“Too Bad We Don’t Take Ourselves Seriously – We Might Actually Be Good”: Jack Vigliatura’s Letter Home, September 9, 1991

“Too Bad We Don’t Take Ourselves Seriously – We Might Actually Be Good”: Jack Vigliatura’s Letter Home, September 9, 1991

In this letter to Mary Shortt, Jack Vigliatura describes his first weeks at the University of Florida, from a late night of dancing at the dungeon-like Netherworld to the game-day crowds that emptied the campus once kickoff arrived. He also shares an early milestone for the fledgling band then known as the Fully Gnarlies: an impromptu performance in the Graham Residence Hall lobby that drew a crowd singing along, requests for copies of a homemade tape, and Jack’s joking admission that the group might actually be good if they ever took themselves seriously. Jack Vig’s letter home to Mary Shortt...
Greetings from the University of Florida: Jack Vigliatura’s Letter Home, September 5, 1991

Greetings from the University of Florida: Jack Vigliatura’s Letter Home, September 5, 1991

In this handwritten letter home, mailed on September 5th, 1991, Jack Vigliatura writes from his new life as a freshman at the University of Florida to close friend Mary Shortt, then still a student at East Lake High School. His candid reflections on college, faith, homesickness, friendship, and humor offer an intimate early glimpse of Jack before For Squirrels’ rise — the first of a series letters that chronicle his journey. Pictured above is part of the handwritten letter mailed home to Clearwater by Jack on 9/5/91. September 5, 1991 Mary, Hi there! Greetings from the University of Florida! I...
The Letters Between the Songs

The Letters Between the Songs

On Friday, September 8th, 1995, Mary Shortt was following her younger brother Chris through Clearwater, trying not to lose him as he dropped his car off. He made a traffic light. She did not. In the years before GPS and cell phones, the separation was enough to create a small panic in her: it was getting late, she did not know where she was going, where he would stop, or how they would find each other again. R.E.M.’ “Reckoning” was playing over the radio. Then, without warning, another sound entered the moment—not through the car’s speakers, Mary believed, but from...
Remember Three

Remember Three

Before For Squirrels became one of Gainesville’s great almost-famous bands, before Example released as a posthumous major-label record of promise and loss, before Bill White was remembered by a cult following of fans as For Squirrels’ bassist, he was known as a smart, funny, mischievous kid. One whose life kept intersecting with Trey Dunlap’s in unexpected ways. Their circle was young, musical, restless, and close enough that friendships, crushes, rivalries, and bands could all overlap before anyone understood what any of it would become. Trey Dunlap and Jeff Carter (bottom right to left) with Bill and Jon White (top left...
A Life Too Full for One Memory

A Life Too Full for One Memory

Before Bill White was the bassist of For Squirrels, before the Gainesville band had recorded any records or signed to a label, before the terrible September afternoon in 1995 that turned a rising rock saga into an epitaph, he was Jeff Carter’s close friend. Ask Jeff for one story that explains Bill, and he resists the notion that just one is enough. Bill White attended church and high school in Pinellas County, Florida. “Bill and I met through church,” Jeff said. “We were in the same youth group.” That humble beginning became the roots of everything Jeff still remembers: the...
The Author of For Squirrels

The Author of For Squirrels

Jason “Jay” Russell never set out to become a rock star. That may be the clearest way to understand his brief yet essential place in the story of For Squirrels, the Gainesville-bred indie rock band whose promise, work ethic and tragedy became part of Florida music lore. Jay was there before the record deal, before the national attention, before the band’s devastating 1995 van crash, and before its major-label album Example reached listeners who would never get to see nor hear the original lineup realize its bright future. He was there when the songs were still raw enough to arrive...
Smells Like Teen Spirit

Smells Like Teen Spirit

Ryan Crowder still remembers the first time Bill White came into view at East Lake High School. It was not a formal introduction, no handshake or any carefully staged social ritual. It was a glimpse of someone moving through the ordinary school day, but doing so with an energy that made him impossible to miss. “I just saw this guy coming up the sidewalk dancing around,” Ryan remembered. “Of course, later on I found out he was listening to R.E.M. Bill was a huge R.E.M. fan, as was I.” That first impression stayed with Ryan because it seemed to reveal...
Before the Fireworks Faded

Before the Fireworks Faded

Long before the For Squirrels name carried beyond Gainesville, they were four young musicians trying to find their sound and place in the world. Three of them — Jack Vigliatura, Bill White and Travis Tooke — had known one another since high school. The three bandmates were introduced to their fourth, drummer Jack Griego, while attending the University of Florida, but he was not the only missing piece of the outfit they found in Gainesville. Before they crossed paths with their future drummer, the three met Tim Bender — a young man who seemed to recognize something special in them...
Band of Brothers

Band of Brothers

Long before For Squirrels ever stepped into a recording studio or set foot on a national stage they were just a group of kids trying to do their part to build something at Tarpon Springs’ brand new East Lake High School. According to soccer Coach Mark Lange, that mattered more than anyone realizes. There was no established tradition at East Lake, in large part because the school had only opened in 1987 and Jack Vigliatura, Bill White and Travis Tooke were part of the founding student body. No championship banners. No legacy waiting for them to meet. Just a fledgling...