Bob Katt's Weblocation
Bio/Life Story
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The Earliest Years

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Me playing skins at age 12.

MY MUSIC CAREER 

1945 - 1961

  My earliest memories of music are from my first year or two of life.  I can remember my mother playing the radio while she was ironing and doing dishes.  Theresa Brewer is my earliest memory of a singer on the radio, I

think I took notice of her because she had a little girl voice.  I remember I

"Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus" and "All I want for Christmas is

My Two Front Teeth" being sung by Jimmie Boyd, who was just a

youngster, too. 

  When I first became aware of dance music, I was about the age of 6. 

My parents took me to a wedding reception.  I think it was in the north end

of Springfield at an Elks or Knights of Columbus ballroom.  The band was

 a traditional 15 or 20 piece dance band.  I walked immediately up to

the bandstand (they were just set up on the floor) and looked to see

which instrument it was that my ears were totally locked onto. 

  Either he was the best soloist in the band or it was simply that the

tonal structure of the instrument was meant to speak to me at that point in

time. Without stopping to sample the hor's de'ourves or get a coke I pulled

up a chair about 5 feet directly in front of the font of my pleasure.  Not only

did the thing sound beautiful,  it looked very intriguing also.  The beauty of

the silver keys against the ebony wood, combined with the sound quality

served to draw me deeper into the music.  I became aware of the beat. Not

the beat of that particular song, but beat itself.  The clarinet man's tapping

foot and the beat of the rhythm became one in my consciousness at the

same time.  I began tapping my foot to see if I could do it.  Yes, I could. 

  There must have been dancers behind me on the dance floor but I

don't remember them.  I think I cried when we had to go home.

 When I was about six or seven, my parents enrolled me in the

Springfield Y.M.C.A.  They would drop me off and I would hang around

“Davy Jones’ Locker”, the recreation room, and then go to swimming

sessions.  One day while hanging out in the rec room a black kid about 10

years old started playing the piano and drew a crowd of about fifteen

kids around him. 

He could really rock.  I never found out his name and never saw him again,

but that was probably the first time I ever saw a group of black people

grooving and swinging, and it made quite an impression on me.  I think

that’s where I got the impression, right or wrong, that black people had

more rhythm than white people.

 Within two or three years of being impressed by the clarinet, I started

playing one myself.  A man name Bill Maschger came to my 4th

grade classroom at Stuart School, showed us several instruments and

played a few bars on each.  The "licorice stick" was one of them.  He wanted

to know if anyone would like to play in a band at the school and take lessons.

  I told my mom as soon as I got home.  She told my dad (who had been

 a professional guitarist) and he came home the next day with a used

clarinet which he got for $50.  He probably got it from his friend,

Steve Walko, who was a reed man who owned Walko Music in

Springfield.  Steve sold us my second clarinet (a Buffet-Crampon) for

$300 about five years later, ordered my alto flute twenty years after that

 and helped me get my tenor replated about 30 years later. (Steve died in

late 1997 or early 1998 in

a nursing home.  He had Alzheimer's and recognized few people).

  I took clarinet lessons from Bill Maschger.  There was no band in grade

school but I distinctly remember sounding out Tweedly Dee by ear

and performing it on clarinet in front of my chorus teacher and the

chorus students.

 On Saturdays during the summer, we’d be dropped off at a movie theater

for the matinee double features.  I guess that’d give Mom time to go

shopping.  At the Orpheum theater they had a giant organ, painted white

which would rise up on an pneumatic elevator from in front of the stage. 

The organist’s last name was Harmon.  He was the brother or son of our

family doctor, Tom Harmon.  The great theater organ was thunderously loud

and stunning in the spotlights as it rose up.  Harmon would play one or

two songs before the movies started.  When they tore down the Orpheum

the organ was donated to my old high school.  I have never been back to

see it since.  

 When my parents moved to 61 W. Hazel Dell on Lake Springfield in

about 1955, I attended Hazel Dell grade school.  The music teacher there

was Leslie J. Conavay, the band director I was to be under at Springfield

High School.  In seventh grade at Thomas Jefferson Junior High I had

Bill Maschger as director in the first band I ever played in. 

