-GRAVE ROBBERS FROM OUTER SPACE
– by –
Mike IX Williams

-GRAVE ROBBERS FROM OUTER SPACE-

Arrested with The MISFITS in New Orleans —10/17/1982
by Mike IX Williams – EYEHATEGOD

Sonovabitch, the late 70’s early 80’s were the shit, the glory days of Punk, Rock-N-Roll & Hardcore, what a time to have lived through. It’s something I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world. There will never be another period like that, fresh new sounds & bands busting out from everywhere, in all corners of the Earth. We, the youth, took the lead, learned those three chords and changed life as we know it. One of my favorites outfits that began in those salad days are the fantastic Misfits. Combining the best elements of B-grade horror movies with catchy toe-tapping punk rock elevated these New Jersey ghouls to the very top of the underground scene. But you know that already. What you don’t know is that I was a fifteen year old runaway from the boy’s home that I was placed in at the time, when the Misfits toured the United States a little while after the ‘Walk Among Us’ record was released. That album never left my turntable from the first day I stole it.

Me and my friend Hatchboy (R.I.P.) and his brother packed up and drove down to Houston,Texas to see them the day before their show in New Orleans, as we would do time and time again for bands like Minor Threat, Black Flag, D.O.A., Circle Jerks, M.D.C., the Dicks and so on and on. We got to a local club called The Island early that day and saw the red passenger van with the Spiderman face logo on the side and knew that it was the mode of transportation for the infamous walking dead hate breeders of the East Coast. We hung out bullshitting with them and quickly became friends and realized how down to earth and cool these Yankee cats were. Imposing? Yes, being upwards of 6 ft tall (well, except for Glenn and Robo) sportin’ the trademark Devilocks and assorted skull emblems and spikes (dressed like this all before the fucking show!) and so happy to hang out and meet their fans. They actually seemed more excited than we were at the fact that we’d drove 6 hours from N’awlins to see them. The opening band for this tour was Maumee, Ohio’s own Necros, who were characters in their own right with a great sense of humor. We were happy as pigs in shit, these were two groups we listened to religiously, day in day out and being the kids we were back in the day we could barely contain ourselves! A spark in the air in those days just brought like minded people together with the common bond that something brand new and life affirming was happening at that very moment. It was still dangerous back then to look like a punk rocker and be different, but we were still outcasts then in that scene. The fact that we wore Venom patches and Motorhead jackets pissed off the jaded old punkers and metal heads alike. It wasn’t like today’s watered down garbage where it’s considered fashionable, trendy & cool to have a mohawk or dyed hair. We fought for you little fuckers. We took the kicks and punches and braved the jocks and preppies that told us we were full of crap. We were passionate about this form of music and expression, and still are today.
Read the rest of this sick story after the jump!

So anyway, of course the gig ruled; the Necros covered a Misfits song and vice-versa (‘Horror Business’ and ‘IQ 32’ respectfully) Glenn told the entire audience that they should be down front “like these guys” referring & pointing to us, the New Orleans crew. After the show, we helped them load their massive Crimson Ghost amps and all their equipment and then agreed to follow each other back to NOLA. Watching the backwoods folks stare at us all in a roadside diner and later on the road, seeing the two touring band vehicles having ketchup fights back and forth on the highway were added attractions to a usually boring interstate ride. We left the bands in a suburb of our fair city with an ex-soldier of fortune sniper named Skyy, who cooked them some down home Italian food to make them all feel right comfortable. The next night was the home-town show. This local show was even better than the previous night’s affairs, if that’s even possible, with the boys doing almost everything they knew off of the Beware e.p., Walk Among Us and the Halloween and Horror Business 7”s. The locals here were insanely wild with constant stage diving and massive crowd back-up vocals. After the show a slew of crazy shit happened like these two nasty ass strippers from Atlanta; Poison and Venom, doing a live sex show backstage, which pissed off Doyle, as he had, I believe, just gotten married or something, but that’s another story…

When everybody finally got organized, we took off for the local cemeteries. You see, the graveyards down here in Louisiana are mostly above ground mausoleum type structures because of the swampy land and the fact we are way below sea level. They are built in such a way that so that the bodies and coffins don’t wash away in the flood waters. This is unique to our fair city, so being the tourists they were, Glenn and Jerry had expressed much curiosity about this and even wanted to see the voodoo queen Marie Laveau’s tomb. This was a very scary proposition as the cemeteries we went to visit were positioned not but a couple hundred yards from some very crime-ridden housing projects. So, around 2 or so in the morning, about thirty-something of us from the show, including the misplaced Misfits, piled out and scattered around the St. Louis Cemeteries to check out the sights and the out-of-towners were rightly amazed. A lot of the poor souls were buried there in the early 1800’s, so the sites are very decayed and have been victims of much theft and vandalism. Lots of open tombs and if you are into this sort of thing it is a beautiful sight to see. After probably an hour or so of this, the spectacle of a large group of elaborately dressed punk rockers (The Misfits were still wearing their stage gear and make-up, etc…) took a toll and the black & white panda prowler cars arrived, lights flashing and asshole cop attitudes blazing. This was 1982, mind you, and anyone outside of our scene would obviously find this situation mighty strange. Of course, they started their assumptions immediately: We were robbing graves, we were Satan worshipers and all of the above. They lined us up along the street and interrogated in the most fucked-up way that only New Orleans policemen can pull off (believe me, this is the South, they’re very original in their brutality). Me and two of my friends were singled out after they found out that we were juveniles and were way under the age of eighteen. One of us, a female, had a mohawk haircut, so they picked on her more than the rest, asking her “What are you? You a boy?” Obviously, she was not. She remained silent, so the prick in the blue uniform smashes her face and nose with his department issued flashlight, right next to me, about six inches to my right side. I felt helpless because if I spoke up, they would’ve done the same to me. We were searched, with the cops taking everything from our pockets. In my case, just some phone numbers, which they crumpled and threw into the gutter. I could see Glenn, Robo, Doyle, & Jerry side by side down the street a bit, being questioned as to why, what, where, and when. They had a gig the next night in Florida (I think), so they were all tripping out that they wouldn’t be out of jail in time. The entire lot of us were hauled to the station and locked up. A few of our people had escaped the arrest minutes before the cops saw them, so the wheels were already turning to bail us all out.

The next day, the local newspaper featured the article, “Punk Rock Musicians Arrested in Cemetery.” It went on to say that three juveniles were among the group, wearing shirts depicting skeletons (my Necros shirt and my friend’s Bad Brains one). The Misfits got bailed out early the next day and skipped their court date in order to head to the next show. They had luckily salvaged their web slingin’ vehicle, as the pigs, after searching it, had left it unlocked with the doors wide open in one of the worst neighborhoods in town. I’m not sure how their instruments fared. Turns out it trespassing was just a misdemeanor so they were asked to return at a later date to pay some fines, and that was the worst of the aftermath.

I never went back to court so I assume the minor charges were dropped. The Misfits came back on their next tour, right before the release of the “Wolfs Blood/Earth A.D.” record and even played us the rough mixes from that record then. It was clearly almost the end of an era for them though as they were all traveling separately, with the two brothers flying to gigs, while Robo and Glen rode in the equipment truck. Glen had even voiced his displeasure to us about the new, faster material.

Since that irreplaceable and fascinating time of my life, I’ve seen the Danzig band and Samhain, as well as the reformed Misfits numerous times, who were really good and all for what it’s worth, but in all honesty, there’s no way, no how, even a small minute possibility that that time of our lives could be recreated. That level of ferocity, excitement and meaningfulness will remain unmatched forever….

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