December 10th 1967

Witnessed the plane crash of music legend

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Winter 1967 and I was an awkward fourteen years old. The Old Man and I had just spent the weekend at the cottage in Adams County Wisconsin winterizing the place. All water lines were thoroughly drained and blown out to eliminate any water they might contain. The toilet, shower laundry room and washing machine were drained as well. Then we'd pour antifreeze in all the lines, finally disconnecting the water pump and packing it away so it wouldn't freeze and crack. Our place was one among five others that received the service. Neighbors paid the Old Man to winterize their cottages the first week in December right after Deer Hunting Season. I was now on the payroll. The past couple of years he did this work for no charge and I told him this year, my services were no longer free. Surprisingly he agreed with me and I received sixty five dollars for my help.

We stopped in Madison on our way back to Chicago to return Arthur Herfull's keys to his place. The Old Man and Arthur had some type of secret agent friendship. They seldom talked to one another out loud when they were together, communicating only in whispers exchanged in close proximity. I wandered outside and walked down to the Lake. Arthur and his wife Gladys, lived in a large three story house right on Lake Monona. There wasn't much snow on the ground and the lake had yet to freeze over. It was just December tenth and Monona didn't completely freeze until January. A thick fog covered most of the area making it difficult to view the far shore. A constant drizzle danced raindrops on the lake's surface. It was a Sunday afternoon close to 3:30 and I was looking forward to getting home to take care of some business dealing with a pound of Weed I planned on purchasing.

It was eerily quiet with just the sound of waves slapping the shoreline. I could hear a small airplane's engine sputtering not far away. Then it stalled out and the plane suddenly appeared cutting through the fog crashing into Lake Monona. I wasn't sure of what I had just witnessed, it took a minute or so for me to validate what had happened. I ran into the house screaming, " Plane crash! Call the police, a plane just crashed into the lake."

Gladys looked at me with a questioning glare, not saying anything. The Old Man and Arthur walked in the kitchen with looks of complete bewilderment.

"Hey what the hell are you talking about. What plane, where?" The Old Man hollered.

"Just now! An airplane crashed into the lake. It stalled out and slammed into the lake."

"Okay settle down Santiago. This better be true, not one of your pranks "

"It's the truth. I promise."

"Hello Police? A young man here claims he witnessed a small airplane crash into Lake Monona about five minutes ago."

"What did they say?" The Old Man asks.

Arthur hung up the phone and put his hand on my shoulder.

"He's telling the truth. There's been a few more reports of the same thing."

" See I told you so. I wasn't giving you any bullshit."

"The police are on the way over. They want to interview you and find out exactly what you saw."

We all walked outside to the shoreline looking to see if there were any signs of the plane crash. Police and Fire Engine sirens screamed pulling in by the boat ramp fifty yards or so down the beach. A boat was launched and four or five guys loaded in. cranked up the motor, and quickly headed out to locate the crash sight.

Soon the shoreline was filled with bystanders looking for any indication of the plane crash. Conversations started with people asking how many passengers were in the plane. A nearby car had its radio turned up with a news broadcast telling information about the incident.

"Who is Otis Redding? They said his whole band was in the plane." I heard someone mention.

"I don't know who Otis Redding is either. Do you know?" The Old Man asked Arthur.

"Don't think I've heard of him." He answered

"He's a Rhythm and Blues singer who sang the soul song 'Try A Little Tenderness'.

I don't think he was very old, twenty two or so. Damn what a horrible way to die."

"Ya I figured you'd know who in the hell he was. The guy was just some black singer, according to Little Mister Know It All." The Old Man informed Arthur and Gladys.

"We should be heading out now. I don't want to get back too late, the boy has school tomorrow."

"The police want to talk with Santiago. Aren't you gonna wait for them to get his statement?"

"He's going to tell them the same as everyone else that saw the crash is gonna say. It's a waste of time. I'll call you with what we talked about earlier."

"Have a safe trip you two. I'll tell the Cops you had to go." Arthur said, shaking the Old Man's hand.

As usual there was no conversation during the three hour drive home. I had absolutely no interest in anything he had to say and he definitely didn't want to hear thoughts or opinions on any subject of mine.

Just as we crossed the State line into Illinois he mentioned with a sarcastic laugh, “Guess that's one black musician you won't be supporting buying his music."

I didn't acknowledge his racist comment and kept quiet all the way back.

However a month or so later Otis Redding's 'Dock of the Bay' was released posthumously. I constantly played it whenever the Old Man was around.

"What in the hell is that song you keep playing over and over?" He finally asked.

"It's a new record I bought by Otis Redding, the guy that was killed in the plane crash."

He didn't say anything, just shook his head and walked away. Then a couple of seconds later he came back in my room and with his pocket knife he cut the electric cord to my stereo.

By Judge Santiago Burdon