Juanita Aurand:  

Where I was. Back in high school I was abused/stalked/molested by my father. He tried to kill me twice. So, yeah, I cried a lot. Sometimes I could barely hold my head up in class because I was sedated. I was on tranquilizers prescribed by our doctor. The police came to our house one day and took my father to Fort Logan Mental Hospital where he was diagnosed as a paranoid schizophrenic. After three months they released him because, 'he really hadn't hurt anybody'. I remember standing at my gym locker one day after my father had visited my room before I left for school . I was crying, there at my locker. And I heard, "Oh, there she is, crying again." I stopped crying that day. And I didn't cry again for a long time. In spite of some girls who liked to mistreat me (and you know who you are), I couldn't wait to get to school every day. "He" wasn't there. So that's where I was. I'll write more about where I am. It's a much better story. Where I went. I didn't go to college; starting working at Miller International (Miller Western Wear/Miller Stockman) after we graduated. Was eventually executive secretary to the VP and Controller. Met some forever friends, there. In 1973 I moved to Estes Park and was the auditor at the Stanley Hotel. And yes, it's creepy at night. You don't stay on staff long at The Stanley; they lay you off after a few months. Came back to Denver and started seriously doing music. I joined a 6-piece band comprised of some great musicians/writers. I wasn't nearly the performer they were but it was the start of what would become many opportunities to learn from people I still consider to have been seasoned, stellar performers. Band egos are usually the demise of most groups. Such was the case many times over although I generally was not a problem. I was just thankful to even be there. Over the next several years I was in another 6-piece band called Blackhawk; a road band that traveled the states of Colorado and Kansas. I left that band to move to LA with my fiance, whom I parted ways with after a month of arriving there. I worked at The William Morris Agency and still blush at the goings on of that place. I pretty much just kept my head down. I was a floater, which meant I worked the desk of any secretary (that's what we were called, then) who was ill or out on vacation. The first floor was fun. The top agents resided there and when you were on their phones you spoke to Sly Stallone, Farrah Fawcett, John Travolta and the likes. And you know, they're all just people. Cleavon Little was my phone bud. He called often, trying to get my boss, who was a theatre agent, to come see him in "Same Time, Next Year" where he was performing at The Pantages. My boss ignored him on a regular basis. But he called often and he and I had long conversations, just passing time. I was rooming with my friend, Steve, who had been the drummer in Blackhawk. He had moved to LA as well and when my fiance and I split, Steve and his roomies cleared a room for me. He and I eventually rented a little place on Coldwater Canyon Blvd. It was a beautiful drive into Beverly Hills every morning to my job at WM. My friend, Geri, had also moved to LA. I met her when we played at The Stanley in Estes Park. She was the keyboardist/vocalist in a band called Kaba. In LA, Geri was dating a guy who was a studio engineer at Jobete/Motown. She and I got to do back-up vocals for the demos being recorded by the writers at Motown. There, I met a nice guy named Clay Drayton. We dated briefly. He was managing The Jackson Five, recording with Diana Ross, Stevie Wonder, whom I adore. He would invite me to sessions, etc. but I generally stay...Expand for more