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by Phil Houseal
May 31, 2006
You’ve heard the term “garage band.” It usually refers to a group of teenagers, meeting in the garage of the most tolerant dad to bang out music on instruments they are still learning to play.
Recently I stumbled onto a garage band at the other end of the musical experience level. I was driving down East Austin Street around 8:30 one evening when I heard strains of Fraulein coming from the back yard of someone's house. I swung into an alley and came upon the following scene.
Inside a two-car garage was a six-piece group knocking out classic tunes such as Kentucky Waltz and Heartaches by the Number. Several appreciative couples sat on plastic lawn furniture, sipping drinks and sharing chips.
Dave Laughlin, 71, put down his acoustic guitar and came over to introduce the band that was playing in his garage. Fred Pfeiffer, also 71, of Harper, plays rhythm guitar. Jimmie Hutto of Kerrville has fiddling duties. The 73-year-old retired railroad conductor sawed out tunes he first learned in the 1940s in the dance halls. Assuming lead vocals and guitar was Ronald Fagan, still working in the oil field industry.
Bruce Jordan was the dean of the outfit, playing a steady bass at age 86. The retired civil servant used to play in the Army band and in various dance bands around San Antonio.
The youngest, 27-year-old Travis Graham, works by day as the executive chef at the Fredericksburg Herb Farm. By night, he becomes “garage band drummer.”
Laughlin, who moved to Fredericksburg full-time in 1999, put this group together “just for the pure enjoyment.”
“I called them up and asked them to come by,” he explained as the band continued to play. “I tried to get together some of the better than average musicians.”
Back in Centerville, Iowa, in the 1950s, Laughlin and his brother were good enough to perform regularly as the Iowa Balladeers on radio station KCOG. He turned to sales to make a living, but when he and his wife, Pat, moved permanently to Fredericksburg in 1994, he started picking up the guitar, tenor banjo, and mandolin again.
“The last five to six years I’ve really gotten into it,” he said.
In fact, he built the garage with music in mind. It looks like a regular garage: pegboard with tools, bike hanging from the rafters, and an unused treadmill against the wall. But you begin to suspect something is askew when you see a Marshall amp on the workbench next to the bandsaw, and nary a car in sight.
The band plays for no other reason than for the fun of it.
“We all really like this,” Laughlin said. “It’s good old country classics, and occasionally we throw in a hymn or two.”
The neighbors don’t seem to mind. A few even stopped by to listen.
“I don’t even know who those folks are,” Laughlin admitted, gesturing toward some of the spectators.
Laughlin now works three days a week at the music store, playing music a couple of nights a week.
“At my age, it doesn’t get any better than this!” he said, smiling. Then he strapped on his guitar and walked back into the garage.
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