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Atlanta Gazette Nov. 12, 1978 vol. 5 # 11, pg. 8

For, the people who spent most of their time on the streets of downtown Atlanta during 1967-68, there is one area that stands out more than any of the crash pads and clubs that were meeting places for the then-growing counter-culture. The corner of Peachtree and 14th streets, location of the Catacombs, is the place most remembered when thoughts of the Summer of Love flash through the mind.

The Catacombs was a small club that many consider the birthplace of the Atlanta hippie movement. And lust as the club grew quickly out of that scene. It died as quickly,  Serving as an omen of what would happen to the movement itself. For the past 10 years, its doors have been closed. with thoughts of It just memories to those who spent night after night in the crowded, incense-filled room. All that is about to change, however as December 31 marks the reopening of the Catacombs and a nostalgic trip back in time for many who made of their life.

Early in 1967. David Braden. “Mother David” to members of Atlanta’s growing counter-culture. owned the illien Gallery at the Corner of Peachtree and 14th streets. To accommodate the need for a gathering place of Atlanta’s artists and poets, he opened the basement as a coffeehouse, nee the Catacombs. With the growing influx of flower children and psychedelic art. however, poetry readings gave way to psychedelic bands and the Catacombs soon became the manifestation it is in most people’s memories today.

“It was musty, dank. dark, dirty and very exciting,” remembers one person who wishes to remain anonymous. “I had just left home and was out on the streets. It was fascinating. There were hundreds of people hanging out in the front and in the back parking lot. You never saw that in Atlanta before the Catacombs.”

When the scene began to grow, so did the music being made there. The Bag. the Celestial Voluptuous Banana, the Hampton Grease Band and Ellen Mclllwaine were regulars on the tiny stage.

“We were the second band to play the Catacombs.” recalls Michael Brown, then bass player for the Bag “Everybody from 14-year-old runaways to bikers were hanging out down there. We played Beatles and Byrds material. Frank Hughes. who had the Electric Collage light Show, did all the psychedelic lighting on the wall behind the stage. Our big thing was to play Hendrix’s “Purple Haze” and fill the place up with purple smoke. The things that I remember most from the whole time are the things that hit my senses: the smell of the incense, the sound of jewelry tinkling.”

The smell of Incense was the first thing Darryl Rhoades noticed about the Catacombs, also. His first encounter with the coffeehouse was as a reporter for his high school newspaper.

“I was very impressionable about it all and thought the ‘vibes’ were real good. so I started hanging out down there. I was in a band (The Celestial Voluptuous Banana) and tried to get gigs down there. When we started playing there these plastic dudes and chicks from Georgia Tech would ask me. ‘Hey cat! Do you know if I can score?’ So people would sell them fake drugs—like oregano for marijuana—and they’d get off on it and come back for more.”

The Catacombs was also one of the first places for Atlanta’s legendary Hampton Grease Band to play. While most bands filled the room with psychedelic sounds of Jimi Hendrix. Cream and the Doors, the Grease band would come onstage and blast old blues songs at the crowd.

“That was at a time when we used to tear stuff up.” recalls Grease Band guitarist Glenn Phillips. “Hampton smashed a guitar through the ceiling one night and another night we pulled a water pipe out of the ceiling and water went all over the place. Before the 12th Gate, that was the best place to play.”

While most musicians who played the Catacombs have good memories. one. who asked to remain nameless. was shocked just at the mention of the place.

“The Catacombs—the pits.” he exclaimed’. “I had to quit going there because my skin would break out all over. it was a pretty confusing time. The audience didn’t like anybody and there were all these crazy hicks from McDonough pouring in there. It was pretty frightening.”

One idea they all agree on—which may have led to its closing—was the direction the club began !o take. Originally a place where a large group of friends hung out together and lived within a four block radius of the place, it began to be overrun by a wide variety of people, many destructive and violent. A gradual change began to occur and one could feel the scene sour. The family atmosphere began to deteriorate-

A major factor in the beginning of the end was the arrest of Mother David.  According to many, he was framed for allegedly selling drugs to a minor, getting him a five-year sentence in prison. Many people maintain that he was not locked up because of drug dealings, but because he was about to expose new Information on the assassination of John F Kennedy.

According to legend. Mother David came into possession of documents supporting Dallas District Attorney Jim Garrison’s prosecution of Clay Shaw on conspiracy charges in connection with the Kennedy shooting. Mother David supposedly got the papers from someone who picked up a briefcase belonging to a federal agent who was shot in the Catacombs parking lot one night. Mother David bought a Harris- Seybold-Potter Co, offset printer to reproduce the documents. Coincidently—or purposely according to legend—Mother David was arrested and jailed on the drug charge before he was able to raise the money to convert the World War II surplus map-making machine into a press.

The club was then taken over by a man who ran the club at a gross of what he claimed to be $100.000 on coffee, cokes and cheese plates. Much of the money was used to get people out of jail and help reestablish others.

In late ’68 the Catacombs property. owned by Howard Massell. was purchased by Selig Realtors. Selig decided the club was not befitting of their image, claimed the basement lease between Massell and the leasee invalid, and closed a chapter in Atlanta history.

Now. a decade later. Mother David, after a brief visit to Atlanta following his release from prison, has completely vanished. The musicians that once played the small stage have furthered their careers. Michael Brown has formed the Para Band with its single getting strong airplay. Darryl Rhoades. founder of the successful Hahavishunu Orchestra. is grouping together a new band. The Hampton Grease Band, after releasing their double record debut, Music to Eat, split up, with Glenn Phillips releasing two albums in Europe and Bruce Hampton  recently releasing an album. Ellen McIllwaine, after moving from city to city, came back to Atlanta with four records to her credit,

The Catacombs’ lease has been taken up by Fred Holloway. and his plans are to reopen the club New Year’s Eve.

A recent visit to the Catacombs revealed that the room has been virtually untouched since the doors were locked 10 years ago. Holloway. In his efforts to reopen the club, has had the original psychedelic wall paintings traced over and repainted. Many of the paintings were repaired by the original artists. Though the City Health Dept. has ordered the walls to be sandblasted so chipping and peeling paint will not fall in food or drink. Holloway is covering the artwork with glass and wooden frames to preserve the authenticity.

Holloway’s plans to reopen the basement club do not come as a move to go into competition with Rose’s Cantina or the Downtown Cafe but to bring a neighborhood bar with a nostalgic past to the rapidly reconstructing 10th-l4th Street “Strip” of Peachtree.

“I’ve been trying to get this building for five years.” he said. “and now that I’ve got it, I want everybody who used to frequent it in the Sixties to experience what they can of it once again.”

According to the once long-haired Holloway. who. ironically, owns For Heads Only. the hair-cutting room on the street level of the building, many of the lawyers and young businessmen working across the street in Colony Square were once the long-hairs who breathed the incense in his basement during their youth.

“They’ve all told me they will support the club, if just to be able to have the bartender call them by name.”

—Tony Paris