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Drawing a line in the dirt Mail Tribune / Bob Pennell Emily Miljkovic and Kelsey Irish, both 12 and from Williams, found a way to keep dry and hold a place in line for the Kenny Loggins concert at the Britt Festivals Tuesday night. Some of their line neighbors had been there since 6:50 a.m., even though the concert wouldn't start for 121/2 hours. The line phenomenon has been a longtime tradition at Britt that gives those with the cheapest tickets a chance at the best seats. Hardcore fans get there early By BILL VARBLE JACKSONVILLE - It's Tuesday, and Mary Vediner has been sitting in the thick dust by the Britt fence since 6:50 this morning. Garrett Johnson came then, too. Tim Neall came 10 minutes later. "I've always wanted to see Kenny Loggins," Vediner says. "I'm so happy to be sitting in the dirt." A heavy sky will soon unleash June showers. It's worth it all to line neighbors here at this county-owned park. When Loggins hits the stage this night, Vediner and Neall will be up front, that's a given. Johnson will be long gone, his pockets full. He's a line holder, paid to hold somebody's spot. Britt draws some 60,000 fans each summer to the hillside in tiny Jacksonville to see big-name performers. Getting in line early means grabbing coveted space right in front of the stage. It's a tradition that gives those with the cheapest tickets a chance at some of the best seats. "There's been talk over the years about making the area reserved," Britt manager Ron McUne says. "The idea never goes anywhere." Vediner, 50, has sat here dozens of times over the last 15 years. Her kids have sat in line here. She has memories here. "It's nice to take time out of your life and do this," she says, working on her needlepoint. The earliest she ever came was 4 a.m. for Bruce Hornsby. "He came out and talked to us," she says. Neall, of Portland, goes off duty when his replacements arrive. Leslie Downs and Bruce Darling, of Santa Cruz, Calif., are on a trip, and this is its focal point. "This line phenomenon is very foreign to me," Darling says. "Our hostess stood up at the table last night and brought it up. It's like a military maneuver." "It's a ritual," Vediner says. "Like summer would be incomplete without the line," Darling says. "The conversation went on 45 minutes. Styles. Techniques." Downs, 54, says her group includes a designated rusher, a fast runner primed to make a dash for the best blanket spot. Vediner nods. Her husband has special Britt line shoes. "His Birkenstocks fall off," she says. It must be a boomer thing. People say their parents didn't do this in their 50s. There's line etiquette. It's kosher for a couple to hold a spot for another couple, maybe even a couple of couples, but not too many, definitely no more than six people, tops. Vediner says the only boorish behavior she's ever seen here was for last year's Shawn Colvin show. Some men who may have had too many beers kept letting more friends into line ahead of people who had been in line for hours, despite protests. McUne says Britt has little control over what happens on a public street before a show. "Some people are polite, and some aren't," he says. Signs say that holding a spot for a group is not allowed. Drinking breaks a city ordinance. Johnson, 14, of Medford, says he gets $2.50 or $3 an hour. He's held for the Righteous Brothers, The Wallflowers, now Loggins. What happens when his customers show up? "They just come up and say thanks," he says. There's even a group of line waiters called Ladies in Waiting. Downs was getting organized for the Loggins concert - ice chest, shorty lawn chairs, books to read - when she had an epiphany. Hundreds, maybe thousands of people were doing the same thing. Their energy would come together tonight, then disperse forever. She's a veteran of the mother of all lines, in 1976 in London when a strike stranded thousands in the airport. "We were there for three and a half days," she says. "It becomes these little communities. You form groups of eight and look out for each other, give each other time off." Vediner doesn't even want to think about three days. All she knows is, when her husband and friends show up and she's been in line 10 or 11 hours, he had better be bringing a fabulous dinner. Reach reporter Bill Varble at 776-4478 or e-mail [email protected] Mail Tribune Home | Ottaway Newspapers, Inc. | Dow Jones & Co., Inc. | Privacy | Contact Us Copyright � 2001 Mail Tribune, Inc.