A lighthearted and loving look back at the glory days of the Shady Dell, the historic haven for teenagers in York, PA, and the magnanimous couple that created it, John & Helen Ettline.
CLOSE YOUR EYES. TAKE A DEEP BREATH. OPEN YOUR HEART.
SHADY DEL KNIGHT, ADMINISTRATOR
High School Yearbook Photo
"More than a place, the Shady Dell was and will forever remain a state of mind." Shady Del Knight
HELLO STRANGER ..... IT SEEMS LIKE A MIGHTY LONG TIME!
In today's edition of College Years the timeline advances to the Christmas/New Year holiday break at the end of 1967.
I couldn't wait for classes to end so that I could bust loose, drive back to York, get up the hill to the Dell, check in with Helen and John, and check out the jukebox records in the barn.
Listen now to the hottest songs that were playing at the Shady Dell during the holidays in 1967 and on into the new year.
December 1967
"My Baby Must Be a Magician" – Marvelettes
"I Can’t Stand Myself (When You Touch Me)" – James Brown
"Chain of Fools" – Aretha Franklin
"A Love That’s Real" – Intruders
"Judy in Disguise" – John Fred & His Playboy Band
January 1968
"We’re a Winner" – Impressions
"I Wish it Would Rain" – Temptations
"I Truly, Truly Believe" – Temptations
We'll flash back to the greatest Dell hits of February 1968 in the next edition of College Years. I hope you'll be here!
Have a Shady day and a safe and happy new year celebration!
Big John ambled into the barn carrying a seventy pound log. He crouched before the fireplace and with a mighty heave threw the massive chunk of lumber onto the glowing bed of embers.
Infused with fresh fuel the blaze quickly sprang to life. Light danced merrily on the wall as flames devoured the wood.
The TV room was bathed in a cheery glow as soothing heat radiated to Dell rats gathered 'round. Comforting crackles, pops and hisses from the fire blended with the sound of familiar tunes playing on the jukebox.
'Twas the most wonderful time of the year - Christmas time at the Shady Dell!
Some of my fondest memories of the Dell originated during the colder months and the holiday season. John always sprang into prompt action during a snow storm. Equipped with a winter busting arsenal that included jumper cables, chains, sand, and ice scraper, Mr. Ettline was Johnny on the spot whenever a Dell rat encountered car problems.
Armed with his trusty shovel John wasted no time clearing the front steps and the walkway connecting the house to the barn.
On cold December nights Helen was busy preparing treats to warm the tummy. My favorite cold weather order was a plate of sizzling French fries and a steaming mug of cocoa.
Next stop - the barn, and John had it handled down there, too, with the fireplace burning and records that kept turning.
During the holiday season no place made you feel more welcome, more at home than the Shady Dell!
In keeping with tradition I'm open for business throughout the holidays and I loaded the Dell's two holiday song classics into the jukebox.
"Jingle Bell Rock"/"Captain Santa Claus" by Bobby Helms (December 1957)
For your viewing pleasure I decked the halls and covered the walls with vintage seasonal soda pop ads.
This 45rpm record is one of the many two-siders to enjoy popularity at the Shady Dell. Both sides were enduring seasonal favorites.
"Jingle Bell Rock" first became a nationwide hit at Christmas time in 1957.
Every December thereafter the song would magically show up on the Dell’s dance hall jukebox just in time to help engender a festive holiday mood.
You might think that the Dell's inner circle would have avoided this old countrified Christmas classic, dismissing it as square. Instead, the gang eagerly got into the spirit of the proceedings and made it their own.
The record’s B-side, a nursery school ditty entitled "Captain Santa Claus," produced an extraordinary response at the Dell. The beginning of the song consists of a series of bizarre and instantly recognizable sound effects. Naming that tune in seconds flat, the crowd would erupt in gleeful, childlike laughter.
Jubilant rats would leap to their feet... head out on the dance floor... and skip around the room hand-in-hand like merry little elves.
At the Dell, even the coolest kids were capable of letting their hair down on occasion and acting silly, particularly during Christmas break when Bobby Helms was serenading us.
The popularity of Bobby Helms' perennial holiday classics allows me to once again make an important point.
Dell rats of the 60s seemed to welcome the opportunity to embrace the music of the past and preserve the traditions of their 50s predecessors.
Oh what a night Late December back in '65 I was happy just to be alive As I remember what a night.
