Gainesville Welcomes Native Son

By Leslie Gray StreeterPalm Beach Post

GAINESVILLE — There is no Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers wing at the Matheson Museum, maintained by the Alachua County Historic Trust in a cozy downtown building, no music video retrospective, or even that freaky-big Mad Hatter hat Petty wore in the Don't Come Around Here No More video.

But if you make your way past the intricately recreated general store and the exhibit about the area's Timucuan Indians, you can have a seat at a long library table, where a nice employee will hand you the 1967 edition of The Hurricane, Gainesville High School's yearbook.

And there, in the junior class section, listed under the "P's," is a guy in regulation white shirt and dark tie, staring from under an unassuming thatch of short blond hair. Nothing about Tommy
Petty suggests his rise to rock stardom within the next decade — like most of the guys in his class, his conservative outfit and neat coiffure say more "Future bank manager" than anything else.

But if you flip toward the middle of the book, you'll see several photos of the various local bands who all get their equipment from Lipham's Music Company. The bands, The Taxmen, The Maundy Quintet and The Epics, are all at their Mersey Beat best, their longish bangs swept magnificently across their eager foreheads.

And there with The Epics, posed languidly against a brick wall around a drum bearing the band's name, is Tommy Petty. His face is still unlined and full of that beautiful prideful innocence that propels a young man to pick up a guitar and dare dream that he, out of all of these beautiful young men, is going to be a star.

Petty's not the only guy who ever made it out of Gainesville to the bright arena lights — The Eagles' Don Felder and Bernie Leadon, who's in that Maundy Quartet picture, are from here, so "a lot of people are interested in the musical history of the area," says Lisa Auel, the museum's director.

But whenever that history's mentioned, it's often in association with Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers. They're the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame-inducted sons of this university town, whose Victorian houses and tree-lined streets would seem to be more a part of a sleepy genteel Georgia than the theme parks and palm trees outsiders might associate with Florida.

Petty's name has come up a lot lately, because that evening, the band will have a triumphant homecoming performance on the University of Florida's campus, their first show here in 13 years, celebrating their 30th anniversary.

As Petty says later that day at a press conference at the O'Connell Center, where they will completely freak out a sold-out crowd, "it wouldn't have made any sense if we didn't play here."
Thomas Earl Petty was born here, went to school here and discovered music here, like a lot of guys in the vibrant 1960s Gainesville band scene. Talk to any old-timer, you'll probably hear a story about seeing the thin blond dude play with the Epics, or with Mudcrutch, pieces of which became The Heartbreakers. They'll talk about Heartbreakers Benmont Tench and Mike Campbell, who were in Mudcrutch, and Ron Blair, a Georgia native who joined them later with drummer Stan Lynch.

You'll also hear about Tommy's parents, the late Kitty, and the rest of his family, including first cousin Sadie Darnell, a 30-year veteran and former captain of the Gainesville Police Department, 2000's "Florida Law Enforcement Officer of the Year," and current candidate for Alachua County sheriff.

There are "Welcome Home" signs all over town, and in the halls of the Holiday Inn University Center, a cheerful maintenance worker pushing a large trash receptacle correctly guesses that guests lugging suitcases to their rooms are in town for the show.

"Everybody's goin' to see ol' Tom," the man says. "We gonna have a homecoming!"
Yep, everybody's going, at least everybody that could get tickets, which sold out in less than 30 minutes. Tom Petty is on everyone's mind, it seems, and so Lisa Auel's met people at the museum who want to know "where Tom Petty lived, where he played," she says.

It seems that tracing the steps of Tom Petty is as popular a tourist activity in Gainesville as visiting the places in Colonial America bearing the plaque "George Washington slept here."
"Except here," Auel says, "it's 'Tom Petty slept here.' "

'Petty kinda slept here'

Or at least "Tom Petty maybe kinda slept here... we think."

