Most Memorable Night at the Florabama

When we went to the Florabama, the plan was simple: catch Wayne Mills live and enjoy a good night of music. The place was packed out—standing room only. We were lucky to find a spot right inside the door at the end of the tent. A table was right behind us, but we weren’t paying it or anyone much attention. We were just enjoying the moment—singing along, having a good time, and soaking it all in.

Then, out of nowhere, I got pushed—hard. I mean, as hard as you could push someone from behind. It nearly knocked me down. I caught myself, thankfully. I was younger then and still had quick feet. I turned around, ready to swing, because I just figured whoever did that really wanted to start something.

Standing behind me was a man—probably 75 or 76 years old. Somebody’s granddaddy. He was leaning over the table he’d just used as leverage to shove me. And he looked ready. I locked eyes with him and froze. Even in my youthful vigor, I wasn’t about to throw hands with someone’s papaw.

That’s when his wife jumped in, eyes wide, trying to drag her husband back to their table. She was in her seventies, too, pulling on his arm and screaming sharp rebukes only a lifelong partner can deliver effectively.

And then, the truth came out.

One of our buddies, standing just behind us, finally spoke up. Apparently, he’d been bumping into that old man’s table all night—unintentionally, of course—but enough times to knock over multiple drinks... right into the poor guy’s lap.

Papaw had just had enough.

I guess the real lesson from that night wasn’t just that the Florabama knows how to pack a house and throw a party. It was this: always know who you're standing with—and what kind of trouble they might be stirring up behind you.

Story Credit: Phillip

Full Story and More Here: https://youtu.be/Q1lj6Yupw2U