Remember the 1958 Poni-tails song "Born Too Late"? Sometimes I feel like I was. For decades I regarded the mid to late 60s as my prime time but lately I find myself feeling happier and more comfortable when I listen to music released in 1963 and earlier. Please join me in remembering some of the great December songs of the 50s and early 60s. For your enjoyment I brought along some vintage seasonal soda pop ads.
"Dim, Dim the Lights (I Want Some Atmosphere)" - Bill Haley & the Comets (December 1954)
"Teen-Age Prayer" - Gloria Mann (December 1955)
"Don't Forbid Me" - Pat Boone (December 1956)
"Be Bop Baby" - Ricky Nelson (December 1957)
"Lonely Teardrops" - Jackie Wilson (December 1958)
"The Big Hurt" - Miss Toni Fisher (December 1959)
"Poetry in Motion" - Johnny Tillotson (December 1960)
"Poor Fool" - Ike & Tina Turner (December 1961)
"All Alone Am I" - Brenda Lee (December 1962)
"Drip Drop" - Dion (December 1963)
More holiday memories are coming up in my next post, so please be here!
It's time once again to shine the spotlight on two more volumes of the Cruisin' series, the simulated Top 40 radio broadcasts of the 50s and 60s released on albums in the early 70s.
As I have done before I will name my Pick to Click from each of the albums and include as a bonus track another of my favorite songs released the same year.
To help set the mood I hung a few more vintage soda pop ads on the wall.
Hop in and we'll cruise out to the left coast, turn around, and go shufflin' off to Buffalo. First, let's hit the Sunset Strip and go Huntin' with Hunter!
Hunter Hancock - KGFJ, Los Angeles
"There is Something on Your Mind" - Big Jay McNeeley (vocal by Little Sonny Warner)
Garnet Mimms recorded an excellent rendition of "There is Something on Your Mind." Dave Bupp and the Del-Chords performed the song at the White Oaks Reunion last fall.
The definitive version of the song is the one that deejay Hunter Hancock introduced on Cruisin' 1959. Tenor sax show stopper Big Jay McNeely and his band teamed up with satin smooth vocalist Little Sonny Warner to make this slow blues ballad my favorite track on that Cruisin' album and one of the greatest records on the charts during the summer of 1959.
"Kookie, Kookie (Lend Me Your Comb)" - Edward Byrnes & Connie Stevens (June 1959)
He played "Kookie" Kookson the 3rd, the street wise, hair combing, jive talking hipster on the hit TV detective series 77 Sunset Strip.
She portrayed Cricket Blake, the perky photographer, lounge singer, and part time sleuth on the hit TV detective series Hawaiian Eye. Cricket Blake was most likely the inspiration for Cricket Blair, the blonde tressed model turned lawyer on Y&R.
Together, Kookie and Cricket made sweet music, if you want to call it that. "Kookie, Kookie (Lend Me Your Comb)," a novelty single performed by Edd Byrnes and Connie Stevens, was released at a time when the buzzworthy young stars were seeing a meteoric rise in the value of their stock. Byrnes was already riding high as the breakout scene stealer on 77 Sunset Strip and Connie was in production on Hawaiian Eye, a series that would send her popularity skyrocketing in the months and years that followed.
Connie Stevens and Edd "Kookie" Byrnes were hip and trendy and so was their record. Radio stations played it and fans bought it. While serious artists bristled, "Lend Me Your Comb" shot into the top 5 on the national pop singles chart. Like, lay it on me!
Rad, dad! Now let's blow the La-La scene and kick our jets east...like Buffalo, baby!
Dick Biondi - WKBW, Buffalo
"Fannie Mae" - Buster Brown (March 1960)
The wailing blues harmonica intro allows oldies lovers to name that tune ("Fannie Mae") in seconds flat. It was always exciting to hear Dick Biondi, the self-described Wild I-tralian of Buffalo, seamlessly inject the name Buster Brown at the perfect moment right before the melody began.
Buster Brown's "Fannie Mae" is my Pick to Click on Biondi's 1960 volume of the Cruisin' series. The blues rocker became Buster's biggest chart hit, breaking into the Billboard top 40 in the spring of 1960.
"The Under Assistant West Coast Promotion Man" - the Rolling Stones
I'm breaking my own rules by jumping ahead to 1965, but this is the perfect time to roll out one of my favorite killer bees, the one found on the flip side of the Rolling Stones' Jaggernaut "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction."
