What a fool believes

But what a fool believes he sees ...
No wise man has the power to reason away
What seems ... to be
Is always better than nothing

The Doobie Brothers

I'm standing in the middle of a county road. The blacktop ends about a half mile back in this picture and then, the road becomes gravel. The gravel road ends about a quarter mile further. Birdland is the end of the road, where the gravel ends. The road, according to maps, runs behind me in this shot for just under a mile, all the way back to the river yet, this sand trail is about as good as the road gets from here.  At one time, it was to be a gateway for thousands, and now, where the gravel ends there's a gate, a simple gate. One of the landowners who owns a parcel in back put a "do not trespass" sign on it. It's nothing more than an ineffective notice. I don't think the county really cares about the road past the gate. Less maintenance and they show no resistance to the fact that there's a private gate on a county road.

Once upon a time, thirty some years ago, Birdland was in full bloom. Birdland was place where schemes hatched and with that, and a few drinks, someone always had a comment about knowing someone, who knows someone, who maybe can be the contact for greater things. As the story goes, Russel, Katherine's father, who's seems to have a great case of selective memory, recalls young kid who was hanging around Birdland who knew someone, who had contacts to a major concert promotion and production company. Concerts bring in people and money and everything about Birdland had a feel good quality about it.  Let the good times roll!

The production company was interested in the concept and made contact with Russel. Everything seemed to be falling into place except the site work needed for the venue and an estimated crowd of about 14,000 attendees. This was a venture and Russel was salivating at a money engine, success, promotion, notoriety, fame and fortune. Young and ambitious, think epic, think friends with deep pockets, political insiders, guys who could make things work, the deal makers. Russel was massaging the works with whatever tools he had. He used money and he had the land.


And so work again began in earnest to prepare Birdland for greatness. The area was still primarily open field, so attendees could park and camp essentially anywhere. Roads were cut on the property, pavilions built, and electric service was brought onto an island in the middle of a lake. A bridge, an elevated stage overlooking the water was planned and the acres of grounds across from the stage, was ready for thousands of people. Russel is a people person. Concert promoter. Visionary. Entrepreneur.

Plans were in the works, the Chicago market, the great Midwest market, heck, think national. What attraction could draw throngs of crowds to this venue? Doobie Brothers 1979. The band with the number one song and number one record of the year. The band  had the contract and conections with the very production company Russel was in contact with. Visions of grandeur with The Doobie Brothers appearing live on stage at Birdland! Forget east and west coast venues, this could be Woodstock - Birdland.

When I heard this story originally and read the actual newspaper articles about it, small town paper mind you, I was taken back by the audacious roll of the dice that Russel took. I'm all in favor of good planning. I like to think in practical terms, like where were all these people really going to park and pee? The gravel roads didn't even exist at that time. The roads leading off the state road over a mile away were nothing more than sand ruts. Russel sure wasn't going to rent portable toilets, heck, he already had three outhouses, that's plenty. Guys don't need an outhouse anyway.

I remember watching the movie Woodstock, based upon the famous music festival in New York in 1969. Crazy man, just crazy. Most of the locals around here seemed to be united in their opinion and  were thinking along the same lines. "Now hold on a minute. Hell, we don't want no long haired, marijuana smokin' hippies 'round here. There's no Doobies that live 'round here and come to think of it, what the heck is a doobie anyway?"

As the wind drifts around here, eventually word drifted south to Kentland, the county seat. When word hit that this attorney-newbie-businessman-goofball was going to upset the peace and tranquility of the area, the officials opened the books and looked for roadblocks. It didn't take long. This was farm country and not an entertainment magnet. There's no room that kind of business and it's zoned agricultural and the county commissioners like the local economy just the way it is. Don't go messin'  with things 'round here. And so the powers that be declared their stance and a determined attorney declared his and the challenge was on.


Meanwhile, back at Birdland, dreams don't die easy and Russel wasn't backing off. Zoning ordinances can be challenged, modified and the system marshaled in creative ways, if you know the game. And so the preparations continued, mind you that there was never a contract with the production company and no guarantees of any promised appearance from anyone. Russel, the visionary-attorney-entreprenuer, just forged ahead, looking forward to welcoming the band with open arms as they sauntered across the bridge to hospitality area below the stage.

At the zoning hearing, a staunch and sober group of board members had their say, and they weren't going to budge. It's agriculture and that's it, not an area for business ventures and attractions. Russel appealed the decision and the county dragged it out for years until Russel hit the dead end.

The players who schemed the great event were long gone, just like so many others who used Birdland as a playground and hangout place. Spending money is easy and this time, it was an investment that was all cost and no return. Maybe visionaries and dreamers just are averse to consequences despite how intelligent they seem to be. And so, Russel closed the door on another venture gone bust.

The Dobbie Brothers, on the other hand, continued on their way to fame and fortune. The closest The Doobie Brothers ever made it to Birdland was a probably a flyover into Chicago's O'Hare. And the grounds, concert goers and the county, they missed out on the greatest concert that never happened at Birdland.