That's what Monta Burt and his wife, Peggy, were told by a guy taking part in a historic home tour that stopped at Laurel Oak Inn, the bright, sprawling Victorian bed and breakfast the Burts own. In a former life, the house was divided into four apartments and, along with a house next door, was Party Central in the late 1960s. The area gained the nickname "Hippie Hill," and one specific hippie was rumored to have bunked in a back bedroom, now Laurel Oak Inn's bright kitchen.
"We had this one lady come in and say 'I can't tell you what I used to do in this house,' " Monta Burt says, pointing to "Before" pictures of electric Kool-Aid-colored walls and general shabbiness. "And this one guy come through and he said 'When I was here, Petty had this place.' This apparently was the party palace."

In interviews, Petty has amusedly disputed the urban legends about all of the houses he's supposedly lived in in Gainesville, saying that after moving out of his parents' home, he only lived in apartments. Burt, whose family lived in Wellington for 10 years, says that even though that rumor about Petty's supposed residence at what is now the Laurel Oak Inn has never been substantiated, it was referred to in the home's official house tour description.

"I never confirmed that he lived here, but there's no doubt he was hanging here," he says. "The town loves that he's from here."

And as cool as it would have been to be able to hang an authenticated "Tom Petty Slept Here" sign over the stainless steel refrigerator, Burt says the rumors are an indication of how important the Heartbreakers are to Gainesville.

"He's big enough," Burt says, "that people would bother starting rumors about places he might have lived."

Where are they now?

"This guy, Dicky Underwood, he works for the city of Gainesville, and this one, Ricky Rucker, is a school teacher in Ocala," Buster Lipham says, his finger moving around a black and white photograph of The Epics, taken in the store's former location on Northeast Sixth Terrace.
"Ricky's brother Rodney Rucker works for the University of Florida. And this guy... " he says deadpanning, indicating a smiling blond kid in a white shirt, "this guy moved out of town."
Tommy Petty may or may not have crashed on a mattress on Hippie Hill, but it's documented fact that he spent a lot of quality time at Lipham's, the store Buster's late dad, Val, opened in 1965. Tommy worked there when he was in high school — the photo from the yearbook is posted on the wall behind the cash register, crowded in with some canceled checks signed by The Allman Brothers and a signed photo of Ray Charles.

"Gainesville was full of music. Tommy was like a lot of the kids, he got into music around the age of 11 or 12," Lipham says. "He came in one day and said 'I'd like a job.' He wanted to be a salesperson. He was really tenacious. If you came in here, you'd better watch out, 'cause Tommy was like a bulldog. He would not let you go 'til you bought something."
One of the clerks turns to a fiftysomething guy behind the counter, his dark shaggy hair the tell-tale sign of his life as a member of the Gainesville music scene.

"Hey, Tom, you knew Tommy, didn't you?" the clerk asks.
Tom Holtz nods. He's worked at Lipham's for 20 years, suggesting the right guitar or bass, and watching subsequent generations of the possibly soon-to-be famous walk in and out. Like Felder, Petty and Leadon, he was part of the scene that sprung up around the college "because there were so many young people to play for. Here you are in the middle of rural Florida, basically South Georgia.

"What else was there to do?"

Holtz says that most of the bands here at the time emulated the jangly sound of the Beatles and other British bands and America's the Byrds. Holtz and Tommy, who he'd been in a boys choir class with at Gainesville High, were in the scene together, sharing war stories and gigs, and even subbing in each other's bands every once in a while.

"So many," Holtz says, nonchalantly. "One time I filled in for a guy in Mudcrutch for a couple of weeks."

Screeeetch, goes the invisible record needle somewhere in your brain. Hold the phone... so what he's saying here is that, had Fate zigged instead of pulling one of her tricky zags, that he could've maybe have been a Heartbreaker, that maybe he'd be about to give a triumphant homecoming show rather than selling sheet music?

Holtz shrugs.

"I was coming from a three-piece jam band, a little more stream-of-consciousness. For me, the music Mudcrutch was doing was totally different. They were feeling me out," he says, not one bit of regret or "Coulda been me!" bitterness in his voice. "I don't think I was the person they needed."
From what Holtz remembers, Tommy Petty's playing (he was on bass then) was solid but didn't stand out among all the other solid players on the scene. It would be the songwriting skills that he was then just developing that would set him apart, skills based in his very ordinariness.

