The Peppermint Lounge

I don't think I am saying anything new to you when I say, "Oh, the trouble youth can find...".

It was the summer just before Rick Heckman's and my senior senior year at good 'ol PHS. He worked at one of the petroleum related industries located on Price Road.

Our Peppermint Lounge Connection

Rick worked with a man named Jesse Fuller, who was from "the flats."

Jesse was the singer of a band that regularly performed at the Peppermint Lounge. (As I understand it, he went on to Detroit under a contract with MoTown records.) Jesse was one huge man!

Not many days prior to the crux of my story, I met him at Rick's work place. He was loading a couple of 30 gallon drums of hydraulic fluid on to the back of a truck - by hand and by himself!

He squatted, wrapped his arms around the barrel, stood up straight, and with a low grunt thrust his body upward and forward enough to place them on the truck bed. No handles. No straps. No hoists. Just his bare arms.

Jesse had offered to Rick that if we stopped by to see him on this particular Friday evening, he would supply us with a case of beer. He had told Rick that we would either find him at his home or the Peppermint Lounge

Cruising the Peppermint Lounge

We had a hard time finding his home, so we just drove around - periodically passing the Lounge, looking for signs of his presence. At each pass, the eyes of some male local residents grew more stern and un-welcoming.

It was about the fifth pass around this particular corner that these four men - all good sized - stepped in front of my '56 chevy and waved us down. One stayed in front of the car. Two went to Rick's side. And the remaining one - the biggest - came to my door. It was hot. The windows were down.

One of the men on Rick's side asked, "Now just what are you boys doing here?" Rick started his answer, but before he could get it out, the man on my side - it seemed his whole head filled the window - spoke to me. All conversation on the other side of the car ceased.

I remember to this day those eyes. They had no whites. What should have been white was mahogany - a deep dark mahogany. And they were only six inches from mine. His breath - well his breath almost made me drunk. He said in a deep and serious voice, "Zzz rubv blu blu?" I put the question mark here, because I could at least tell by the inflection that he was asking a question.

Failure to Communicate at the Peppermint Lounge

I looked at him - nervously out the front window - then back at him and said, "I'm sorry - what did you say?"

After a rumbling, grunting, impatient exhale, "Zzz —- rubv —- blu blu?"

I looked over to Rick just long enough to see if he was going to offer any help. I certainly did not want the back of my head exposed for too long. Assistance would not be forthcoming.

Still confused, and having no clue of the "safe" response - but being confident that to ask for one more repeat would mean my certain death, I said, in my frantic analysis that he must be asking me if we wanted trouble, "Uh - no. We aren't looking for trouble."

The Color of Blood at the Peppermint Lounge

That wasn't the question.

He growled like an angry bear and with both hands firmly gripping my door, began shaking and rocking my car like it was one of those kiddy-ride cars. Then one of the men on the other side, lunged through the window with one hand pushing Rick against the seat and the other turning my car off.

With his face now also within inches said, "He asked you if your blood was red."

"Yes - yes - its red - its red", I exclaimed.

Then Rick blurted out, "We're just lookin' for Jesse Fuller."

Dropping Names at the Peppermint Lounge

All bodies that were not white were suddenly outside the car. The one that had kindly done the translating for me, now standing about two feet from the car, cocked his head and said, "You mean Jesse Ray Fuller?"

Rick said, "Yeah... yeah... Jesse Ray. He's my friend. I work with him."

"Hey man - I didn't realize you were friends of Jesse's. We don't know where he is - but when you see him, please don't tell him anything about this. Please don't."

And when we found Jesse a little while later, we said nothing about what had previously happened at the Peppermint Lounge