Tuesday, October 18, 2005

Rockford Register Star's story about BULLET's biggest fan, Verne K. Smith

Ready to rock
Everyone loves Verne, a fixture of the Rockford music crowd

Verne K. Smith slips on a leather jacket given to him by the band Bullet as singer/guitarist Dalton Poff watches.
The band played at Smith's 59th birthday party, which was held Saturday night at Kryptonite in Rockford.

Verne K. Smith couldn't wait to show off his new pair of black shoe-boots Saturday night at his 59th birthday party. He was ready to dance all night at Kryptonite with women who asked him for the honor.

If you've been to a Rockford-area bar or festival in the past two decades, you've probably seen Verne move and groove in this repetitive fashion: His feet barely lift from the floor in marching-step foot movements. His bent right arm moves from one side to the other, often in step with his left leg. His head bobs, and he mostly looks down at his shoes, exposed by his "floodie" jeans.

"He's got the beat and his own style," said Beth Ann Beal, who sings with local bands like the Missing Links and Harlan Jefferson, and has danced with Verne too many times to count. Verne is a fixture on the local rock 'n' roll scene, and he especially digs the classic rock tunes that were familiar and important to him when he was younger. He's a single guy of limited means. A free spirit. Friendly and harmless.

He speaks in a monotone, recitation-like style. Sometimes he gets mixed up about the facts about his life, like where's he's been and what he's done. Little, if none, of that matters to those who know him.

Verne was named "the biggest music fan of all time" by the Rockford Area Music Industry in 2001. Two years later, he was the subject of a video documentary produced by two college students for the Rock River Film Festival in Rockford. He is watched over by those who not only are concerned about his well-being but who want to protect the guy who gives them good vibes.

One of those "caretakers" is Curtis Washburn, a retired lawyer who promised Verne's mother before she died in the 1980s that he'd look after her son. He ordered those shoe-boots for Verne over the Internet. Sears does not stock them anymore, which is a problem since Verne insists on wearing the same style. He has to be comfortable: He takes city buses to buffet-style restaurants but otherwise walks miles on end.

"You don't always do everything right in your life; how can you say 'no' to the guy?" Washburn said, explaining why he promised to keep an eye out for Verne. He picked up the Baskin-Robbins butter pecan and black walnut ice cream cake that Verne served on paper plates to his guests.

Footwear wasn't the only thing new part of Verne's birthday outfit.

Chris Wachowiak, owner of downtown Rockford nightclub Kryptonite, had a few dozen white T-shirts printed with Verne's picture (in his favorite thumbs-up pose) along with his favorite band, Bullet. The Rockford three-piece band, known for playing classic rock you can dance to, was lined up for the celebration, too. Wachowiak, Bullet and Miller Lite split the cost of the shirts.

Verne is a bit like the character Dustin Hoffman plays in the 1988 movie "Rain Man." He may not count toothpicks, but the man knows his rock 'n' roll. Verne can tell you what bands played at the Woodstock music festival he attended in 1969 -- and in what order. He is a barometer of the music scene. If Verne is at your club, the band is happening. "He's a good omen," Wachowiak said.

About 120 people attended Verne's party, paying a $3 cover. While some have known him or known of him for decades, others came to know him Saturday night as he danced to song after song, including his favorite, Ted Nugent's "Cat Scratch Fever."

Members of Bullet weren't about to be outdone at the bash, making sure they'd give something special to the man who is their best billboard. Verne often wears a black T-shirt with the band's name, including at the Velvet Revolver concert April 29 at the Metro Centre and at the Great White show Friday at Elixur. The band presented its gift to Verne on stage: a slightly used, black-and-tan fringed leather jacket from Bobby's on Broadway. It looks kind of like the one Verne used to wear a decade or so ago when the now-disbanded "Ript" was his favorite local group.

Verne usually gets rides home from someone who knows him after he's been to a rock show. He hasn't driven a car in a decade or more. He often hitches a ride with neighbor Dalton Poff, lead guitarist and vocalist for Bullet, when Bullet plays out of town.

Verne hasn't worked in years. He said he's been employed at foundries and a furniture factory. Nor has he taken up with another girlfriend. Verne said his last relationship ended years ago when the woman's mother put up roadblocks.

A hair stylist regularly curls and styles his brown hair.

A one-bedroom apartment in Rockford is Verne's home, when you can find him there. He travels around town by bus or on foot to pick up his money, run errands and eat at restaurants. He visits with strangers and acquaintances along the way.

His closets are stuffed with dozens of T-shirts from national and local bands he's seen, including Jimi Hendrix, Deep Purple, Great White and Eric Clapton, as well as Rockford's Agent Zero.

His shelves are stacked with vinyl. He plays albums of bands he remembers from his youth on an old stereo somebody gave him.

He can't remember when he moved into his apartment, but he'll never forget the date he was born: May 8, 1946. Verne said he moved to Rockford after emigrating from Hungary and living in Michigan as a teen.

He has a brother, but they don't get along. Verne didn't like his brother's decision to have their mother live in a nursing home.

The Arc of Winnebago, Boone and Ogle Counties helps Verne handle his Social Security disability income.

Terra Henry of Rockford, a sales assistant, brought Verne a gift to his party, something she didn't think he'd be able to afford himself: a Black Ice cologne set for $21. Her boyfriend is in a band, and she often sees Verne at rock clubs. "He always kisses my hand, like a gentlemen," she said.

Verne may not have a lot of money, but he repays loans from friends. For example, one day Bullet was supposed to play at a Belvidere bar. The band had canceled because it was snowing, but Verne didn't know that and had a friend drive him there. The bar owner gave him $20 to get a ride back to Rockford. Days later, Verne returned the money.

Bar owners often let Verne in to see bands without paying a cover charge. Sometimes, they'll buy him his favorite drink: Johnny Walker Red on the rocks.

On Saturday, Verne encouraged everyone to drink and have a good time at his party when given the mike to say a few words onstage.

"Have some beer and shots," he said, smiling with his gap-toothed grin. "I'm proud of you people. Get out and support this rock 'n' roll.

"Dance and enjoy, have a good time tonight. This is the best birthday party I have ever had. And happy birthday to me."

Jackie Anderson of Machesney Park and her twin sister Joni Meichtry of Rockton couldn't resist asking Verne to dance after he gave them some cake. They'd never seen him before and went to Kryptonite to celebrate their 42nd birthdays. "Our husbands don't dance, and Verne does," Meichtry said.

Kelly Witt of Rockford, who works in customer service, has seen Verne walking by her place of employment. "He's nice and polite," she said. Witt and her husband went to Kryptonite for a few drinks and learned it was his party.

"He's one of those people who lives life every day," she said. "It's cool."

Verne's take on his popularity: "I am a good person to everybody. This is why they all know me and like me."

"Geo's Night Out" columnist Georgette Braun asked Verne K. Smith, who wears jeans that end at his ankles, if he liked her lower-than-heel-length jeans. He paused. "That is up to you. I don't lead your life, and you don't lead mine." Well said.

About Verne K. Smith