SBTC
Smyrna (or Southern or Sun) Business Technology Corporation (or College) was a sign on a building located north of Atlanta, on the perimeter in '79, '80 and so on. Atlanta was not such a huge place then and was full of young, well-paid transplants from all over the country. It was not uncommon for social circles to collide at some point and everyone pretty much knew all the players. The business owner was sued over the sign SBTC, because Sun Bank and Trust Corporation claimed that people would mistake the business as being bank affiliated. SBTC was visible from the interstate in huge blue letters running horizontal between 7 and 10 floors up. The owner said he could not afford to spell out the name of his new business and suggested that Sun Bank change it's name. IIRC, SBTC won the right to keep it's sign.
I remember this from living in the area and being associated with members of the business/party social circles. Everyone had an opinion and talked about the issue.
JR needed capital to expand his home tech business. He and PR requested (demanded)that PR's parents give him their life savings, promising huge returns when the business began to profit. They gave him the money only after PR threatened to abort a baby she was not carrying if they refused. They sold their home and moved into a rented house in a north Atlanta suburb and kept a low profile because of the community association prohibition on rental property.
A person I knew lived with the Paugh's in the Atlanta suburbs while she attended art college and paid rent to them. She was the niece of Lucinda R., was married to a Jeff and went by the last name of Paugh which is German and pronounced 'Bourg' and she told me this information. The Paugh's were not enamored of JR, a divorced man with 3 children, one very young, and no future of success in sight. They believed that PR had married a loser, but kept the peace because PR would cut off all communication if they even implied that JR was not the man for her. The Paugh's were not receiving any profits despite the business's growth. The amount they gave was $120K, quite a huge sum for the time, 4 to 5 times the average young professional's yearly earnings. Probably a sum valued at $400-500K today.
A second friend interviewed with JR for an outside sales position. The interview was conducted over lunch and afterwards a tour of the basement operations at his home which he relayed was a temporary situation. The interview turned into a 3 day love fest, Friday night, all of Saturday and into Sunday late afternoon. They planned to get together the next weekend and my friend was smitten. However, he did not answer his phone and did not call her in the following days. She had been dumped abruptly. He lived in a 2 story house on a curved and busy street right over a hill. The house was full of boxes and in disarray when she was there. Then she heard through another friend of ours who had a few one nighters of her own with JR that he had married the weekend after the love fest! She was very confused and went to JR's house to confront him and see if this was indeed true. PR answered the door and the car driver saw JR hiding behind it. My friend asked for JR and was told he wasn't home, but a foyer mirror gave him away. It was childish. My friend advised that she knew JR and that she needed to use the phone because of an an emergency (in fact the car stalled in the R driveway) and that JR told her she could stop by anytime. PR told her that there was no phone as they had just moved in. The driver of the car got out, went to the door, knocked and when PR answered, said "John, we can see you hiding!" The door was slammed shut. My friend walked to a phone booth at the corner service station to call for help, the driver stayed with the stalled car. Finally JE relented and brought out a portable phone (quite new fangled at the time) for the driver to use.
JR was described to me as a skinny-legged guy who wore running shorts, a nerdy-looking fellow with glasses, a beard and overtly Scottish. He was not described as great looking by any means. My friend was Jewish and thought he was charmingly gentile and her crush on him was pretty much based on his nebish persona; he amused her.
JR drove a Corvette which he bought from a used luxury car dealer. He had a specialty plate on the car, letters only. The friend who rescued the stalled car thought the letters stood for Smith-Barney Trading Company, the brokerage firm for which he worked. He asked JR, who came out to the driveway when my friend pulled up in his Corvette - a '78 Silver Anniversary Limited Edition - if he (JR) was a trader on one of the firm's floors. JR responded with disgust saying the letters stood for something to do with the military, although I can not remember the exact words he used. My friend had been in the military and spent 4 years in Vietnam and Cambodia and seemed to recognize the outfit as one that operated under the radar in Cambodia. A fake name for a real operation if you will.
PR never came out of the house. However, in a crazy turn of events, when my stock broker friend went to NY on business, he was being taken to his hotel by one of the firm's limos. Guess who jumped into the limo when it left the Broadway area? That's right, PR and her mother. They all ended up touring the city in the limo until PR missed her flight. It seems that they got drunk during the limo tour and time slipped away. She was terrified of JR's jealous reaction, my friend was worried for her and told her he would call her to check up on her and explain what happened to JR himself if necessary, using the name Raoul. Raoul was the nickname I gave to a big tom cat that sat on my balcony and howled "Raaaaouuuu" all the time. He called PR from my house, JR picked up the phone as PR was crying and telling him that JR was a maniac and had just kicked in a door. The phone went dead. We were both worried that she was being attacked, so I called and said, "Hi my name is



, may I speak to Pat?" "What do you want with her?" he screamed. I responded, "I am calling for John." He interrupted and yelled, "I am John! What do you want?!" I said "no I am not calling to speak to you, I am calling to speak to Pat on behalf of John to see if she got home alright after missing her flight. It was partly his fault because he had a free limo and he invited them to tour the city with him after they jumped into the car, mistaking it for a rental limo. All they did was ride around in the limo together and they lost track of time."
He said something like thanks for calling and hung up.
I must add that my friend was awestruck by PR's beauty and that of her mother. He said that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in person, a young Liz Taylor, and was mesmerized by both of them. She was perfectly groomed and made up and her mother looked like an older, but still beautiful version of her. He said they were both glamourous and classy and couldn't believe he was riding around NYC in a limo with this gorgeous woman. Probably a highlight in his life. They thought he was a 'fat cat' because of the private limo - he wasn't but didn't correct their mistake. "Fat Cat" was a very common term in Atlanta to describe those who "made it" on their own but only slurping the cream of the top of the labor of their employees. It was not a term of endearment. If anything else had happened between the 2, he would have told me - we were very good friends, so PR was not unfaithful to JR. She was young, having fun and got carried away.
Like I said, Atlanta was a small place in the late '70's and early '80's before the really big boom happened. IBM and Delta Airlines had recently located home offices there and the airport was still under construction. Money flowed like a river and anyone in the party scene knew, or knew someone who knew, everyone.
I haven't posted any of this before because I assumed that no one would believe the coincidences but we were all students, tending bar and waiting tables in some of the posh Hotlanta spots, so we always had the low down on everyone who was anyone. JR was trying to become a "someone", so he was on the scene being seen a lot. Many of the girls I worked with knew him well; he was a good tipper.