Tonight at the Seawell Ballroom, Barry Fey will be inducted into yet another hall of fame, this one the Denver & Colorado Tourism Hall of Fame. In honor of his induction, we've been posting the stories that didn't make his memoir, Backstage Past. Today, Daniela Stolfi, Barry's assistant, recounts one Halloween that Barry made a bunch of preschoolers cry -- not on purpose, mind you, just by being Barry.

By Barry Fey

Daniela Stolfi-Tow, Barry's Assistant
Daniela made a dramatic rise. She came as the runner. She was my driver -- well, not just my driver, but anything that had to be taken some place, she would drive it. She wanted to set her sights higher, so she then became the receptionist, and two or three months before I left, she became my assistant. She's very talented and very imaginative. I quit in '97, and I kind of lost track of her for a little while, but she'd always keep in touch. Now she lives in Hawaii and she handles all of my Internet things. So all those things that you see are because of Daniela. I do my own posts, but she sets up the Rock Talk with Barry Fey and BarryFey.com -- the Rockfather, she made that up. She really rose like a meteor.

See also:
- Chuck Morris on how Barry turned throwing phones into an artform
- Pam Moore on the insanity of Feyline
- Feyline's "Goon Squad" leader Tony Funches on giving beatdowns to club-wielding gatecrashers

On Wednesday, March 6, Barry Fey will be inducted into yet another hall of fame, this one the Denver & Colorado Tourism Hall of Fame. In honor of his induction, we'll be running the stories that didn't make his memoir all this week. Today, Tony Funches on first meeting Barry by throwing him out of a show and then working for him heading up his so-called Goon Squad.

Jon Solomon

Tony Funches, Feyline head of security (1970-1986)
I met Tony because he was initially Jim Morrison's bodyguard and then he was Mick Jagger's. We sat down one night after the Stones show in Fort Collins, which was '69, and I was telling him about some of the troubles we were having with the gate crashers. I was scared then to put on a show. It was ugly every night. You'd have police with helmets and kids calling them "pigs."

See also:
- Chuck Morris on Barry Fey's phone throwing abilities
- Pam Moore on the insanity of Feyline, from flying staplers to puking kids to doing coke
- The late Leslie Haseman on Barry's busted zipper -- this is so not what it looks like

Besides being a long, seemingly unfounded piece of local-music folklore, as well as a now well-documented and utterly fascinating part of the Smiths mythology, the story of James Kiss is a redemptive one. It's a case study of desperation, certainly, but it's also a cautionary tale of a troubled young man who crafts a dastardly plan in isolation, but then, rather than seeing it through, he inexplicably abandons his intent, puts the gun down and turns himself in.

See also:
- The Smiths '80s radio-station takeover: What really happened per the police report
- Morrissey's quiet desparation and romantic worldview continues to connect and inspire
- The story of Smiths fan who held a station here hostage in the '80s? It's true...sort of

On Wednesday, March 6, Barry Fey will be inducted into yet another hall of fame, this one the Denver & Colorado Tourism Hall of Fame. In honor of his induction, we'll be running the stories that didn't make his memoir all this week. Today, the late Leslie Haseman with a story she shared before she passed about Barry's big mouth and a busted zipper.

Jon Solomon

By Barry Fey

Leslie Haseman (1968-69, 1970-74, '78-'79, 1997)
Leslie was unique. I met her in 1967. The people from San Francisco, Chet Helms and Bob Cohen, hired her locally to work at the Family Dog. I met her then because I was opening the Family Dog. She was my mentor in the world of hippiedom. I mean, I was scared. I kept hearing these stories about planting marijuana on us and stuff. I said, "What do we do? What do we do?" She said, "Don't worry. We'll take care of it." I asked Chet Helms once, what do I do if they plant me?" He said, "Don't worry, Barry. You won't grow."

See also:
- Pam Moore on the insanity of Feyline, from flying staplers to puking kids to doing coke
- Barry Fey turned throwing phones into an artform
- Barry Fey on that time that he held a gun to Axl Rose's head

On Wednesday, March 6, Barry Fey will be inducted into yet another hall of fame, this one the Denver & Colorado Tourism Hall of Fame. In honor of his induction, we'll be running the stories that didn't make his memoir all this week. Today, Pam Moore shares what it was like to work with the Man, the Myth, the Legend.

Jon Solomon

By Barry Fey

Pam Moore (1978-1998), Co-owner of Vashon Island Productions
Pam came to me because Bill Graham was a jerk to her. She was working in Hawaii with Steve Wolfe, an agent, and had told him she wanted to get in the concert promotion business. He told her there were only two places to go: Bill Graham or Barry Fey. She flew into San Francisco to see Bill. He made her wait and then gave her five minutes. Then she flew to Denver, and I spent the whole afternoon with her. There was just something about her, so I offered her a job. It took her six months to learn where to hang her coat, but she turned out to be a monster. She did everything, starting with advertising and then she moved into booking. It got to the point that people would rather talk to me than her. That shows you how tough she was! She was great, just the greatest.