"He writes about everyday people, the thing that most people care about," Holtz says.
A couple of the guys in the band were in the store a few days ago, browsing and saying hello. Director Peter Bogdanovich, who's working on a documentary about the band, has been in, too. The last time Holtz saw Tommy was when Tommy, by then superstar Tom Petty, was in town 12 years ago for Earl Petty's funeral.

At first, he didn't recognize him under the big hat and coat he was wearing, and the big bodyguard he had with him was hard to see around. But then Tommy got his attention, said hello.
"He's still down to earth. That must be hardest for him to be," Holtz says. "That was cool."

Tattoo expansion

"This is the second round," Laura Campos says, her arms sweeping around a section at the mouth of Beef O' Brady's restaurant. There are about 25 people sitting in booths or around a long table, eating burgers and listening to some guys play Petty's The Waiting in front of a large TV screen where a muted Petty sings his heart out. There had been about 50.

"I know some people who work at the Hilton where the band is staying, and a girl ran into Tom. He signed her copy of his book," Campos says. "I'm so jealous, I could spit."

The 36-year-old manicurist, and Petty fan and owner Daniel McCann, organized this little hootenanny, and a tailgate party that will form later at Campos' parents' house, online. The guests are frequent visitors of some Petty fan sites, including Gonegator.com.

Campos' dad unknowingly hooked her when he took her to see Mudcrutch on the UF campus when she was 4. She's now seen Petty maybe 10 or 15 times — "I've lost count" — and she wears her fandom on her skin, the form of a band logo tattoo on her butt.

"And hell, no, I don't regret it," she says. "The band's so down-to-earth. And their music touches me. It's just good quality rock 'n' roll.... My goal now is to get my tattoo autographed by Tom, and then add it to my tattoo."

Steve Shaley's proving his devotion not with ink but with plane tickets. He and wife Terri flew into Orlando this morning from their home in St. Cloud, Minn., making the pilgrimage to Gainesville to celebrate two anniversaries — the Heartbreakers' 30th and the Shaleys' 23rd.

"Tom Petty's the only one I'd do this for," Steve Shaley says, finishing his drink. "It's been 13 years since he's played here, and I wanted to be a part of it. We just saw him back home in June. But we wanted to see the homecoming, and this was the greatest excuse to take a three-day trip."
Across town, James Lescott, who works at a local hotel, is installed with other fans at The Salty Dog, "which is dirty and old, but a good dirty and old."

In his 30s, Lescott says he's a Petty fan because "they are probably one of the best live acts going.... If heaven were to have a house band God would make it these guys. Just perfect."

Cousin power

The appointed hour is upon us, and all the lucky folks who got tickets, as well as some people hoping to score some outside, have descended on UF and the surrounding area, parking in every lot and lawn that the enterprising neighbors have thought to open up. In front of the O'Connell Center, in the box office line marked "Band and Press Will Call Only," are eight men and women wearing red Sadie Darnell campaign T-shirts.

"I grew up between here and Georgia. How can you not be a Tom Petty fan?" asks Sadie supporter Louise Grimm, "Like the fairy tales. You wanna meet Sadie?"

She looks toward the front of the line, pointing to a woman with short brown hair who's talking to the ticket people. Sadie Darnell gets her tickets, shakes a couple of hands, and walks down the line. She says that some supporters suggested that her Web site read "Law Enforcement Officer of the Year... and Tom Petty's cousin."

"But I said I should do it on my own," she says. "There is a connection, though. Tommy and I both think it's important for young people to know the importance of voting, to try to make the world a better place. In our generation, we thought of voting as a privilege."

So what does Cousin Sadie know about Tommy Petty that the world doesn't?

"He had an incredible sense of humor," she says. "And that most of the family doubted that he was gonna make it. He always said he was gonna be a famous rock 'n' roll musician. I doubted it, too. I was gonna be an airplane pilot, and that didn't happen."

Wow. It seems that for the family, just like everyone else, Tommy Petty was one more talented kid in the yearbook, just an ordinary guy who didn't seem to have any better shot at making it than anyone else. That is, until he did. And just like the rest of Gainesville, Sadie Darnell couldn't be more pleased that he's the one it happened to. After all, Cousin Tommy's in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and she could be sheriff.

"Isn't that funny?" she says. "Both us, living the dream. That's pretty cool."