Soulful Miles

Pure festival gold. 😂 This guy deserves his own moment — quirky, hilarious, and the kind of memory that gives a real taste of that Rock the South vibe.

I don’t even know his name. To us, he’ll always be the guy in the sun-faded white van that looked like it had no business still running, but somehow made it to the middle of our muddy campground like a legend. He was part of the scene. A fixture. A strange sort of lighthouse in a muddy sea of chaos.

The van itself? A true festival masterpiece. Slapped with “Shaggin’ Wagon” across the side windows in white shoe polish. He had a mustache that screamed “1984,” a pair of jean overalls with no shirt, and the kind of chaotic confidence you only find at a music festival (or possibly in a Florida man headline).

He sat on top of that van all day, drink in hand, legs stretched out, soaking in the music drifting from the far-off stage. Sometimes he had friends with him. Sometimes he was up there completely alone — just vibing, watching the crowd, jamming, existing in his own little universe. Not bothering anyone. Not needing anything.

Except maybe food.

At some point, I realized: he’s been up there for hours. Drinking. In the sun. In the Alabama heat. So I did what any mom would do — I fed him. Nothing fancy. Just a burger to help him hold his liquor and stay grounded in that gravity-free state he was floating in. He smiled, said thank you, and went back to being the chillest person at Rock the South.

There was something oddly peaceful about him. Like he was there to remind us all to slow down, enjoy the music, take up space, and maybe not take everything so seriously.

Dude, wherever you are — thank you for being exactly who you were. You gave this festival a story we’ll tell forever. People wandered over just to talk to him, take pictures, and try to understand his vibe. I still don’t fully get it. But I took a series of pictures — and those say more than I ever could.

That van, that mustache, the overalls, that moment — it was the kind of weird, wonderful thing that happens when you say yes to the messy, unscripted magic of a weekend like this.