Jim Kozan remembers Teen Canteens

Waseca musician Jim Kozan remembers being among as many as 400 area youth who would attend “Teen Canteen” dances held during the 1960s and ‘70s in Waseca.

 

The Canteens existed prior to the beginning of Sheriff Don Eustice’s tenure from 1967 to 1976, but area residents who attended the dances intertwine his memory with the get-togethers. 

 

For one thing, Eustice and other law enforcement officers were present at the dances to interact with teens while also serving as security.

 

Much more than that, Eustice took on the task of finding bands for the events. Still today, Kozan expresses how impressed he was at the quality of performers Eustice managed to procure. A number of the bands had recording contracts. The Royal Guardsmen, who came more than once, had national-level hits, among them “Snoopy vs. the Red Baron.”

 

Eustice also made sure necessary details were taken care of when it came to setup and teardown, calling freely on the teenagers among his nine children to take care of tasks.

 

Kozan recalls being 14 years old when he attended his first Teen Canteen dance in 1964, at that time in a two-story brick building on State Street which served as both police station and fire hall. The events were moved to the 4-H building at the fairgrounds when the noise of dancing feet interfered with the safety agencies’ ability to hear incoming calls.

 

The events are an abiding memory of his youth, Kozan says, and wagers any conversation about them with area baby boomers (folks born between 1946 and 1964) will lead to many entertaining accounts of experiences and memories. “I realize now, I was really lucky to be growing up at that time,” says Kozan.

 

Acknowledging the frequent dances were likely Eustice’s way of keeping teens from seeking out less acceptable entertainment, Kozan describes a time when a small group of recent high school graduates made plans for a night of drinking in a rural area. “What was supposed to be 15 or 20,” he remembers, “turned out to be–oh, maybe 100 or more…there were so many people.”

 

When a neighbor saw the vehicles and crowd, he called law enforcement. 

 

“Don and some other officers came driving right into the middle of it,” Kozan describes. The sheriff then used a bullhorn to announce who he was and instruct, “Stay right where you are.”

 

“Everybody disappeared into the woods,” Kozan remembers with a laugh, mentioning he was among the group that did not have the chance to join them. “We got a talking to,” he recalls.

 

At a Teen Canteen shortly thereafter, Eustice stepped onto the stage during a break and announced, “I know who all of you are who were out there,” Kozan recalls. Eustice went on to say the owner of the adjoining property had experienced about $75 in damages. He told participants to drop off their shares of the reimbursement either at the Waseca Music Store, which Kozan’s parents owned, or at the sheriff’s office.

 

“That’s how Don was,” remembers Kozan. “He wasn’t out to write tickets or arrest people. He just wanted to see people get along and keep the peace. Nearly everyone seemed to be on a first-name basis with him.”

 

Of all the Teen Canteens Kozan attended, he remembers only one fight. “It was some guys from Mankato,” he recalls. “I knew one of them, and I asked him why he was there.

 

“He said he and some of his friends wanted to see what ‘these Waseca boys’ were made of.

 

“I warned them not to,” Kozan describes. “I told him these were farm boys, and they were made of some pretty tough stuff. But they tried it anyway.”

 

A short fight ensued.

 

“It wasn’t long, Don and his deputies had the Mankato guys face down on the floor. I guess they spent the night in jail, and Don probably sent them home the next morning.”

 

In 1971, after his four years in college at St. Thomas, Kozan and some friends formed the “Cletus Hane” band. He and fellow members Jerome Broughten, Steve McCloone, Keith Deike and Dan Westphal chose the name because area property owner Cletus Hoehn allowed some of them to live on a house on his property for only the cost of electricity and heat.

 

“In high school, I was all about sports,” Kozan recalls. “But gradually I got more interested in music. I felt like I was rich because I could go out, play for a night, and earn $25.”

 

At least once, Cletus Hane was called on short notice when a Twin Cities band scheduled to play at a Teen Canteen had to cancel.

 

“It was a change, being there up on stage,” Kozan recalls. “But we played some good music and everyone seemed to have a good time. The baby boomers were there to boogie.”

 

Kozan also recalls the wave of sadness and loss he felt when he learned of Eustice’s death in September of 1976.  “He was a good man doing his job exceptionally well,” Kozan recalls. “He should have been able to keep doing it until he was ready to retire.”