Chris Ward

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We first met Chris Ward when he promoted a show for us at Western Illinois University in a very small town named Macomb. I immediately knew he wasn’t an average promoter as he called me to confirm details of the show and discuss promotion. We didn’t know what to expect as we drove the long and tiny road in to Macomb. We had been on the road for two weeks already and, lets just say, we’d been paying our dues. We were tired, hungry, broke, and a little dejected. We feared the worst for this show because, if memory serves, it was booked on Labor Day and the school seemed to be a commuter school, meaning kids wouldn’t be around.

We loaded our gear in to the student center and went out for some crappy pizza. We took our time getting back to the college because, frankly, we didn’t think it would matter much. When we got back the show had already started and, to our surprise, the place was packed. It turns out that Chris Ward is the kind of guy who, when he gets excited about something, is totally infectious. Evidently he had been walking around campus for a week with a boom box playing our CDs, passing out flyers, and just generally hyping the band to anyone he could get his hands on.

The show was amazing, we sold a ton of merch, and it saved the tour. If we never saw Chris again he would probably still be in the Hall of Fame just for that effort alone. Thankfully, it didn’t stop there. Chris threw an after-party for us at someone’s apartment. Details are foggy, but I remember a bathtub full of beer and a lot of inebriated college kids who were hung on every word we had to deliver about life on the road. He let us crash in his dorm room. He and his then-girlfriend-now-wife, Sarah, got us into the dining hall on their meal cards where we stole as much free food as we could hide.

Chris was studying journalism at W.I.U., so the next time we came to town he wrote an article in the school newspaper that still cracks me up to this day. As ridiculous as it is, it is probably the most accurate reflection of the culture of that lineup that has ever been documented. The show on that tour was great as well. And this time the after-party was at Chris’ apartment. Again, details are foggy. I do remember someone streaking past a campus police officer. I also remember Posty confessing to us that no one ever taught him how to take a shit. A virginity alarm sounded on one of the party-goers, sending shockwaves through the apartment and in the morning we woke to find someone had spray-painted “Milwaukees Rule 908210” on the outside of the apartment complex (anyone have a picture of that?).

Chris moved to NYC for a while and he was able to catch us a few times on home turf. He has since moved back to Illinois, where he invited us to stop in on one of our Living Room Tours. Actually he opened for us in his own house, and we were surprised by how good he was. We never knew!

He’s a freelance writer and he wrote the official band bio that went out to all journalists in press kits for American Anthems vol. 1. He also helped connect us with other writers at Performing Songwriter and Marvel.com to get us some great press.

On top of all of this, he happens to be the single funniest person we know.

Chris is the Babe Ruth of Milwaukees fans and is a no-brainer to be the first inductee into the Milwaukees Hall of Fame.

Find Chris Ward online: MySpace » Facebook » Twitter »