The old band would sometimes rent out a small ballroom above a Northside bar. A half-dozen kegs of cheap beer would be enough to make the crowd of teens happy; the drinking age was 18 then.
One time the floor shook so much that the bar owner told the band to stop. He thought the floor would cave in from the wild dancing.
After one gig, as we were loading the equipment, we heard a crash.
Then we heard sirens.
That was the last kegger the band threw.