Harmon Wages: The Butcher's Boy

Contents

Author’s page: Stan Awtrey

Editor’s page: Martha Kavanaugh Hunt

Foreword: Steve Spurrier

Foreword: Bill Hartman

Chapter 1: Circumstances of My Birth

Chapter 2: Growing Up in Pinegrove

Chapter 3: Boy Stuff

Chapter 4: On the Gridiron

Chapter 5: Gator in The Swamp

Chapter 6: Atlanta Falcon

Chapter 7: Decking the Dutchman

Chapter 8: Wages Does It All

Chapter 9: In the Army Now

Chapter 10: My Playing Days Are Over

Chapter 11: Behind the Microphone

Chapter 12: Famous Friends

Chapter 13: Arrested Developments

Chapter 14: Deborah Norville

Chapter 15: Victory in the Courtroom

Chapter 16: Incarceration

Chapter 17: Rejected and Scorned

Chapter 18: A New Chapter Begins

Chapter 19: Loose Ends

Stan Awtrey, Author

As current executive director of the Georgia Sports Writers Association and sportswriter for The Atlanta Journal-Constitution since 1977, Stan Awtrey has travelled the world and seen it all.

He’s covered over 1,000 sporting events and interviewed one-on-one such celebrities as the legendary Arnold Palmer over breakfast in Arnie’s office at Bay Hill.

And then, in 2020, old friend Harmon Wages walked in, intent on finally writing his long-anticipated autobiography. Who better than his bud Stan Awtrey to give him a fair assessment while putting (printable) words to his at-times charmed and often-times controversial life?

To get a feel for his early years growing up in Jacksonville, Florida, Wages took Awtrey on a road trip for photos and visits to some old haunts. Sites included Robert E. Lee High School where Harmon first set foot on the gridiron; his dad’s Pinegrove Market, which kept young Harmon busy and out of trouble; Boone Park, his fave stomping ground as a kid; and the various houses he called home with his adoptive parents, Leon and Nell.

With hours and hours of audiotape, Awtrey was able to capture most all of it eloquently, from birth to age 76. Wages jokes his only regret regarding the book is that he didn’t do it sooner so he and Stan could have had more time for a sequel.

Martha Kavanaugh Hunt, Editor

Martha has always loved writing, but this was her first venture into editing someone else’s work.

She graduated Converse College, Spartanburg, South Carolina, with a major in English and Psychology, taught high school English, then spent 36 years in public relations and crisis management.

Having both grown up in Jacksonville, Florida, Martha and Harmon know but have not seen one another, as of this writing, in 56 years. They reconnected on Facebook in 2020 and, via email, texts and phone calls, Martha was instrumental in encouraging Harmon to write his autobiography.

In the course of editing and tweaking the final manuscript, she says she has read it a total 20 times and continues to laugh and get teary-eyed, which is a sure testament to its being compelling and engaging.

Martha has self-published three books—a collection of personal poems, a little political nursery rhyme, and Edith, a biography of her mother. Her A Wishful Tale of Elephants and Donkeys is on Amazon.com, but the other two were written and published just for family and friends.

All that said, nothing prepared her for Wages’ autobiography in terms of detail and scope. For Author Stan Awtrey and Martha, it has been a fun labor of love and a story well-worth telling.

Foreword

by

Steve Spurrier

1966 Heisman Winner and Former NFL Coach

In college back then, we hung out mostly with our peers, our classmates. Being a year behind me, Harmon and I didn’t spend a lot of time together at the University of Florida—except for on the field.

As a fellow quarterback a year younger, Wages spent a good bit of time on the bench until I graduated in 1967. I was happy to see all that pent-up energy and drive explode later during Harmon’s six years with the Atlanta Falcons.

This is a fascinating, at-times incredible, autobiography of a truly great athlete who has lived a unique and complex life. Spanning his 76 years, The Butcher’s Boy is the type story that makes it hard to wait till the next page, the next chapter.

If you love college football and pro-football, sports in general, or just a good read, Wages’ story will amaze you.

Go, Gators!

Foreword

by

Bill Hartman

50-year Atlanta Sportscasting Icon

Harmon Wages is one of the most interesting people you could ever meet. Often said is His story ought to be in a book. And it finally is.

Harmon was a man about town in an Atlanta that was blossoming in the 70s. He wore a fur coat and always had a beautiful woman on his arm. Pete the Barkeep knew him. The mayor knew him. I first knew him as an Atlanta Falcon, who would soon be seated at my typewriter asking me what query meant.

