic guitar, 1973.
www.SidneySmithPhotos.com
A preshow chat with Butchie.
www.SidneySmithPhotos.com
After my brother died, I started playing electric guitar onstage.
Jeffrey Mayer/JTMPhotos, Int’l
Talking over an arrangement with Butch, Chuck, and Dickey.
© 1996 Gilbert Lee, [email protected]
Riding high with my dear friend Chank Middleton, mid-1970s.
Courtesy Chank Middleton and Mama Louise Hudson
In the studio with Phil Walden, president of Capricorn Records.
Herb Kossover
Some Eat a Peach artwork on my Leslie, summer 1974.
Steve Morley/Redferns Collection/Getty Images
Preshow ritual, mid-1970s.
www.SidneySmithPhotos.com
The entire band with Governor Jimmy Carter at our Providence, Rhode Island, benefit show that helped keep his campaign alive, November 1975.
Herb Kossover
Dickey showing me his custom-made guitar.
www.SidneySmithPhotos.com
Working on some chops with my Strat.
www.SidneySmithPhotos.com
Hangin’ around with Cher in Beverly Hills.
Michael Ochs Archives/Stringer/Getty Images
My musical brother Jaimoe is a unique drummer and a wonderful human being.
www.SidneySmithPhotos.com
Bill Graham at the annual Capricorn Records picnic in Macon.
www.SidneySmithPhotos.com
With our longtime booking agent, Jonny Podell.
© Bob Gruen/www.bobgruen.com
Going nowhere fast with Cher.
Herb Kossover
The reunited Allman Brothers Band, 1980.
Kirk West/Big House Museum Archives
At the B3 with the re-formed band.
Kirk West/Big House Museum Archives
Bill Graham shares my B3 bench at the Crackdown benefit in New York City, 1986.
Kirk West/Big House Museum Archives
The Gregg Allman Band, 1987.
Brian Hagiwara
Floyd Miles, who I’m forever indebted to for bringing me and Duane across the tracks and introducing us to the blues.
Kirk West/ABB Archives
With Allen Woody, one of the funniest people I’ve ever known.
Alan Schwartz
At the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremony with Dickey; Jaimoe; Butch; my niece, Galadrielle; and Berry Oakley’s children, Berry and Brittany.
Toni Brown
Words of wisdom from my mentor and longtime producer, Tommy Dowd.
Kirk West/ABB Archives
The three-headed rhythm monster (from left to right): Marc Quiñones, Jaimoe, and Butch.
Danny Clinch
Dickey and I harmonize on “Midnight Rider,” 1995.
© Jay Blakesberg
The young’uns: guitarist Derek Trucks and bassist Oteil Burbridge at the Beacon Theatre.
Danny Clinch
With Derek at our return to Piedmont Park in 2007. Pretty cool that he’s wearing a shirt with my brother on it from Piedmont Park in 1969.
Kirk West/ABB Archives
This is what eighty thousand people look like from the stage—Bonnaroo Music Festival in Tennessee, 2005.
Michael Weintrob 2012
To honor my brother, Eric Clapton sat in with the Allman Brothers during our fortieth anniversary celebration at the Beacon Theatre.
© Derek McCabe
Having a laugh with Warren Haynes, a man I truly enjoy writing songs with.
© Dino Perrucci
With my solo band, supporting the Low Country Blues album.
© Joshua Timmermans/Noble Visions
Accepting the Lifetime Achievement Grammy for the Allman Brothers Band, February 2012.
WireImage/Rick Diamond/Getty Images
With Chank and my manager, Michael Lehman, at the Big House Museum, 2011.
David Plakke Media, NYC
Standing in front of the Big House Museum, a place that I’m truly proud of.
David Plakke Media, NYC
INDEX
The pagination of this electronic edition does not match the edition from which it was created. To locate a specific passage, please use your e-book reader’s search tools.
Note: Page numbers in italics refer to photos.
“Ain’t Wastin’ Time No More,” 204, 209
Alaimo, Steve, 100–101
Alexander, Michael, 76, 106
Allman, Alfred (grandfather), 11, 25–27
Allman, David (uncle), 11, 15–16, 25, 26
Allman, Delilah Island (daughter), 284, 324–25, 359
Allman, Devon Lane (son), 229, 360
Allman, Donna (Duane’s wife), 148
Allman, [Howard] Duane (brother), 28, 194, 242, 287, 378
and Allman Brothers Band, see Allman Brothers Band
and Allman Joys, 53, 54, 61–77
birth and childhood, 9, 14, 22–24
death of, 195–201, 203–4, 207, 228, 275, 332
and the draft, 55–56
and drugs, 161–63, 171–72, 175, 188–93, 199
and Hour Glass, 78, 82–99
in L.A., 78, 79–84
in military school, 16–19, 36