Listen to the familiar riffs in "The Under Assistant West Coast Promotion Man," a song the Stones based on Buster Brown's "Fannie Mae." The song was written as a good natured poke in the ribs aimed at the Stones' own London Records promo man who accompanied Mick and his mates on their first American tour.
"Lucille" - Everly Brothers (October 1960)
As I mentioned in an earlier Cruisin' post, "Wake Up Little Susie" by the Everly Brothers was one of my favorite songs as a boy.
Eventually, I started drifting away from the Everlys and their mellow, laid back rockabilly style, favoring music that packed more of a punch.
Then came the moment in the late 60s when I had an epiphany and realized that the Everly Brothers had their own unique brand of old school cool. It was the moment that I first heard their version of Little Richard Penniman's shouting 1957 hit "Lucille."
The Everly Brothers put their rendition of "Lucille" on the Billboard pop singles chart during the fall of 1960 and it stopped just shy of the top 20 mark. Here are Phil and Don Everly performing their excellent cover of "Lucille" on the Tennessee Ernie Ford Show.
Don't miss the next edition of Cruisin'...coming soon!
“Words and photographs could never do those dancers justice because you had to be there - in a club with great music, like minded people and loads of atmosphere.” David Meikle of Glasgow, Scotland wrote those words in an article remembering the Twisted Wheel, the legendary northern soul club in Manchester, England. Yet, Mr. Meikle could just as easily have been describing the scene at my favorite "in" spot of the 1960s, the Shady Dell in York (Pennsylvania, not England).
THE SHADY DELL
YORK, PENNSYLVANIA
The Shady Dell: Part of York County's Colorful History
What began as a home based restaurant and bakery in 1945 evolved over the next two decades into the hottest teen nightspot in York county complete with indoor and outdoor dance floors. It went beyond that. Shady Dell owner John Ettline and his wife Helen put out the welcome mat offering hospitality, comfort, support, and encouragement to generations of young people. During its impressive 45-year life span the Dell became a home away from home for countless area youth from a variety of backgrounds.
At the height of its popularity in the early and mid 60s the Dell, located on the southern outskirts of the White Rose city, was as widely known as North York’s White Oak Park ("the Oaks"), Harrisburg's Raven club, or any other youth-oriented venue in central Pennsylvania. The Dell attracted crowds from all over the region. It brought together under one roof kids from middle class families and kids from working class families - city kids, suburban kids, small town kids and farm kids.
The diverse cast of characters that constituted the Shady Dell family was a potentially volatile mix. Each of us had to find a way to fit in and get along (or risk being voted off the island). In the end, in spite of our differences, most of us learned to dance together without stepping on each other’s toes.
'Dell rats' as we were called had at least two things in common: a love of the music that played on the Dell’s jukebox and a genuine respect for John and Helen Ettline who graciously made their home our home.
GREATER THAN THE SUM OF ITS PARTS
The Dell was a unique, magical coming of age experience - a proving ground - a secluded hideaway where adolescents could develop social skills, learn to handle responsibility, and test the waters of adulthood free from the hassles of ubiquitous adult micromanagement.
SHOCKING TRUE CONFESSION: I WAS A TEENAGE DELL RAT! by Shady Del Knight
I became a Dell rat in 1965 at the age of fifteen. Disparaging rumors about the place had been circulating for years. If you were to believe the gossip, the Dell was a snake pit where bad boys and bad girls went to do bad things. Some people, including my mother, referred to the Dell as a “den of iniquity.” Intrigued by the horror stories, I was determined to get there and see for myself what all the fuss was about.
In preparation for my grand entrance, I subjected myself to weeks of rigorous training at a Shady Dell boot camp of my own devise. I grew my hair longer and took up the smoking habit. I practiced in front of a mirror until I was convinced that my stance, walk, and dancing style were all cool.
To complete my extreme makeover, I went shopping for my 'uniform' which consisted of a tapered shirt from the Hub, slacks by H.I.S., and two wardrobe essentials: a pair of blue Jack Purcell sneakers and the all-important Baracuta jacket "Made in England." Wearing my 'Cuta' made me feel so terribly, terribly British, you know. Spot on for us bird watchin' blokes, right gov'na?
'JACKS'
AN ABSOLUTE MUST...FOR DANCIN' ON DELL DUST!
THE CLASSIC TAN BARACUTA
STRICTLY CONTINENTAL, MATE!
