by John Megill, Mount Holly, NJ

The summer of 1972 I delivered orders for a Chicken Holiday in Neptune, NJ run by my friend Kenny. Every once in a while a call would come in from a customer that got Kenny very excited. This guy would sing “Chicken Harry” jingles over the phone when he ordered. Harry was the owner of the Chicken Holiday. “Bruce is coming!” he’d say, “He’s gonna be great!”

So I’d chill out until my next delivery was ready to see this soon-to-be-great Bruce. In a little while this scruffy guy in a dirty T-shirt would show up to get his chicken. “This guy is gonna be great?” I’d say, “Looks like just another loser from Asbury to me.”

In the fall I went back to school and I didn’t think much about Bruce or “Chicken Harry’s”. Kenny and I were close and I saw him every time I was able to get home. On a damp cold day in January 1973 Kenny called to let me know he was coming the 90 miles to Bethlehem, PA to see me. He said he had something important to show me.

A couple of hours later he was at my door. He rode out on his motorcycle in thirty-degree weather. Without much of a greeting he pulled an 8-track tape from his coat; it was too bulky for his pocket, and he played it on the house stereo. I loved it. “I told you he’d be great” was about all Kenny said before he stuck “Greetings from Asbury Park, NJ” back in his coat, jumped back on his bike and rode back to Neptune.