Fifteen minutes back into my work routine, an art director stopped by and told me Gregg had yet to leave the building and was still on the 27th floor. I quickly printed off the spread for the Allman Brother's section I had designed for the book, grabbed the copy and once again dashed down the stairs. Walking quickly around the 27th floor, I saw no sign of him. As I passed rows of cubicles, I asked a few people if they had seen him and was about to give up when a copywriter told me Gregg had gone in the men's room. Realizing there are two exits to the restroom, I bolted through the door. After I burst through a second door, I was met with the sight of Gregg Allman standing at the urinal. Not wanting the day to get weirder, I walked as far as I could down the row of stalls and waited patiently. Didn't want the guy accusing me of being a men's room stalker. Standing there for what seemed like eternity I decided I would introduce myself when he went to wash his hands. He finally finished his business, but instead doin' the hand-washing routine, he went straight for the exit.
At that point I sped after him and caught up before he made it through the second door. We were standing in the foyer the size of a large closet. After introducing myself, I immediately handed him the color copy. Rather than a wet bottle of beer like thirty years before, Gregg was holding an 11x17 inch piece of paper. There prominently to the right in the layout was a large photo of him at his Hammond B3. In the picture Gregg was sporting a Dutch Boy haircut. To the right of the photo another picture featured his brother Duane with his giant mustache. Duane's eyes were closed and he seemed to be in another world with his Stratocaster. The photos were taken in July of 1968 at the Castaway in Ferguson. Above Duane, the club's familiar checkerboard ceiling tile was visible.
I explained to him that I had been working on a book about KSHE and the St. Louis music scene for the last seven years. I had talked to guys who met him way back in time such as Jan Marks and Joey Marshall. I then asked him, "Joey was a guitarist with The Acid-Sette. He told me when he first met you and Duane in 1967 at Pepe's a Go Gos in Gaslight Square in St. Louis, you all went back to his parent's house. At the time you and Duane were happy to eat bologna sandwiches. Do you remember much of those days?"
Gregg looked at me and spoke slowly in his gravely voice, "Yeah, those were some hard times," he said. "I remember selling half of my rights to "Melissa." I needed the money and never did get what I was supposed to," The question was all I could muster. Adrenaline and anxiety left my mind in a fog. He signed the color copy. I thanked him – and yes – I did shake his hand. I still wasn't sure if he remembered much from those days so long ago. I didn't have much time to think about it. Just like 30 years before, I had to get back to work.