It was my job to get him into the sportscasting business. He was terrible in those early months but he had…IT. Our GA-FL rivalry was fun—I nailed him on live TV with a Lemon Meringue pie when the Dawgs beat the Gators.

All that was a long time ago but we’ve kept in touch. Harmon’s been my friend for 45 years. Some of those years were good for him. Some bad. But I know this—whenever his name pops up on my phone, I answer it because I always want to hear the latest.

Sports Director Bill Hartman at the news desk of Atlanta’s CBS (now FOX) affiliate Channel 5

Retired in 2008, Hartman continued to cover Friday Night High School Football for another 13 years, then retired for real in 2021 after over 50 years in the business

Chapter 1

Circumstances of My Birth

I was a Black-Market baby, bought for cold, hard cash.

A simple business transaction. No lawyer involved. No one poring over the details to ensure all the papers were in order because there were no papers.

I was sold for $500.

Back in 1946, you could buy a nice used car, put a down payment on a house, go to college for around $500…

And you could buy a child.

In the case of my birth mother, $500 bought her freedom. She was a 16-year-old in Waycross, Georgia, who made a mistake. I don’t know if she ever considered taking me home and raising me as a single mom. That just wasn’t done in those days, certainly not in the South.

Any chance I had to be brought up by my birth mom was scuttled anyway by her mother, my maternal grandmother, the matriarch of the family. She ruled and did not consider the matter of my birth to be an opportunity to compromise.

We will have no bastards in this family.

I could blame my birth mother for not pushing back, and I don’t hold her harmless, but she was just a kid and had to be scared out of her mind. There was some serious dishonor attached to being single and pregnant back in those days. Without the support of her family or another realistic option, she had no other choices.

There was a man in Folkston, Georgia, not far from Waycross, named Clifton Adams. He later became my Uncle Cliff when he married Mom’s sister, Hazel. He owned a car dealership and the Richcliff Restaurant in Folkston.

Uncle Cliff was the town’s wheeler-dealer. He had his fingers in lots of pies. He knew everybody in town and for miles around. He knew everything that was going on, so it wasn’t surprising that he knew about a local teenager who had gotten herself in trouble.

He immediately thought about his sister-in-law, Nell Wages, in Jacksonville, Florida. She and her husband, Leon, had been trying unsuccessfully to have a child. Leon’s health wasn’t great—it had kept him out of the Army—and all the women on Nell’s side of the family had trouble getting pregnant.

It was even difficult to adopt back then. World War II had taken many of the country’s young men. The birth rate here was very low so babies were highly prized.

Nell and Leon appeared to have secured a baby once, but the process never went through because of Leon’s ongoing health issues. The adoption people weren’t willing to risk handing over a child to a couple with health problems when there were so many other viable prospects. Cliff knew how badly his sister-in-law wanted a baby but nothing could be done.

Until now.

That’s when Cliff worked out the deal that changed lives. He arranged with my grandmother to sell the little bastard for $500 cash.

Being a Black-Market kid, there was no birth certificate. Nothing. However, there was some rather shady paperwork and a fake birth certificate that identified me as Baby Chapman (my birth mother’s surname). My father’s name was John Smith.

Cliff Wages picked me up, drove me to Jacksonville and handed me to Nell and Leon Wages. I’ve had a lot of good breaks in my life, been blessed to have many things go in my favor, but I had no luckier break than the day Uncle Cliff bought me and brought me to Mother and Dad.

When they received me, they got on their knees and thanked God. They were deeply religious so they understood that I was in their home because of Divine Providence. It wasn’t luck. It was an act of God. Mom and Dad prayed for me that day and promised to raise me up in the fear and admonition of God. It was a promise they kept.

The Baptist church was as familiar to me as home. Sunday School, Summer Bible Camp, Bible Study, learning all the Books of the Bible, repeating them like my ABCs—all were part of me and continue to be. I sang in the choir for years until I got involved in high school sports. At 76, I see God’s hand in every aspect of my life since birth—the good and the bad.

I never met my birth mother, but I found out as much as I could. Years later, I paid a private investigator $750—a lot of money back then—to learn the truth. Her name was Evelyn Louise Chapman.

Funny, during his research, the PI told me he had also discovered that my great great great great great grandfather on my birth-mother’s side was Confederate States Army General James Ewell Brown Jeb Stuart. How ’bout that?

I never discovered who my biological father was. Way too many John Smiths to track down.

After I was born, my birth mom married and moved away. She later had a family of two boys and two girls. I arranged to meet the two sons in Atlanta and learned that one of them was at the University of Florida the same time I was for a