This week’s column came about after Cam Hayden, producer of the Edmonton Labatt Blues Festival, suggested I interview Donnie Walsh, founder and bandleader of the legendary Downchild Blues Band. Hayden didn’t go into detail; he just said there was at least one Downchild Blues story he thought would be perfect for this column. Say no more!

“Oh, you want to hear the famous story?” Walsh asks me when I finally track him down. “Well,” he begins, “we finished a gig in St. Catherines, Ont., on a Saturday night. We were supposed to play in Ottawa, which is about seven hours away, on the Sunday afternoon. We were riding home on the bus after the St. Catherines gig, at about three in the morning, and the initial plan was to go home and sleep for a while in Toronto, and then get up and drive to Ottawa.” (You gotta love the healthy sleeping pattern gigging imposes upon you. In fact, I am loving it right now, even as I write this.)

“I was laying down in the back of the vehicle sleeping,” Walsh continues, “and the rest of the band was sitting around grouching about having to go to Ottawa. And they were just carrying on and carrying on, so I finally couldn’t sleep, and I told the driver to pull over to the side of the highway. It was kind of cold and there was a slight drizzle of rain. Once we were pulled over I said, ‘Everybody that doesn’t want to go to Ottawa, get out of the van.’”

But the old parent/bus driver/camp counselor trick backfired on him. “Well, they all got out of the van!” Walsh says incredulously. Even the bus driver left the vehicle.

“So,” Walsh continues, ”I got in the driver’s seat and left, and they were all on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. Which I thought was kinda weird. Needless to say, we didn’t play the gig the next day. I had to get on the phone and say we couldn’t make it to the gig.” Another pause. “It was a pretty big gig. On Parliament Hill, I think.” Oops.

I have to ask: “Did you expect them to actually get out of the van?”

“Not at all.”

“So they kind of called your bluff.”

“Well, they called my bluff, and of course I had to follow through, so I just got in the driver’s seat and drove away.”

“Did you go to Ottawa and play solo?”

“No.”

“Did you find out how they got home?”

“I can’t remember, but they did get home.”

“And do you still play together?”

“Oh yeah, for sure!” Walsh replies enthusiastically. “We still played together and everything was fine after that. I mean, if nothing else they got the hint that I get pissed off at their griping when I’m trying sleep.” He pauses. “Or, I got the message not to do that anymore if I want to work with them.... So either way, it’s one of those, you know.”

I think I do. But I have to wonder: who called whose bluff? I would not be thrilled to be a musician stranded by the cold highway in the middle of the night. Nor would I like to be the bandleader calling the promoter the next day and having to explain how my band had mysteriously disappeared...

“It’s not something I’d do twice,” Walsh admits. “But probably not something they’d do twice either.”

Donnie and his band are scheduled to play the Labatt Blues Festival in Hawrelak Park this weekend. Let’s hope when the bus pulls up, Walsh is not the lone passenger—because apparently Walsh doesn’t play solo.