Moment of Truth: Boy Meets Dell
Too young to drive, I made my first Dell visit happen by bumming a ride one night with my college-age cousin and two of his buddies. Clearly, none of the above was thrilled to be babysitting.
As we drove past York Hospital on South George and headed toward Violet Hill, what began as giddy anticipation was turning to apprehension. Fear of the unknown started creeping into my brain. What if the rumors turned out to be true? Would I soon be sharing a needle with a gang of rowdy bikers?
At Violet Hill, we made a dogleg turn to the right and began climbing the narrow, winding and bumpy Starcross Road. By now, my breathing had become labored and I felt queasy. It was as if, on a foolish dare, I had agreed to spend the night with Vincent Price in his House on Haunted Hill. Was it too late to leap from the car and bolt?
"I See the Lights... I See the Party Lights..."
We rounded a bend and I caught my first glimpse of her a short distance up the road. Perched on the hillside was a three-story brick house and, down to the left, a barn. The festive glow of colored lights rose skyward from an area behind the house. The atmospheric illumination, as I would soon learn, originated from strings of lanterns hanging above a patio rigged with remote speakers for outdoor dancing.
We banked to make our final approach, and I detected the percussive beat of uptempo music that was emanating from the barn and terrace and projecting outward across the surrounding countryside. We turned left into a gravel parking lot that was overflowing with vehicles. Here, in all of her rustic splendor, stood the infamous Shady Dell, my destination for the evening and my obsession for years to come!
I Found My Thrill on Violet Hill
My heart was thumping as we climbed the steps that led to the entrance and approached the admission booth. Following my cousin’s lead, I slid a quarter through the window and looked up to see a balding, bespectacled old man grinning back at me. Old? John Ettline would have been 59 at the time. I'm older than that now. Yikes!
“Good evening, gentlemen!” John delivered his cheerful salutation in a booming baritone. Immediately, my anxiety vanished. John’s warm welcome made me feel right at home. It made me feel like I belonged. Although I didn’t get it at the time, John’s presupposition that we were "gentlemen" was a clever and tactful way of admonishing us to behave accordingly.
Toto, I've a Feeling We're Not in Kansas Anymore!
From the moment I entered the compound, I was hooked. The Dell was a private playground for teenagers - a candy land - a fun factory - a safe haven where kids could congregate and blow off steam without having to worry about parents and teachers giving them the evil eye. Instantly, I became intoxicated - not by alcohol - but by a sense of total freedom. Moreover, there was a vibe in the air at the Dell that was completely new to me – an exhilarating blend of romance, adventure and danger!
Instead of placing a ton of restrictions on their young patrons, John and Helen granted us the independence teenagers crave. The Ettlines were willing to take a step back and trust our judgment. It was okay for us to party as long as things didn’t get out of hand. Most of us eagerly embraced that arrangement. If and when we screwed up, the Ettlines gave us another chance. John and Helen cut you plenty of slack, but if you disrespected them or trashed their establishment both were capable of unleashing a fiery temper.
Of Rats and Men
Contrary to popular belief, the Dell did not harbor gangs of juvenile delinquents eager to conceal their wicked deeds from law enforcement. Sorry, Mom - there weren’t any guns, switchblades or brass knuckles - no gangs, career criminals or prostitutes - just a bunch of ordinary teenagers who loved to meet, mix and mingle, dance and have fun.
Fights were few and far between. There was tacit agreement that it was our duty to preserve and protect the unique setting that the Ettlines had created for us. It required us to police ourselves to prevent incidents that would generate negative publicity or hassles with the law. Scuffles were settled quickly, often through John’s bold intervention. One of the first lessons a guy learned at the Dell was: don’t let the gray hair fool you - nobody messes with John - he’s the boss!
A Special Welcome to All Incoming Freshmen!
I got punched in the face three times during my first year of matriculation on the campus of the Shady Dell School of Hard Knocks. Apparently, a few of the guys were determined to teach me a lesson. Yet, such incidents could not dampen my enthusiasm or scare me away from the place. In fact, they had the opposite effect - they whet my appetite for more! As a Dell newbie desperate to break free of mom’s apron strings and earn respect and acceptance, I wasn’t about to let a bloody nose deter me. For the first time in my life, I felt like a man instead of a boy and I loved it. Just like Secret Agent Man, I was living a life of danger. I was addicted to the rush!