  I didn't really read music very well, but I was able to coast through

an arrangement first time through and then play it pretty well second time

through by a combination of watching the music and playing by ear.  I started

 on first chair of the second clarinet section and was content to be there. 

The first chair, first clarinetist was Richard Herr.  He was very good

and I enjoyed listening to him play.  Mr. Maschger instituted a policy

of "challenges" in which you would try to unseat the players ahead of

you whether you felt up to it or not.  I ended up challenging and winning

higher positions right up to second chair of first clarinet.  I never got up

the courage to challenge Richard Herr.

  One exciting thing about being in band was going to band contests. 

We traveled to different towns to compete.  As I recall, the only contest

which featured the whole band was at the Illinois State Fair.   Richard Herr

just happened to be off on vacation for the summer so I got to play the

big clarinet cadenza in the middle of one of the songs.  At rehearsal I

really nailed it, every time.  At the actual contest, in the heat of the

moment, I blew it.  At least I felt like I had.  I think I probably only muffed

it a little bit and nobody knew any different, but I was extremely embarrassed. 

  All the other times I went to contest was as a member of a clarinet quartet.  I always enjoyed playing in the quartet and was always played the first part.  I

still have several blue and red ribbons we won during those appearances. 

 It seems we almost always won first place.

 

firechief.jpg

I was a member of DeMolay,
Stephen A. Douglas Chapter
in Springfield, IL
Several of us took part
in "City Official for a Day".
I was Commissioner of
Public Health & Safety.
We all got an
HONORARY FIRE CHIEF
certificate at the end of
that day.

$

$

$

1962 - 1964

 

  The first instrument I bought for myself was a set of bongos.  I was 14

years old and earned some money selling TV guide subscriptions.  I was

into beatniks and thought it'd be cool to own some bongos.  I think they cost

me $45.  Most sets were around $10 but they just had tacked on heads. 

The ones I bought had "platinum" tuners according to Joe Fishman. 

I got them at Fishman's Pawn Shop by the square in Springfield. (I found

out years later that the tuners were just chrome plated steel.) 

   I wanted to go downtown to the new espresso coffee house, "Iago",

where I heard beatniks hung out, but Mom told me not to because the

people in there smoked funny cigarettes. 

  I bought my first saxophone from Ralph Sordil's House of Music on

North Grand Avenue in Springfield.  It was an alto.  I bought it with

money I made by mowing lawns.  I guess Ralph told Tom Fish that I had

bought it and before the sun went down I got a call from Tom saying, "I hear

you got a saxophone, you wanna play in our band?"  I'll never forget that

first rehearsal in my parent's living room.  Just 2 guitarists and me on sax. 

The only thing I remember playing was a blues shuffle in E.  I was

hooked immediately on blues.  It was so natural to play, it seemed you

didn't even have to think to make your fingers hit the right notes.

  I first played music professionally that year, 1962.  I was 16 years old. 

The group, The Galaxies, rehearsed in a round community building in a

trailer court a mile or two north of Springfield city limits.  The players

included Mike White on Bass and Bill Meyer at first, then Louie

Harmony on drums (his uncles or cousins were the rockabilly band

The Harmony Brothers).  The leader/guitarist was Mike Kiefer.  He lived

 in one of the trailers with his wife.  We played a couple of private parties in

that circular glass walled place.  (A Hires Root Beer ad was set up there

by Ward Johnson, the Governor's photographer.  The ad pictured me,

sister Cindy and Johnson Canady, sitting at a table with bottles of root beer

 in front of us.) 

  On New Years' Eve we played at the Wishing Well just about a mile

closer to town.  I made $7.50 for the night which I thought was an incredible

amount of money for just having fun.  We played songs like "Forty Miles of

Bad Road", "Guitar Boogie Shuffle", several Duane Eddie tunes and

other instrumental hits.  It seemed that in those days in the local market it

was quite acceptable to not have any vocalists.  I think that most of the

songs were in one or two different keys.  I didn't know what key I was

 playing in, only playing by ear.  Before the gig we went to a party over

by Parkview Bowling Lanes on east Stanford St.  I don't know whose house

 it was but there were girls and alcohol.  I had never gotten a buzz before. 

