"...this collection of
wood and wires
became my new
purpose in life..."

"It was at this point
that my Grease
soundtrack was never
to be heard from
again."

Biography

The story begins with the signing of the Declaration of Independence. William Hooper, my great grandfather four times removed on my mother’s side, was one of the original signers of this historic document. Each generation that followed also found one of my ancestors woven into the fabric of American history.

My great grandfather graduated from and taught at West Point as would his son eventually following in his footsteps. My grandfather was appointed as military aide to then Franklin Roosevelt during World War II and was present at the Yalta Conference which signified the end of that epic war. My birth notice in the local newspaper declared that a future West Point cadet had been born, destined to follow in his family’s historic military tradition. Oops.

I am Richard Park Ward, aka The Duke. In case you’re wondering, I picked up this moniker after a German heavy metal writer declared that “if Zakk Wylde is the King of Modern Rock Guitar, then certainly Rich Ward is The Duke.” Not being a big fan of John Wayne’s westerns I initially resisted, but it eventually stuck. Rewind a few years and my own tale begins in Atlanta, Georgia.

Growing up I was always a fan of music. My mom used to listen to John Denver, Gordon Lightfoot and Carly Simon among others. So I, with no other reference, thought that this is what music was all about. After my parents split, my mother’s work schedule was such that my younger sister and I spent a lot of time unsupervised. So, to keep some structure in the household my mother offered free room and board to a female college student who would look after us each day after school. With her came a stack of records containing sounds I had never experienced before. It was on!

For the first time I heard bands like AC/DC, Van Halen, Black Sabbath, Rush, Genesis and many others that totally blew me away. It was at that point that my Grease soundtrack was never to be heard from again. When I was twelve years old my dad took me to a pawn shop and dropped $35 on a Fender Mustang. It fretted out on at least half the neck. (That means no sound!) But this collection of wood and wires became my new purpose in life.

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