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As I’ve documented before, we find interesting things inside records from time to time. Many of them you can find taped on the walls of the dollar store. A while back, Justin found a picture an army guy, a cool but tough looking fellow, a guy who looked like he could whup some ass in the military but play a mean bass guitar on the side and still be a family man. So up on the wall of the shipping and holding room he went, guarding the boxes of yet-to-be-listed auction LPs.

He sat there for a year or so, and became part of the room. I guess we had forgotten about him when one day an old trucker who worked for the company down the hall came by and caught a glimpse of the army guy. The old trucker went on to tell us how he had served in Vietnam, and the man whose picture was an the wall wasn’t just any old army guy, he was a Sarge. He pointed out to all the badges on his jacket explaining what a bad-ass The Sarge was. The trucker instructed us not to take down the photo, and to treat the Sarge with much respect. We agreed and thanked him for all the info.

After that, Justin and I saw The Sarge in a different light. His picture, found in an old forgotten soul record, could now live on along with the memories of what he did to serve our country. The Sarge was the man.

So he stayed up there for a while. We added a few more pictures below him that we found, that kind of looked like his kids. But then, two days ago, I pulled out a Lonnie Liston Smith record to check the condition, and there inside was a signed promo marketing photo circa 1965 of a nice looking young lady named September Jones. “Whoa!” I said to Justin. On the back cover was a note addressed to a woman who we had just bought a 60s soul collection from. In the note September Jones said what a crazy friend this woman was, and to always stay that way. We did a quick google search and found that September Jones was a soul singer who released one 45 on Kapp with a lead single called “I’m Coming Home”.

After that, we both kind of thought the same thing at the same time. Justin handed me the tape and I put September Jones, who moaned on her lone 45 about seeing problems around the world and wanting to come home, up on the wall right next to the Sarge. The proud, honorable Sarge now had the finest woman in all of Cousins Vinyl to call his own, and September Jones had made it home.

 
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