In the summer of 1980, I decided to take a year off from law school to restore my health and sanity. I moved back to Nashville with the loose expectation of a job, which promptly fell through; so, I spent the summer doing everything from scraping paint off houses to projecting Don Evans movies at the Parthenon (those were
indeed different times). At one point, I interviewed for a job in the music business only to discover that it involved hawking Pope Paul II picture discs. Out of desperation, I applied for a job at the Great Escape, which, in its young history, had already become my go-to used record store. As I recall, the owner, Gary Walker, told me almost immediately that there were no openings. Yet, somehow, we got onto the subject of buying and selling rare records and advertising in Goldmine magazine. Weirdly enough, I had been buying and selling records through Goldmine auctions (as well as other publications) since high school, and what I might have lacked in experience I think I made up for in genuine enthusiasm. Remarkably, I walked out of the store with the best job of my life. For the next 14 months, I helped put together the store's massive two-page monthly advertisements in Goldmine, meaning I helped select the records, graded them, wrote the listings (thank God I didn't have to type them), kept track of the bids, sent out the winners' letters, and then cleaned, packed and shipped the discs. My other job responsibilities included sweeping the store every morning and checking the vintage issues ofPlayboy magazine the store sold to make sure the foldouts were intact. I was in heaven. The store also gave employees a discount and first crack at the used records that came in. That was dangerous. To this day, I marvel at how many records in my collection still have the tell-tale Great Escape sticker in the upper right hand corner.
But my favorite part of the job was getting to know Gary Walker and his family. Gary had years of experience in the music business. I learned much of this while working at the store and much more later – and he knew everybody, so you never knew who might show up in the store. He had such enthusiasm for his job and the enterprise he was growing (the store eventually expanded to four or five different locations). His enthusiasm was contagious. And, as I recall, he never wore a watch. I really enjoyed the time I got to spend around him, his wife Peggy and their children Karen and Greg. I’m still friends with Greg (a guy who knows more obscure music trivia than I’ll ever possibly know) today.
Eventually, I had to leave Nashville again to return to law school, but Gary let me work for him again the following summer while I clerked for a Nashville law firm, and I am proud that years later I got to do some legal work for his record label, Great Escape Records. When Gary passed away several weeks ago, I was kind of shocked to read that he was 87 years old. Chronologically, that made sense, but in my mind, he was much younger. He was someone I was genuinely happy to run into because he was always positive and onto something new and great.
It is hard to find a good definition of the word “mentor” that doesn’t sound corny but I just saw the term defined as “anyone who is a positive guiding influence on another person’s life”. Gary probably didn’t know this but he was a very positive influence on my life at a time that I needed a positive influence- and I’m sure I’m not the only person who feels this way.