See also:
- Barry Fey turned throwing phones into an artform
- Barry Fey on that time that he held a gun to Axl Rose's head
- Barry Fey officially inducted into the Colorado Music Hall of Fame

See also: More than a fascinating piece of Smithsology, the '80s radio takeover is a story of redemption

After examining the letters he wrote to his parents, which were included in the original Lakewood police file, and the details of that harrowing and fateful day in the fall of 1988 from the original offense report, one thing becomes clear: James Kiss was a very troubled young man with a seemingly dastardly plan. But according to Agent Hitchins, who spoke with two witnesses, and Agent Hinkle, who obtained a confession from the suspect, the eighteen-year-old boy simply gave himself up without any sort of struggle and handed over his weapon. It was odd ending, considering that he had purchased the rifle, a Remington .22 caliber Apache 77, just a few days earlier, with the specific intent of taking over a radio station at gunpoint and then forcing the staff to play the music of the Smiths.

See also:
- Morrissey's quiet desparation and romantic worldview continues to connect and inspire
- The story of Smiths fan who held a station here hostage in the '80s? It's true...sort of
- SmithsBusters: Did a Smiths fan really hold a Denver radio station hostage in 1987?

Jon Solomon

On Wednesday, March 6, Barry Fey will be inducted into yet another hall of fame, this one the Denver & Colorado Tourism Hall of Fame, and that couldn't be more fitting. Next to sports, music is probably our state's biggest attraction, and we have Barry Fey to thank for that. Before Barry, Colorado was considered a flyover state. A pivotal figure in music, Barry was the law in these parts for almost three decades. All of those stories are captured in his memoir, Backstage Past -- well, most of them, anyway.

In honor of his induction, we'll be running the stories that didn't make the book all this week. These ones are told by Barry himself, and the people he held most dear next to the fans, those who worked at Feyline. Read on to see what it was like to work with the Man, the Myth, the Legend. Brace yourself, though: These aren't tidy tales of political correctness. This is rock and roll in its glory days -- you know, when it was still dangerous and unpredictable and guys used to break shit.

See also:
- Barry Fey on that time that he held a gun to Axl Rose's head
- With the help of a psychic, Barry Fey reconnects with some old friends
- Barry Fey officially inducted into the Colorado Music Hall of Fame

Update, 2/25/13: The Smiths '80s radio station takeover: Here's what really happened according to the original offense report filed by the Lakewood Police Department, plus letters written by the suspect to his parents prior to the incident.

By Dave Herrera and Josiah Hesse

Well, so, we finally got to the bottom of this whole alleged Smiths radio ambush we told you about earlier this week that supposedly took place over two decades ago. We set out on a mission to once and for all debunk this long held myth involving a deranged gunman who apparently forced a local radio station to play four hours of continuous music by the Smiths. Turns out, the story is actually true -- well, sort of. It happened, alright, just not the way everybody thinks it did. And from everybody we've spoken with, nobody quite seems to agree on what exactly happened that day or how it went down.

See also:
- The Smiths '80s radio station takeover: What happened according to the police report
- SmithsBusters: Did a Smiths fan really hold a Denver radio station hostage in 1987?
- Morrissey's quiet desparation and romantic worldview continues to connect and inspire fans

design/illustration by Jeff Livak

Country singer Mindy McCready is thought to have taken her own life this past weekend, on the front porch of her home in Arkansas. That part of her story has been widely reported. What you may not know, however, is that toward the end of her career and, ultimately, her life, the 37-year-old artist had strong ties to the local scene. Her final album, 2010's I'm Still Here, was at least partially recorded at the Blasting Room in Fort Collins by Andrew Berlin (and later mixed and mastered by Jason Livermore). The bulk of that record was steered by Christopher Jak (Heyday, Northern Way), with whom we've spoken, and features performances by Jak and Jeremy Lawton of Big Head Todd and the Monsters. The cover art above, meanwhile, was even fashioned by a Nashville-by-way-of-Denver artist/graphic designer named Jeff Livak.

See also:
- Chuck Ragan of Hot Water Music on finally being able to record at the Blasting Room
- Jonny 5's track-by-track breakdown Flobots new album, recorded at the Blasting Room
- Kinetix on recording at the Blasting Room

Update, 2/22/13: So this story of the Smiths fan who held a station here hostage in the '80s? It's true...well, sort of. We caught up with former station employees and found the news coverage. Everyone has a different recollection it seems.

"In 1987 a distressed young man in Denver, Colorado, held his local radio station hostage insisting, at gunpoint, demanding they play nothing but Smiths records. This they did -- for four hours," writes Mark Simpson in the biography Saint Morrissey. "Eventually, the police besieging the building persuaded the unhappy young man to give himself up."

See also:
- The story of Smiths fan who held a station here hostage in the '80s? It's true...sort of
- The Smiths '80s radio station takeover: What really happened according to the police report
- Morrissey's quiet desparation and romantic worldview continues to connect and inspire fans