Back in the ‘50s, Ed Park and I were calling great grays on the old Newberry Crater road on a dark gloomy night. I was standing in the middle of the road, bent over, hands behind my back, and moaning that low hoot when suddenly headlights from a side road pinned me in their light. Someone appeared out of the darkness, dressed in a dark blue uniform, and a burly voice said, "What is this, some kind of religious ceremony...?"
—"Big Time: They Don't Come Any Bigger Than the Great Gray Owl," Jim Anderson, The Source Weekly
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