Articles By Members

HOW I FOUND THE NORTHERN VIRGINIA SHAG CLUB

My Lucky Number

Donna Harrington

It was springtime, 1993.  I was just beginning to get my feet wet in the world of the newly single; it was a scary proposition.  Fortunately, I had the social skills of my wonderful friend and the best social director anyone could possibly wish to know, Pauline Easby-Smith, to ease me into this unknown scene.

Pauline wanted to share with me, and with anyone whom she could interest, this fantastic “grown-up” beach party she had discovered in Myrtle Beach, SC.  I signed on for my first road trip with her; destination SOS Spring Safari.

Our lodgings were at the quaint Bel-Aire Motel (recently replaced by a high-rise) on Ocean Drive, right in the midst of the action.  Pauline assured me it was of paramount importance to be able to walk to the clubs without the worry of parking the car.  Later, after sampling pitchers of White Russians and Long Island Iced Tea, I realized it as the walking home, sans automobile, which was ultimately more important!

Having grown up primarily in the Northeast where the dance style was Jitterbug or East Coast Swing, I had never seen anyone dance the Carolina Shag and had only heard a little beach music from Pauline’s tape deck.  I wanted to check it out.  So, on to the main event, we headed for Happy Hour at Duck’s.  Approaching the entrance, I happened to look above the doors and saw that Duck’s address was 229 Main Street.  This was obviously a super good omen of some sort.  Would you believe that 229 is my lucky number?  Truly, it is (long story) and I knew at that moment something especially wonderful was in store for me on the other side of those dark glass doors.

Once inside:  I was captivated, mesmerized, enthralled – all of it – the dance, the music, the people – TOTAL MAGIC.  No other words can suffice.

The spell was broken only when we had to leave the Strand and head home, leaving this wondrous Shag world behind.  But it had already found a place inside my heart and soul (the feet were slow to follow!).  I wanted to become a disciple of the Shag to all these other unknowing Northerners, one of whom I had been only a week before.  How was I going to be able to accomplish this?

Well, it didn’t take long for the answer to present itself.  One full week of recuperation later (and, believe me, it took at least that long to recover), Pauline heard a radio ad for Carolina Shag lessons at Blackie’s in Springfield, our Country dancing headquarters.  This was too good to be believed!!!

But true it was.  On an evening in early May 1993, on the dance floor at Blackie’s, in front of our disbelieving eyes we saw Rick, Liz, Dee, Larry, Keith, Sherri, Nick and Debbie doing the Carolina Shag – right here in N. Virginia!  And so it began…

My lucky number had never let me down.  But it had also never before bestowed on me riches such as this.  Friendship, joy, love, memories, FUN - and music and dance to thrill my spirit for a lifetime.

Moral of the story – never turn down a road trip, especially when Pauline is driving!

When I Became a Teenager All Over Again

By Larry Camp

 I was driving around town one summer weekend in 1993 when I heard on the radio that a shag club was meeting at Blackie’s on Tuesday nights.  So I went the following week and found a group of people talking about forming a shag club.  I believe Liz and Rick Hendrix were demonstrating the shag dance to the people there.  I watched and saw with amazement that this was the same dance I had learned when I was a teenager in Atlanta!  I was about 15 years old and learned one afternoon the basic steps from a girl whose name has long since been forgotten.  But I never forgot those basic steps.  In fact, I have incorporated those steps in all of the dancing I have done since then.

Over the next few weeks we continued to meet at Blackie’s and at some point in time (I don’t remember when) we decided we needed to get organized and that we needed to collect dues.  The payment was set at $15, and I think Dave Rapson was informally selected as the Treasurer.  Sometime toward the end of the year Blackie’s threw us out and we started meeting at the Juke Box Cafe in Springfield.  This is where we were dancing when the club was officially formed in February 1994.

The charter meeting was held at Dee Bassett’s house on February 27, 1994, and we continued to organize for the rest of the year.  I believe all 15 members of our fledgling shag club were there.  Dee Bassett was elected President, Debbie Nichols Vice President, Liz Kestler Secretary, and Dave Rapson as Treasurer.  The three board members, Janis Grimes, Gary Salpini, and I were elected later.

However, my first real inclination of what I had gotten into was when I went to my first Virginia Beach Bash.  There I heard for the first time since I was a teenager all the songs from my past.  It brought back so many memories that I couldn’t get enough.  I wanted to dance every dance.  I think I wore Patricia Parrott out (NEVER!!!) asking her to dance with me so many times.

And then I discovered Myrtle Beach!

The Juke Box Cafe

By Howard Christie

On a hot summer evening in 1993, I dropped into the old Juke Box for a cool beer.  There were some leaflets on the tables announcing that a shag club was being formed.  I hung around to check it out, and joined.

I wasn’t totally ignorant of shag, but hadn’t even heard the word mentioned in 32 years.  Back in 1959-1960 I was dancing swing.  One of the girls I danced with started adding some fancy footwork.  She said it was shag.  There was a little whisper in her voice as if it were a secret. 

Dee and Larry did the bulk of the teaching at the Juke Box.  It was rough going at first, so I bought a Charlie and Jackie tape to get an added dimension.  That is when I fell in love with Shag.  You can’t watch Charlie and Jackie dance without knowing this is something special.  It has been seven years now, and I don’t really want to learn any more steps, but I will always remember cool beers and hot summer nights with the best of people.  That’s shagging.

I found you guys at the 1998 Fall Shag Migration in Myrtle Beach.  There for a week’s vacation with a girlfriend from Richmond, we headed to the beach at 2nd & Main St. and parked the car at the O.D. Pavilion.  Seeing Main Street blocked off, my friend said, “Oh, look, there must be a craft show or something going on – let’s go look.”  What we walked up to was Monday Madness.  I took on