Determined to create an image that would allow me to blend in, appeal to the ladies, and avoid becoming a frequent target of the tribe's dominant males, I engaged in a good deal of posing, posturing and pretending. I decided that it would be advantageous for me to look tough, even though I wasn't. Whenever I strolled into the dance hall, I made sure that my hair was messed up, my shirt tail was hanging out, a lit cigarette was dangling from my lips, and my game face was on.
One afternoon before anybody else arrived, my best friend and I rolled around on the dance floor of the barn so that we could properly break-in our new Baracuta jackets by getting them coated with Dell dust. This drove my mother crazy. She kept asking me how I got my jacket so badly soiled. She was even more perplexed when I forbade her to get it cleaned. How could I explain to her that I didn’t want to risk weakening my status with the other guys by wearing a clean jacket?
In my mom’s day, the ideal guy wore a white sportcoat and a pink carnation. His hair was neatly cropped, oiled down and slicked back off his forehead. That look would have spelled social suicide at the Dell in the mid 60s. My goal was to look like I had just been in a fight at reform school, and if I got my uniform dirty or bloodied in combat, it was a GOOD thing.
Helen & John Ettline
Shady Dell Owners
Helen and John: Not Your Typical Mom and Pop
Even by mid 60s standards, John Ettline seemed part of a vanishing breed of men. John never called me by my first name. He always chose to address me as “Mr. Knight." John maintained that friendly formality through all the years I knew him. I’m very glad he did. John always made me feel important when he added the title “Mr.” to my name. Making insecure teenagers feel good about themselves was John’s greatest gift. He always treated young people with dignity and respect and that made them want to return it.
Along with his outstanding people skills, John possessed a photographic memory. He could always match a face with a name. He seemed to know a lot about anything or anybody that you happened to be discussing. John Ettline had a million stories to tell - all of them interesting.
Although old enough to be our grandparents, there was no generation gap between the Ettlines and their teenage guests. They seemed to remember better than other grown-ups what it was like to be young. John and Helen stayed in touch and in tune with the youth culture. Never was that more in evidence than one day at the York Fair in September, 1968. I was sitting in the grandstand awaiting the start of the James Brown concert. I turned around to search the crowd for familiar faces and there, a few rows behind me, sat Helen and John. In a year when racial tension was running high in York and elsewhere, it was remarkable to see a white couple in their 60s at a James Brown concert, chanting along with the rest of us, “Say It Loud: I’m Black and I’m Proud!”
John and Helen were cool. Young people felt at ease talking with them. Unlike many adults, John and Helen listened to us. They cared without preaching or judging. The Ettlines treated their teen visitors like extended family. They believed in the potential of every young person, including troubled youth from broken homes. They spoke to us about the value of an education and honest hard work. They sponsored athletic programs and honored America’s armed forces. They shaped young lives by instilling a sense of pride and self esteem. John and Helen went out of their way to make all of their kids feel like somebody - even those whose families were telling them they were nobody.
The Dell Jukebox: ALL KILLER AND NO FILLER!
Upon arriving on the Dell scene, I soon realized that the jukebox in the barn was loaded with the greatest, most danceable records to be found anywhere. There were quite a few songs that I had never heard before, and would never hear anywhere else. The music that played nightly at the Dell was consistently better than that being played on top 40 radio. During the mid 60s, the musical menu at the Dell was a combination of Motown, northern soul, blue-eyed soul, Memphis sound, southern r&b, British beat, girl group, American pop and folk-rock, plus a few do-wop favorites held over from the 50s.
Shady Dell regulars prided themselves on having radar for cool. Year in and year out, they discovered and popularized songs that radio stations across the country had somehow overlooked. Records that lingered near the bottom of the national chart often became cherished classics at the Dell. Forgotten flips were elevated to mega-hit status by Dell rats unfettered by the limitations of radio play lists.
Certain songs resonated with the Dell crowd to such an extent that they remained on the jukebox for years. The best example of this phenomenon is the song that I picked as #1 on my survey of the 200 Greatest Hits Of The Shady Dell. That song was still one of the most popular selections on the Dell’s jukebox a dozen years after its initial release in the 50s! That very special song, the greatest and longest lasting Shady Dell hit of all time, was "Close Your Eyes" by the Five Keys!
