Danny Beal and I landed here in the Boothbay area at about the same time. I, a traveling Willberry from away, and Danny, a traveling show from the Jonesport-Beals area. It was the late ’70s and nobody much cared. I found Arthur Barlow and Dwight Plummer at Harbor Motors, and Danny found a community of wonderful encouraging supportive fans.

Danny rolled into town like a WCTU caravan on steroids. The only difference was, he wasn’t selling “Hadacol” cure-all elixir, but he did have a lot to sell, nonetheless. And music was his remedy of wellbeing. That and an occasional good tale gone sideways. Danny could spin a yarn.

I was reminded of Danny when I happened to come across an advertisement for the recent drone light show presented in Boothbay Harbor. His name, along with other local notable songsters, was mentioned as accompanying entertainment to be broadcast during the show.

It was not one of Danny’s famous Opera House “Downeast Goodtime Hour and a Half” entertainment adventures, which he commandeered, but it made me recall some interesting times in his vicinity. Danny worked the region well. He had a devoted following and a varied interaction with other musicians with whom he played. But the real key to his successes was his personal effusive personality. He was comfortable in a music crowd.

The local houses with which he worked included the great Thistle Inn while Leonie still ran that big show. It was the local watering hole and a special collective in winter when most other bars and restaurants were closed. He played regular gigs at Tugboat Inn, a favorite, and many other local establishments. Some other groups he played with included “The Holy Mackerels,” “Boneheads” and the “Hole in the Wall Gang.” It didn’t much matter to Danny as long as music had the final say. 

Danny traveled some, too, during his musical journey. He played aboard ships, in Kansas City clubs and in Jordan where he and his family lived for several years. But I know his favorite place to entertain was right here in River City. Danny loved Boothbay Harbor.

There is one story I recalled when I heard that a Danny tune would be featured in the drone show. To this day, I laugh out loud, recalling our outing. Danny loved to golf. For a while, before the golf course was sold, Danny lived right across the street from the then-nine-hole course. He visited the course often. So, when our mutual friend Craig Andrews, of “Andrews Harborside” restaurant, got a free ticket for a group to play at The Samoset Resort, Danny, and remarkably I, were invited. I had played golf off and on over the years but was far from proficient. It didn’t seem to matter to Craig, who I think was looking forward to getting out of the hot kitchen for a little fun.

We had a blast. I was a bit of a hit right out of the box with my set of 1960’s Spaulding clubs and some hand me down shoes, which didn’t fit very well. Everyone else had newer fancy clubs and nice outfits. Anyway, we teed up on what I believe was the last hole of the course, heading toward the parking lot. As predicted, my game was quite erratic, with a good shot now and then. I stepped up to the tee second, after Craig hit a dandy right in the proper place on the fairway. There was no telling where my ball would go, but everyone was vigilant as I took a practice swing or two like I had seen Arnold Palmer do on TV.

I struck a whopper! Dead silence. I had been hitting a wicked slice but this time, for some reason, my ball hooked directly toward the parking lot. In a split second there was a loud bang accompanied by a telltale car alarm. Danny doubled over. “The unmistakable ring of fine-tempered German steel,” he announced!

Every time I saw him in a public space he reminded me of my wayward rocket! We always laughed. Danny had a distinctive laugh. The next time I played golf with Danny he arrived wearing a hard hat. I made the above photo of Danny at his last Opera House show in 2016.