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DISCLAIMER: The following is an excerpt (in draft form) from the upcoming book, tentatively titled "1,596 Ticket Stubs", from Fueler & Assistant EFI Editor, Michelle Hite. No portion of these excerpts can be reproduced in any format without the written permission from Michelle Hite. ©
1980 AC/DC
August 6 @ Norfolk, VA (Norfolk Scope) - Nantucket opened
August 6 — Set List:
“If I hear Funky Town or “Fig” Newton’s Magic one more time, I’m gonna puke. Can’t you find a better station on the radio, Deuce? What did you tell Auntie Jane? Grandma thinks I’m spending the night over at Terry’s so we can finish our geometry project. I know, don’t give me that look..." “Do you think Angus is cute? Will we be close enough to really see him? Do you think Bon actually choked on his own puke? God, that’s awful. It was just in February, right? I can’t believe they’ve finished an album so fast after losing the singer. Can you imagine how hard...What’s the new singer’s name?” I really cannot remember ever being as excited or anxious for a concert. I was 14 - the summer before sophomore year - when I learned that sound had feel. “Damn, Shell, be still, will ya,” Deuce was trying to drive the 350-plus miles from Craigsville, Va., to Norfolk “in peace.” And “be still” is a Southern colloquialism for “shut up!” Since I had to lie to Grandma about my whereabouts, Deuce also had to lie to her mom, my aunt. I lived with Grandma, and Auntie Jane and seven of my cousins lived a few blocks away. Deuce wasn’t accustomed to sneaking around, because Auntie Jane was a little more lenient than Grandma. All my cousins thought I had it great cause I lived at Grandma’s house, but they got to do cool stuff after school and go on dates without having to lie about it. I wouldn’t even have known who AC/DC was if I didn’t rifle through my older cousins’ albums and cassette tapes. I think Deuce understood, though. She was always asking me to go do cool stuff like this - sneaking out on a school night to see AC/DC. Auntie Jane and Grandma, both, would have had multiple coronaries if they knew we were on the road to see AC/DC (350 miles away) on a Thursday night. “OK, if you don’t shut up, I’m never gonna bring you by yourself, again.” Cousin Deuce was 20 and, and in my 14-year-old existence, very persuasive. But, she was also cool personified. “So, have you heard this Nantucket band before, cuz?” I couldn’t help myself from yammering on. Normally, I was the quiet cousin sitting in the back of the station wagon listening to all my cool older cousins talk about whatever band we were headed to see. But, this time, I had Deuce all to myself. The questions just poured from my soul. AC/DC, Hell yea! ‘Just being in the car on the way to see AC/DC made me cool, too,’ I thought. “Nantucket is nothing like AC/DC,” Deuce said, adjusting the rear-view mirror, as if to say shut up, again. She was right. It was torture sitting through Nantucket - less because of their musicianship and sound and more because we had heard the new Back in Black album and could not wait to hear it live. After what seemed like hours, the Scope’s house lights went down, and everyone screamed. I never had understood this phenomena. ‘Shut up and listen, you idiots,’ I thought to myself. Somewhere the rock gods were paying attention to my plea. The lights stayed black for what seemed eternity, then a small spotlight and this haunting, hair-on-the-back-of-your-neck - was that a church bell? And again; and again. And guitars. “Cuz, THANK YOU!” I knew in my gut this was going to be the best show I’d ever seen. Deuce screamed, “What the hell is Angus wearing?” I didn’t care. The man is gnarly on the guitar. Man, this new guy can sing! But, what is Angus wearing? Some kind of school uniform? ‘He must have lost a bet,’ I thought.