THE FIVE KEYS
"Close Your Eyes" Ranked #1
Del-Chords & Magnificent Men
Another mighty evergreen at the Dell was "Everybody’s Gotta Lose Someday," an intense, power-packed r&b/soul ballad by the Del-Chords, a racially mixed group from York. Released in 1964, the record was still being played heavily two years later, jamming the floor with slow dancers several times a night. Dave Bupp and Buddy King, lead vocalists from the Del-Chords, eventually merged with band members from Harrisburg’s Endells to form the blue-eyed soul group, the Magnificent Men. The “Mag Men,” as we called them, were white guys who had a passion for black music and the vocal talent and musicianship to authentically perform it. Their awesome, inspirational ballad "Peace of Mind" became the first in an impressive string of Dell hits for our hometown heroes.
Magnificent Men
HEAVY HITTERS AT THE DELL!
The Emperors of Harrisburg
Records by the Emperors, another home-grown act, were also enormously popular with Dell dancers. The Emperors, a black group from the state capital, became leading exponents of the “Harrisburg sound,” a blend of r&b, soul and Latin influences. "Karate," the Emperors’ best known recording, was the first of eight raw, funky, organ-driven numbers to achieve hit status at the Dell in 1966 and 1967.
THE EMPERORS
DELL ROYALTY - THEY RULED!
End of an Era
Once addicted to the Dell, I pretty much lived there until the fall of 1967 when I left York to attend an institution of higher learning. Over the next four years, I visited my Dell family whenever possible during holidays, spring breaks, and summer vacations. My stint as a Dell rat officially ended in 1971 when I found a job in another city and moved away from York for good.
My final visit to the Dell came in March of 1984 when my career took me out of state. My last piece of business before leaving was to drop in at the Dell and say a final goodbye. I entered the house to find John sitting on a stool at the lunch counter reading the newspaper. “Well, hello stranger!” John bellowed, rising to his feet and extending his hand. “Long time no see, Mr. Knight!" After shaking hands with John and exchanging a few pleasantries, I inquired about Helen. I was stunned to learn that she had passed away a few weeks earlier. I never got the news! John and I stood alone in Helen’s snack bar, reminiscing about the good old days and lamenting how much things had changed since the Dell’s golden era.
After a brief chat, I excused myself and walked down the sidewalk to check out the barn. The old dance hall was dimly lit and nearly vacant. The only customers were two boys with shoulder length hair standing by the jukebox with a couple of girls. No music was playing. The place was dead - or at least in the final lonely stages of life. If it had been twenty years earlier, the joint would have been jumpin’. The four young people eyed me suspiciously. Is this guy a narc? I put myself in their combat boots and realized that the sight of a stranger in his mid thirties was probably making this new generation of Dell rats uncomfortable. I promptly exited the barn and returned to the house to bid farewell to John.
That night marked the last time I ever saw John or entered the Shady Dell. I made one final pilgrimage in 1988 when I returned to Pennsylvania to visit my parents. I drove up to the Dell one afternoon with every intention of going inside. I’m sure I would have encountered a smiling John Ettline who would have immediately remembered my name. Yet, I never got out of the car. I chose not to enter because I didn’t want to further contaminate my memories by seeing how much older John looked and how much more dilapidated the Dell had become. All I could do was sit there in the parking lot gazing at the barn, the house, the bench, and the steps to the admission booth where the whole journey started. My mind flooded with a thousand memories of the people, the place, and the time of my life.
John Ettline closed the Dell in the fall of 1991. He died at the beginning of 1993. John’s family auctioned off the restaurant equipment, signage and other Dell paraphernalia in the spring of that year.
(Mike Argento's 1993 article in the York Daily Record was used as a reference source for portions of this cover story.)
Shady Dell Music & Memories is now on YouTube!
Click on the logo above and watch videos created exclusively for this blog on the Sally Fowler Rat Pack channel!
I couldn't wait for classes to end so that I could bust loose, drive back to York, get up the hill to the Dell, check in with Helen and John, and check out the jukebox records in the barn. 
"My Baby Must Be a Magician" – Marvelettes 
"I Can’t Stand Myself (When You Touch Me)" – James Brown 
"Chain of Fools" – Aretha Franklin 
"A Love That’s Real" – Intruders 
"Judy in Disguise" – John Fred & His Playboy Band 
"We’re a Winner" – Impressions 
"I Wish it Would Rain" – Temptations 
"I Truly, Truly Believe" – Temptations 
Have a Shady day and a safe and happy new year celebration!