 Some girl asked me what I'd like to drink and I asked for a

screwdriver  because I had heard of it and it sounded cool.  The first one

went down real fast and I requested another.  I was about two or three sips

into the second one when I became aware that the room was leaning.  I remember a girl talking to me.  I was pretty oblivious to what she was

saying, being so overwhelmed by this new sensation.  The guys said it was

time to leave for the gig so I finished the second screwdriver quickly.  When

 we got to the gig I was feeling quite dizzy.  I sat at a booth and laid my

head down.  Mike and Louie told me not to do that because the manager

would realize I was drunk and I'd get in trouble.  I don't remember much

else about that night but I know I didn't have any more to drink.

  I think Mike Kiefer left the band later and we got a guitarist from

Springfield named Jim Christian.  Jim liked Charlie Christian the

jazz guitarist.  I don’t remember listening to Charlie Christian until many

years later however.

 

Johnnie & the Cyclones

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My third band, Jonnie and the Cyclones, was named plagiaristically after Johnny and the Hurricanes, a well known national act. The leader, singer and lead guitarist was Jonnie McCoy. On second guitar was Clayton Gillette.
The bassist for Jonnie and the Cyclones was Richard Hopper and the drummer was Bob Mathes. Jonnie had seen me playing at The White House, a bar in the southeast part of town where I had been playing with the Sonotones (named after a brand of hearing aids) for several weeks.
Jonnie and the Cyclones played mainly in the Springfield area but did road trips occasionally. One of the places we traveled to was the Top Cat north of Marion in Southern Illinois, about 5 or 6 hours away at that time (pre-Interstate). I didn't know it at the time but this was very close to where I would live while attending nearby Southern Illinois University in Carbondale and 36 years more. In fact I played in the same bar (under different names) many occasions years later after I had moved.
The Cyclones made one record, a 45 rpm, while I was in the band. It was recorded at Technisonic Sound Studios in St. Louis. On the "A" side was a vocal featuring Jonnie McCoy called "I Was Right and You Were Wrong" and the flip side featured the second guitar player, Clayton Gillette, and myself on saxophones on a hastily composed ditty entitled "Saxy Whack".

Lanphier High School; UNPLUGGED!

  One time I was hired to play with Chandler David and the Rhythm Raiders at the Lanphier high school prom. Chandler David Huffman was the actual name of the leader/guitarist/singer, and he was called Chan by friends. I don't know if I was replacing a missing horn player or what, but that was the only time I played with them. I don't even remember any of the other musicians who were there. Hopefully, I'll bump into someone someday who can fill me in. The prom was held in the gymnasium, with the band setting up in the northeast corner of the basketball court. From the moment the music started, it was apparent that the acoustics were less than ideal. The band was playing very loudly which, in the immense and extremely echoic room, only exacerbated the boomy nature of its sound. After about three songs the principal of the high school came up and requested that Chan "turn it down". I guess some attempt was made to ameliorate the volume, but it was unnoticeable. The principal came up to Chan again, visibly angry, and said,"If you don't turn it down, I'm pullin' the plug on you!" Well, the band started playing, and the sound was, again, unnoticeably softer. I don't remember the song, but before the chorus even came around, everything but the sax and the drums suddenly stopped. The principal had indeed pulled the plug. I didn't hear any further discussions between Chan and the principal, but we were given our walking papers and we had to tear down and leave. Years went by without hearing any more about the incident. Sometime around 1990 I met Bob Hageman who is a fellow artist and another member of Associated Artists' Gallery in Carbondale. I don't know how the subject came up, but one night Linda and I were over visiting Bob and his wife, Linda Austen and during the course of conversation she mentioned the plug-pulling incident at the LHS Prom, and she remembered that it was Chan's band that was involved. Here's what Linda had to say about the event: I'm pretty sure it was 1964. We were forced to listen to records for the rest of the night. The only slow song was "Roses are Red, My Love" by someone awful!!! Ah, a trip down memory lane! Bobby Vinson!!! It was Bobby Vinson!!! How can I remember stuff like that when I can't remember important stuff like - whatever - . . . ? Now, I'm sure she meant Bobby Vinton, but when questioned further she was able to come up with the principal's name...Charles Petefish. I wonder if he was related to my second or third grade teacher (at Stuart School), Mrs. Petefish.