 Angus Young in Roanoke, VA (August 7, 1980) C’mon, c’mon, Back in Black. I couldn’t wait to hear that song live. It may be nostalgia, hard-rock allegiance, loyalty to one of the most hard-ass, blues-rocking, hard-working bands of all time, but I genuinely remember the beating of my heart while hearing Back in Black live. I just knew in my heart that this was going to be an enduring anthem. I know; I know. No 14-year-old can predict anything like that (19 million albums later - so, bite me). Hearing Back in Black live for the first time stands out in my 1,600-plus concert experiences. I could feel AC/DC’s love for Bon, grieving for Bon, loyalty to their fans, hard-rocking through sweat and tears, embracing of Brian, guitar-god-dom - all wrapped into one song - one moment. Hearing Back in Black for the first time on an album was memorable, but hearing it for the first time live was an experience. I remember thinking ‘is the Scope rocking?’ No, literally, it felt like the building was shaking. Brian Johnson fit right in. He was hell-yea, hard rocker, in your face, up-yours if you hate me - but he also gave tribute to Bon. Hella cool. Brian talked about the loss of “brother Bon” after singing Back in Black. The crowd went nuts, and during the next song, Bad Boy Boogie, Angus jumped on Brian’s back. Neither Angus nor Brian missed a beat! These guys friggin’ rock. Shoot to Thrill was one of my personal favorites from the album. I already liked the song before I got to the show, but seeing Angus do his famous strut for the first time was beyond cool. I got separated from Deuce right after the show ended, and after a brief panic attack, I remember telling this dude who kept “kneeing” me in the back throughout the show; “I wish they had played Rock-n-Roll Ain’t Noise Pollution.” Yes, I was 14 and naïve. I really did think it was his knee. I wasn’t thinking about the physicality of it all. “Are you bitching about that performance,” he screamed at me, while grabbing my hair and pulling me close. “No, I just like that song, dill-weed. Do you even know what’s on the new album, fuck-face? Let me go.” “Oh, burn,” yelled his buddy. Thank God, Deuce showed up just in time. I had no idea what a sexual overtone was, much less a mixed message. “She’s only 14 jack-ass,” Deuce said, grabbing my elbow, pulling me away and punching this jerk all in one effort. “Damn it, Shell; you’ve got to be more careful.” “What?” “Never mind,” let’s pee and get out of here. “But Deuce, you heard Brian: ‘See you fucking blokes in Roanoke tomorrow!’ We’ve just gotta go.” “No tickets, dill-weed. How are we going to get there? Mom needs her car back tomorrow.” “C’mon Deuce, pleeeeeease!” I guess she didn’t chastise me for the 14-year-old uncool whine, because she was thinking the same thing. ‘How are we going to get to Roanoke tomorrow night? And, how are we going to score tickets?’
 "Back in Black" flyer from a record store in Richmond, VA Michelle stole (ahem, borrowed) it “I said, let’s go,” Deuce urged. “Maybe Gary will take us. We’ve gotta get out of here.” I didn’t realize at the time that Deuce was getting us out of a dangerous situation. I had paid no attention to the fact that we were the only two females within the vicinity of our car, with thousands of hyped-up young men. Some were getting really rowdy, lewd and nasty. Thank God, for Deuce’s maturity. We got to Auntie Jane’s house around 5:30 a.m. after a few pee stops and a way-too-early breakfast of junk food from the BP station. “Can we wake Gary up and ask if he’ll take us to Roanoke?” - the uncool 14-year-old high on rock vibes. “It’s 5:30, dumb-ass; hit the couch. We’ll ask in the morning.” But there was no sleeping that night. I wondered all morning if AC/DC would do the exact same show. ‘Would they sing Rock-n-Roll Ain’t Noise Pollution?’ By 9 a.m. I was waking cousin Gary and begging him to take us to Roanoke that night. “Does Grandma know where you are?” he asked as he wiped the sleep from his eyes. “C’mon, cuz.” I pleaded. “Deal with Grandma later.” “OK, describe last night’s concert in one word.” “Muscular,” I growled in my new found coolness. “Damn, lil’ cuz, you wanna work at Rolling Stone or something?” my fresh home from the Marines cousin asked, as he put me in the usual head-lock. I didn’t realize he was complimenting me at the time. It’s hard to think in a Marine’s headlock - even a playful, loving Marine’s fake “Nature Boy” headlock. But, nothing else mattered. I knew from the grin on his face that we’d be on the way to Roanoke soon. So, I had to start coming up with an excuse to “stay at Terry’s house for another night, after school.” Grandma would never let me skip school, even on a Friday, and go to a concert in Roanoke (120-plus miles away) even with my 25-year-old Marine cousin at the wheel. But I did. Friday, Aug. 7, 1980, was an exceptional day... (more coming in the book folks!) And, each chapter ends with a “rock life-lesson.” Rock Life-Lesson: AC/DC turned gut-wrenching personal loss and a career-threatening negative into rebirth. Yes, several bands have survived losing a key member, but Back in Black is landmark. Even if you don’t like AC/DC’s cheese factor or its blues-base, Back in Black is a hard-rock climax.
Watching AC/DC turn their loss into a positive was a life lesson that helped me get through one of the blackest days of my life - Sept. 27, 1986 - when for only the second time in my life, I lost someone whom I truly loved. But, that’s another ticket stub - another chapter...
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