Relay-Version: version B 2.10 5/3/83; site utzoo.UUCP Posting-Version: version B 2.10.2 9/18/84; site bbnccv.UUCP Path: utzoo!watmath!clyde!cbosgd!ihnp4!bbnccv!jlowry From: jlowry@bbnccv.UUCP (John Lowry) Newsgroups: net.bizarre Subject: End of an Era Message-ID: <52@bbnccv.UUCP> Date: Wed, 25-Sep-85 10:39:06 EDT Article-I.D.: bbnccv.52 Posted: Wed Sep 25 10:39:06 1985 Date-Received: Fri, 27-Sep-85 03:37:57 EDT Reply-To: jlowry@bbnccv.UUCP (John Lowry) Organization: Bolt Beranek and Newman, Cambridge, MA Lines: 87 From the _Berkshire_Eagle_ 9/16/85, without permission. 'Officer Obie' and restaurateur Alice toast end of an era in Stockbridge ------------------------------------------------------------------------ by Stephen Fay WEST STOCKBRIDGE - A couple of legends got together with a couple of hundred friends yesterday at the Shaker Mill to toast the end of an era. The occasion was the retirement of William J. Obanhein, for 27 years the police chief of Stockbridge. He became a legend in the late '60s in the wake of the song and the movie "Alice's Restaurant." Suddenly, everybody knew of Arlo Guthrie's "Officer Obie." But to his friends, he has always been Bill. And not everybody knows Bill. One who does know him is fellow-legend Alice Brock. Alice, as in "Alice's Restaurant," was there yesterday. She and Obanhein, arms over one another's shoulders, talked about the old days. "Now Bill and I belong to a very exclusive club: good people unappreciated by the Stockbridge Selectmen." Brock who now lives in Provincetown, had her share of hassles with the Stockbridge town fathers a decade ago when she sought to expand her old restaurant on Route 183 in Glendale. She has a new career now as an author and has just published her third book. Her first was called "My Life as a Restaurant." Then came "The Alice's Restaurant Cookbook." Her latest is entitled "How to Massage Your Cat." Asked what her latest was about, she said it was about how to massage your cat. Many of the 200-plus people who came to drink and dine with Obanhein had stories to tell. They told stories of the unofficial acts of a small-town police chief. They told of Obanhein driving them home when they were tipsy, giving religeon to a rebellious kid who was headed for trouble, telling a local gambler to clean up his act, searching for a lost dog. One speaker told about being caught by Obanhein about 22 years ago when the speaker and a young friend were breaking windows at an abandoned house. Obanhein caught them and scared the hell out of them, he said. He lectured and growled and threatened. But he didn't arrest them. Instead, Obanhein talked to the man who owned the building and asked if the two boys could work for the man to pay him back for the damage. "One of these days," the speaker said, quoting Obanhein, "these guys are going to try to get a job. I don't want them to have court records." The speaker doesn't have a court record. And he got the job. The speaker was Richard B. Wilcox, the new police chief of the town of Stockbridge. "We can lean a little bit," Obanhein said. "The trees lean and so can we." He turned to the crowd. "Thanks," he said, "I love you all." Brought to you by Super Global Mega Corp .com