1965 -1969

  Evan Rader, the bassist in my fourth Springfield band The Top Cats, (not named after the club in Marion, Illinois), had started to college at SIU in the autumn of '64. I moved in with him on the last day of 1964 in Carterville, 6 miles from Carbondale. Vocational Technical Institute, where I was to study commercial art for two years, was located about a mile or two southeast of the Carterville crossroads. We lived in a little house out in back of the Carterville Motel which was owned and operated by Fred Sears, who also lived in the motel and taught music lessons.

  The first band I played with in Southern Illinois was The Four More with Evan on Bass, Scott Geller on drums, Pete Lazari on guitar and Vic Pantaleo singing. Scott was from Provincetown, Rhode Island and had been on the record The Bristol Stomp. He was left-handed but set up his drums right handed. He was able to do rolls with his left hand on the snare while doing a ride on the cymbal with his right. Pete Lazari was from Cicero near Chicago, Vic Pantaleo was from a wealthy suburb of Chicago. He was a first string football player for the SIU Salukis. I remember going to the restaurant (recently known as Fiddler's, Alcazar, the Checkered Flag and Key West) where Vic ordered a porterhouse steak covered with mushrooms. In order, I guess, to maintain his training regimen he stuck his finger down his throat right in the parking lot and left the meal on the concrete. I thought it quite wasteful to spend probably $15 on a steak and then get rid of it but figured rich people had different standards than I did.

 The Four More were together for probably 6 months playing mostly the Flamingo Lounge's Rumpus Room which is where Bonaparte's Retreat was (later called Club Paradise and A.C. Reed's ). One night Vic got a little too jolly and sang the last part of one song while stuffing popcorn in his mouth all the while spitting it out all over the stage, microphone and dance floor. Scott got real mad, accused Vic of being unprofessional and a big argument ensued right there on the stage. I thought it was going to come to blows but it didn’t.

  We also played Speedy's in Desoto, 6 miles north, which became DuMaroc, then Classic Country. I can remember how late the band always was getting started for Desoto, getting there about 15 minutes before it was time to play, yet always getting started just about on time. We also played Joe Barone's place in Murphysboro (which was known as The Chatterbox up until Joe's death in about 1993). One night after playing there (in 1965), Joe informed us he was docking us because we started late. Vic, who was a very large person, got up in Joe's face (if that were possible, Joe being about five foot two) and informed him we weren't leaving until we got all our money. Joe opened a closet near the bar, came out with a snub nose .38 and waved it at Vic and told him to get the hell out. Vic says, "O.K. Joe, shoot me, come on and shoot me!  Pete and Scott, who were probably a bit more prudent, convinced Vic that it was time to go.

  That summer we went to Chicago and played a bunch of auditions at nightclubs hoping for a steady engagement to take us through the summer. One of the places was The Wine and Roses Lounge where the famous Chicago band The New Colony Six were playing a steady engagement. It was the middle of the afternoon and the band wasn't there but their equipment was. The management let us use their amplifiers and drums to do our audition. We auditioned at a few more clubs in the afternoons playing just a song or two. Another place hired us on the spot for a one-nighter at low pay but no further bookings were offered afterwards. Apparently we weren't very impressive 'cuz we didn't get any more gigs in the Chicago area. The band broke up shortly thereafter because Vic and Pete were graduating. I heard a year or two later that Vic was playing with a band in Chicago called The Astronauts who actually wore space suits on stage.

  After The Four More broke up I came back to Carbondale and re-enrolled in school for summer term 1965. I then jammed and rehearsed with a group who had a Joe Snoddy on drums and a guitarist named Joe Randolph. They were both from Marion. We played one afternoon at a place called The Swinging Doors which was two doors east of Quatro’s Pizza. We went on following several other bands including Danny Cagle and the Escorts. They had two sax players, Earl Walters and Buddy Rogers. Danny was the bassist and singer as well as leader. The organ player's name was Jim Spear. I don't remember who played guitar. Danny came up and introduced himself after we played and said he thought I was a very good sax player. I was flattered because the sax players he had were much more mature and accomplished than I was. Danny picked me up in his car the next day and drove me around for a while. He was a disc jockey at WDQN, a local radio station, and was also a BMOC. Everywhere we went everybody knew him and he knew everybody. I had never met anyone so loquacious and gregarious. He was kind of like Johnny McCoy, only funnier and more energetic, if that were possible. I couldn't figure out why he was interested in hanging out with me but it wasn't too long until he told me he wanted me to join his band. He explained that Buddy Rogers was graduating, taking a position as music teacher either in Murphysboro or Carbondale and quitting the Escorts. I think Evan was graduating about that time so I honored Danny's offer. We played a lot of gigs at the student center and tons of gigs for fraternities and sororities due to Danny's BMOC status. We played all of the local nightclubs on and off "the strip" also.


