Richard, Bob, Chuck and Don at Kitten’s Korner

The Go-Go Club of Appalachia

By Sean Smith and Don Tickle

The holidays are a great time in general to catch up with friends, but I had a particularly good reason one afternoon to rendezvous with Don.

He mentioned to my wife that he had a funny story to share, and I wondered what a 40-year veteran of the furniture industry had that would pique my salacious sense of humor.

I once owned a strip club for only three weeks. Don says after a sip of Highland Ale.

He actually says “Go-Go club,” but what I hear is strip club and “three weeks,” to which I respond:

“You have my attention.”

In 1964 Don worked part-time for an auction group in Danville, Virginia. One of his clients was Jerry Cole, a Watauga County real estate broker for whom he auctioned subdivided lots.

Knowing Don was looking for investment properties, Jerry informed him of an abandoned elementary school the local board wanted to unload. The two of them bought it together.

Don’s brother Bob happened to be working on his Masters degree at Appalachian State University, and his brother Richard was an All-American who had become the Mountaineer’s assistant football coach. Working with Richard was team manager, bus driver, and part-time student, Chuck Derrick.

“Chuck could do just about anything,” says Don, “and because of that, he settled on nothing in particular.”

With a Kennedy-like sweep of hair, Chuck was a charismatic lothario reminiscent of Otter Stratton in the film Animal House.

He had flunked out Appalachian, spent four years in the Navy, and then returned to Boone. And, like the John Belushi character in the same movie, Chuck had now been a student for seven years.

Don, Bob, Richard, and Chuck convened socially on a regular basis and always had a large time. One of those occasions was at Kitten’s Corner on Peachtree Street in Atlanta. The music of Roosevelt Williams and the Tymes accompanied the sharp-dressed lads as they ogled scantily-clad women sporting ornately painted eyes…and tails.

A few weeks later, the boys gathered at Bob’s place in Boone. Don bemoaned the fact that he had no idea what to do with his new investment property. Then Chuck made a declaration.

“I know what we can do; we can make it into something like Kitten’s Korner.”

Newly-married, university-employed Richard immediately excused himself from the

conversation. Don and Bob decided that a brown-bag establishment was exactly what the dry county of Watauga needed.

“Well then Chuck,” said Don, “you’re gonna have to be the one to set it up.”

Chuck had no problem with t turning an elementary school into a Go-Go club.

“Chuck was the obvious choice,” reflects Don. He knew everyone. Everyone loved him….and he had a plenty of girlfriends.”

That explains where the dancers came from.

For the sake of creating a lusty ambiance—and perhaps some misconstrued measure of security for the dancers—Chuck built two ornamental cages in which the girls were to cavort seductively.

He placed the cages up on the little wooden stage of the large, open space that served as the gym, cafeteria, and auditorium of the school. Directly at the other end of the space were double door sets that opened to the parking lot.

Two college students spun records through the antiquated speaker system, making the abandoned school hall wail with the sounds of Chubby Checker, Johnny Cale and Little Richard. The dancers cycled in an out of the cages as the songs changed.

The fee to enter the building was a dollar. Back in the kitchen the boys filled cups of ice to sell for an additional dollar a piece—it was none of their business what the patrons decided to put in the cups.

“Brother Bob was in charge of sellin’ the ice,” says Don. “Thing is though, Bob liked to drink.”

There was little consistency in the collection of fees.

The dancers were content to shimmy for tips, and they did fairly well. Opening night saw 100 people patronize “Mountain Go-Go.” Chuck expertly diffused rowdy club-goers despite being as inebriated as they were.

The following weekend saw slightly bigger crowds and more dancers.

By the third week the boys decided that the club need only open on Saturdays, but the crowds that showed up warranted talk of expansion and ways to keep better tabs on the revenue.

Don, Bob and Chuck agreed to meet at the school around 1pm to talk things over.

The Watauga County Sherriff’s Department pulled up right behind them.

Chuck said, “Let me handle this.”

“Fellas,” began the Sherriff, “I’d like to see your license.”

License?

“We’re gonna get that.” Smiled Chuck

The sheriff smiled back. “I’ll tell ya what I’m gonna do. Y’all close this thing down, and I’m gonna forget about you operating this place a couple of times without a license.”

“That was the end of it,” remembers Don.

Chuck eventually got a degree from Appalachian and got married for the first time at age 60. Brother Bob became a successful real estate broker.

Don started his own company in 1977, and he remains at the helm of Donald Tickle and Associates. He lives in Sothern Pines.