Wayne Trout Biography
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We
asked Wayne for his biography for the site. He provided a very entertaining
insight. |
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Saturday June 25, 2005 we said goodbye to
Wayne Trout on a muggy, hot day at Mead Gardens in Winter
Park. Word of his passing had brought some 50 to 75 friends and colleagues to the amphitheatre. Some
attendees I noticed and spoke to included Tom Conlee, Scott Harris,
Dick Sollom, Reagan Smith,
Lynn Levine, Bob Poe and family,
Dick Batchelor, Diane Kiger, Bob Church, and
Wayne Weinberg. Funerals in
Florida are informal affairs anyway and an exit party for someone as laidback as the dear departed demanded casual clothing. Hawaiian shirts over baggy trousers, paisley ties over bright colored shirts and slacks were the norm and even
Doris Trout, Wayne's mother, was a petite presence in blue flower print, sleeveless dress. |
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A Remembrance By An Army Acquaintance 7-31-18 My name is Armistead Neely and just a few minutes ago I was doing some work and cam across the name Trout (in another context). This jarred my brain to remember the chance encounter with the radio personality, Wayne Trout, and wonder what happened to the dejected guy I met on that ill-fated bus headed to U.S. Amy basic training at Fort Polk in Louisiana in June of 1970. I stopped what I was doing and searched the internet only to find out that Wayne Trout passed away in 2005 after a long career on the radio air-waves in central Florida. I now feel compelled to tell a little story about meeting Wayne to someone (or anyone) who knew him as a tip of the cap to Wayne and a gesture of "adios" to him, my brief Army buddy. So here it is and then I will return from this trip down cob-webbed memory lanes to my own world: Wayne was sitting across the aisle from me on the crowded bus heading to Ft. Polk Louisiana. (For those of you not familiar with Ft. Polk, it is a place renown for its steamy humidity, steroid enhance palmetto bugs, and blazing sun in the summer and at the time scores of World War II vintage wooden un-air conditioned buildings plotted down in rows to house the happy U.S. Army raw recruits. This place, according to the U.S. Army, is an ideal place to train (i.e. badger, cajole, run, torment, & curse) recruits to prepare for their inevitable trip to the even more uncomfortable confines of Vietnam. Now I am no Einstein, but is was plainly evident that this bus was loaded with humans of relatively limited mental acumen. And, if my life was to be dependent on this lot to "have my back" in combat I was in huge trouble. I needed someone to watch my "six" while I watched his, even at this early hour of Army training. So I tugged at the sleeve of Wayne Trout and began a conversation. Mostly, the conversation centered around the consensus that we were in peril and that both our fellow recruits and future Vietnam foes were potential obstacles to our future existence. I must say that I was consoled by Wayne's wit and gift of gab. The process of indoctrination into the U.S. Army, as anyone can tell you, is one of planned chaos. The more confused, disoriented and out of control the Army can make a raw recruit feel, the more they like it. (Imagine a yard full of chickens running in all directions trying to avoid the overhead ravenous hawks. The hawks would be the Army drill instructors.) So, Wayne and I "soldiered on" through the initial brutal tongue lashings, crude medical exams, new coiffeurs, dazzling new clothes and boots before being assigned to a platoon. Once assigned to my platoon, I never saw Wayne again. But, I took great satisfaction in knowing that somewhere on this sun-scorched patch of Louisiana swamp land there was another sane, sad, and talented man anxious to return to the trade he loved- the radio. So farewell, soldier! I assume that you dodged the Vietnam experience, as did I, and that you had a full life filled with good times and many good stories. Oh, and by the way Wayne, thanks for watching my "six" for awhile. Hand Salute! |
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