The "BIG TIME"

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  At this time I was still in the commercial art program at SIU-VTI.  One of my fellow art students was Rick Linton.  We found out that we were both musicians through our conversations in class.  He said he played with a band called The Egyptian Combo.  The name didn't sound familiar to me.  Rick said they were looking for a sax player because one of theirs was being fired for drinking too much.  I told him I wasn't interested because I was enjoying playing with the Escorts.  I was loyal to Danny and wouldn't leave him in the lurch. 

  Within a week the Escorts were playing for a dance at the student center of the VTI campus (actually an old army barracks).  I looked up and saw Rick Linton and several other guys standing in a corner watching us intently.  We spoke on break and I learned that the other guys were the majority of The Egyptian Combo.  I could tell they were impressed with our type of music which was very Soul oriented with selections by Wilson Picket, James Brown,  Joe Tex, etc.

  The very next day Danny Cagle picked me up in his car.  As we drove around he told me that the "E.C." had asked that he and I quit the Escorts and join up with them.  I couldn't believe my ears.  Danny would split up his own band to play with these guys?  He went on to tell me that these guys weren't just another ordinary local band.  They had a hit record about a year or two earlier called Gale Winds which had gone to number seven on the Billboard charts and they played the area making "big bucks".  AHA!  I remembered the song.  It was kind of a rip off of “Telstar”.  I had even heard it on the Springfield radio stations.    

  The Escorts played a frat party a couple of days later at the Marion Travel Lodge's ballroom.  At the end of the gig Danny asked the whole band into a side room where he broke the news that he and I were joining the "Combo" and therefore were splitting up the band.  I was astounded that Danny was able to follow through and dissolve the Escorts.  The fellows didn't take it too well.  I didn't get any flak at all but they, especially Scott Geller, decided that Danny was nothing but a "buddyfucker", apparently New England terminology, which he repeated over and over again.

 

 Rehearsals with the "Combo" were very well organized.  It was the first band I had been in that had a brass section.  I was told what notes and cadences to play by the leader, Lloyd Rainey, who worked them out on his Farfisa organ.  The horn arrangements were rather square in that they followed the chord changes strictly.  I remember, one time, suggesting we hold a seventh chord over a one-four-one change and Lloyd informed me it wouldn't work.  I asked them to go ahead and try it.  I'll never forget the look of amazement on their faces when it fit like a glove.  I didn’t know music theory but I have a good ear.

  The "Combo" wanted to teach Danny and me all their older material and add any and all soul type songs we knew.  Up to that point they were doing mostly American rock'n'roll and easy listening dance music by the likes of Acker Bilk, Burt Kempfert and Herb Alpert.  They were very popular with older people and played a lot of Elks and VFW's.  Young people liked them too.  They had a larger repertoire than any band I had ever played with then or even now with the possible exception of St. Stephen’s Blues. 

  Beside Rick Linton on guitar or trumpet, Lloyd Rainey on guitar and organ, Danny & myself were Lonnie Dixon on tenor saxophone, Butch Nevious on drums and finally the 14 year old brother of Rick, Doug Linton who could play guitar, bass, trumpet and sing.  Danny did 95% of the vocals, and Doug and I each sang a few songs. 

  Standard pay during those years had been $15 per gig.  The "EC" paid more like $20 or $30 per night and with a larger band to boot.  On some engagements we made even more.  During the first summer I worked with them, we rented a skating rink in Benton and ran our own dances on Thursday nights.  We charged cover charge, paid for a rent-a-cop, gave the owners a sum plus all the concessions and still made as much as $75 per night apiece. 

