When It All Goes South

In Memoriam

Price "Scuba" Osborne
May 10, 1951 ~ June 26, 2001

Many, many times we hear the words "I'm your #1 Fan" and although they are spoken honestly and from the heart there is truly only one person who can rightfully claim that title, our own Hampton Price "Scuba" Osborne, original Alabama road crew member and lifelong devoted fan.

Born in Leaksville, NC in 1951, Price Osborne was a man of gentle grace, honesty, honor and dignity. A high school wrestler and an accomplished swimmer, he often took those less proficient under his "wing" instructing and ultimately assuring their progress. He taught lifesaving courses to many an aspiring community lifeguard, and he was a skilled instructor. As he entered adulthood Price matured into a big bear of a man with a resounding deep voice that commanded respect and immediate obedience, yet he was never cruel, preferring humor over confrontation. By definition he was a shining example of a true "southern gentleman" and his touch enriched the lives of those who knew him.

In the 1970's Price worked as a waiter/beer-tender at a local tavern in Eden, NC during the Myrtle Beach "off-season" but his first real avocation was waiting tables during the summer months at the Bowery. The Bowery was where he acquired his nickname "Scuba", the name all of us with Alabama knew him by, given by a now forgotten patron who couldn't remember the name Price but did remember that he was a PADI certified scuba diver. The nickname stuck fast and after it adhered he was known to all of us only as Scuba.

During those long summer seasons in the late 70's he became intimately acquainted with a brash, upstart 4 man band that called themselves "Wild Country". Scuba worked the patrons and waited tables while the band played for tips, and in those close quarters they developed a special relationship. He witnessed the name change from Wild Country to Alabama, he heard them mature musically, then in 1979 when he witnessed the induction of Mark into the band he saw the fires start to burn. It was there in the Bowery that he became their most avid supporter as he watched them grow into the powerhouse that we all now know as the force that has forever changed the world of country music.

He was so certain that "his boys" would succeed that in the summer of 1980 he left his first true love, the Bowery, and departed with his second and greater love, Alabama. It was a tremendous gamble at the time, especially in light of the "rule of thumb" that bands were never a successful country music entity. Oh, how he proved the pundits wrong. As an original crew member he experienced that heady rush of the first top-twenty song, followed by the first #1 and then that amazing string of 21 #1 singles in a row. Every #1 single, every award, every accolade always brought forth the same pride in his voice as he'd say "that's my boys." Ultimately, Scuba became Mark's dedicated drum tech and did a fine job preparing the drums for those many daunting concert appearances, taking pride in his work and chiding Mark whenever he thought the exuberance of the performance endangered the equipment, always with that crafty smile and gentle humor. He never faltered in his devotion to Mark and the band. No band has ever had a more loyal crew member. He loved them without reservation..

Joe Carpenter, the only remaining active original Road Crew member, offers this remembrance:

Trying to sum up the life of a man and a friend is difficult, especially if that man was Hampton "Scuba" Osborn. He wouldn't stand out in a crowd, but, if you ever met him, you'd not forget him. He was blunt; he'd say what was on his mind to anyone without regard of the consequences. He was shy around strangers, but, around friends, he was fun. He didn't want fame and glory. but, he was a visible person. If you goofed up, he'd be the first one to tell you so, very orally, and then drop the matter. He was loyal; he might want to stomp you one minute, but, if trouble started, he'd be at your side until the bitter end. Such was the life of "Scuba". He was all this, and, he was a friend, who will be missed.
When ALABAMA first 'hit the road' back in 1980, there were 5 of us on the Road Crew; Bruce, "Scuba", "Casey", Tara and myself. We all knew and had worked with each other in the Bowery, but, none of us had anything in common, except a belief in "the boys". Our backgrounds were varied and, other than my limited 'tour' experience with a Gospel act, had no concept of what we were about to embark on. Here were people that were casual friends suddenly living and traveling together in vans across the country. "Scuba" was the master of innovation; no air conditioning in a van ? Open the windows and use "2-60" air conditioning, only 1 bed in a motel room ? Grab pillows and blankets and make a bed in the bathtub or closet. "Scuba" was our Marine; he'd improvise, adapt and overcome in any situation. In those early days, most of ALABAMA's concerts were in bars or small County Fairs. Catered meals were usually hot dogs and hamburgers bought from the concession stand wherever we were setting up. "Scuba" took this in stride; his only 'major' complaint was the lack of 'cold drinks' on stage.
"Scuba" would always make you shake your head and wonder about him. One COLD winter night in Asheville, NC, on a $20 bet, "Scuba" jumped into the swimming pool. This had been a long, hard day for all of us, and, a hot shower and sleep were our prime objectives. Fatigue had set in and trying to open the motel room door was a challenge; it wasn't for the $20 bet that "Scuba" took a swim in freezing water, it was to shock all of us and it worked. The fatigue was forgotten as we discussed privately if "Scuba" was insane, while he took the first shower. Insane ? Not hardy, "Scuba" was sly as a fox and figured out how to get the first shower !
"Scuba" was a 'celebrity' in his own way. While the rest of us pointed out to others his fame, "Scuba" downplayed it. "Scuba" was a record holder in the Guinness Book of World Records and was listed in Ripley's Believe It Or Not. His claim to fame was carrying 32 full mugs of beer in his bare hands over 100 feet without dropping a mug or spilling a drop of beer. When Ripley's wanted to make a statue of "Scuba" to put on display, he gave up his 'trademark', a leather cowboy hat for the statue to wear, but, he refused to sit for the people from Ripley's so the statue could be lifelike. "Don't make me look like something I'm not" was his response to the requests. Several of us sent photo's to Ripley's for them to use.
When he was diagnosed with MS, "Scuba" worried that he'd not be able to do his job and let 'the boys' down. When his eyesight began to fail and he couldn't drive, he'd still ride in the truck with us. Scuba would sleep during the day and at night, when fatigue would set in, he'd be wide awake and keeping the driver awake. As the disease continued to take it's toll on him, Scuba made the hardest choice of his life: he 'retired' from the road and ran a kennel for Teddy. When MS made that impossible for him to do, Scuba left Ft. Payne and returned home to North Carolina for treatment and to be with his family. Scuba never actually left the crew; when ALABAMA was in his area, Scuba was there. The hardest thing I've ever done is stand back and watch my friend waste away from this disease. The last times Scuba visited concerts, I always remembered that night in Asheville, NC and the freezing water in that swimming pool. If that pool had been the Fountain of Youth or held some mystical healing powers I would have carried him back to it and jumped in the water with him in my arms.
When I got word that Scuba had died yesterday, part of me died as well. Scuba was a 'gentle bear' of a man. He was the perfect example of what a 'friend' should be; he accepted a person for what they were and didn't try to change them into what he thought they should be. He wasn't demanding of his friends, time and distance didn't matter. If he was your friend 10 years ago he was still your friend when he died. This isn't saying 'good-bye' to a friend, only saying have a safe journey to the next stage.

Hampton Price "Scuba" Osborne was laid to rest June 30, 2001 in Stoneville, NC. At his request, he wore his "My Home's in Alabama" black satin tour jacket with "Scuba" embroidered in gold thread upon the chest, a set of Mark's drumsticks in his hands and an Alabama baseball cap at his side.

Rest in Peace, beloved brother, you will be sorely missed, not only by your loving wife Pam and the lights of your life, your daughters Beth and Emily, but by all of us in and around the Alabama organization whose lives you touched.

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