I remember the date well. June 27, 1974. I was fresh out of college and had moved back home to Pensacola into an old brick and wood building, probably built around the turn of the century. Its exterior was faded red brick, the inside old wood with the faded scent of mold and memories and peeling paint. I loved that house. My roommates were fellow musicians and disc jockeys, so the place was always full of beer, women, music, pot and cockroaches. A lot of the latter.