  Danny graduated from college and entered the airforce.  Young Doug Linton took over the bass playing and I became the primary singer.  Shortly after that we added a trigger bass trombone player to the band named Ellis McKenzie who was related to Nick Ridgeway , the sax player who had been with the "Combo" before me.

  We did some more recording at Technisonic Sound Studios in St. Louis and got some play on the local stations including St. Louis' popular KXOK.  The guy who owned Norman Records, a subsidiary of Dot Records, somehow got us hooked up with M.G.M. Records.  M.G.M. sent us the sound track to a movie which was soon to be released.  They had considered using Gale Winds a couple years earlier in the movie Cleopatra.  The new movie was Doctor Zhivago.  They wanted us to listen to the sound track and to pick a theme to convert to a Rock'n'roll song.  Among other themes on the sound track were two that stuck out.  One was a dopey waltz which we didn't even consider.  The other, which we decided was worthy of a rock'n'roll beat was an oddly Russian sounding melody which was to accompany the rolling of the credits at the beginning of the move.  We recorded it at Technisonic for Lenny Scheer who then sent it to Mort Nasatir at the N.Y. offices of M.G.M..  To make a long story short, M.G.M. decided to use a version of the "dopey waltz " "Lara' s Theme" that someone had written words to.  "Somewhere My Love..." it went. 

  M.G.M. pressed a token thousand copies of our instrumental "Theme From doctor Zhivago".  They only printed a few thousand token copies and made no effort to promote it in order to ensure that there would be no confusion in the public's mind about what was the "real" theme from the movie.

  We were decidedly  bitter about that set of circumstances but remained undaunted.  We went ahead and recorded some other stuff on our own at Technisonic Studios in St. Louis.  I was featured on one of Lloyd Rainey's original songs called "I Don't Care Anymore".  On the label beneath the title of the song was the caption: "Vocal by Kevin Cox".  I felt like I'd arrived, unfortunately so had the Vietnam war. 

 

  Uncle Sam didn't want me because I have 13 vertebrae fused together.  He didn't want Doug either because he was too young.  He wanted the rest of the guys though.  Rather than wait and be drafted they pulled some strings through Paul Powell (shoeboxes full of moola secretary of state) and Kenny Gray (congressman) who were close friends of the Linton boys' father Dwayne "Bump" Linton, who was an arbitrator.  They got a deal where the boys could join up together as a unit and play in Vietnam as The Egyptian Combo.  There was a live Saturday morning variety and talk show on Channel 3 in Harrisburg called "The Hour" that was hosted by Jim Cox (no relation).  When he interviewed us and heard my name he said "I have a son named Kevin Cox". and I replied, "Thanks, Dad!"  (For some reason this provoked a little laughter.)  As it turned out, 25 years later I met the other Kevin Cox who plays clarinet and saxophone.  He had done a stint in the Marine band.  We were on the same gig working for Kenny Ledford (Kenné) at Scotty's Oyster Bar.  Kenné took great delight in introducing, every half hour or so, his two saxophonists,  Kevin J. Cox and Kevin L. Cox.

 

  Back to 1967... there on live T.V. the airforce army band The Screaming Eagles played a few songs, then we played a couple songs.  The leader of The Screaming Eagles was a high ranking officer.  He had the guys step forward and they were sworn into the army then and there.   Lonnie was drummed out within weeks due to bad feet, but the rest did a two year stint in Nam playing via generator power in outlying villages, some of which were clear across the demilitarized zone.  They said they could see "Charlie" peeking out of the woods with his red bandanna while they were on "stage".  (One time they set up on what they thought was a tile patio while the villagers looked on aghast.  It turned out that the tile patio was really a stash of fish which were dried by covering with ceramics in the heat of the sun.)

  I believe that had it not been for the Vietnam war breaking up the band we would've done more recording and touring.  Doug was then old enough to quit high school.  We would probably have had another hit record and become famous.  On the bright side, I believe that if I had been a millionaire star at that age I probably would've burned out and or died.  

 

  I played another stint with the Eyptian Combo many years later.  It was when I was 39 years old.  They decided to reform and asked me to join them.  I was playing with 4 on the Floor at that time.  During the three years or so I worked with them again (about 1984 through 1986) I only played occasional gigs with 4 on the Floor.  That is why there exists in my picture collection, a couple of photos of them without me.

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