In 1962, we were still running the store, and Coca-Cola did a promotion with all 50 states imprinted under plastic inside the bottle caps. Since we ran a store, I was able to get the card filled pretty quickly and gave it back to the Coke driver. If you got all 50 states and put them on the board and sent it in to Martinsville, Virginia, they had drawings for different prizes. The top prize was a fifty-dollar gift certificate for records at the Music Bar in Martinsville.
Sometime the next week, someone told me at school that they had heard on Martinsville radio that I had won. Several days later we went to Martinsville, to the Coca-Cola plant, and sure enough they gave me this little box with a gift certificate in it for fifty dollars worth of records. That didn’t do me much good, as I didn’t have a record player. I simply took the certificate and put it in a drawer.
In the summer of 1963, I was trying to play an old guitar that my Uncles Bruce and John had pretty much discarded. The action on the neck was terrible. I would go through the old string boxes they had, find old strings they had taken off the good instruments, and I'd put them on the old guitar. I’d get in front of the mirror and pretend I was on stage somewhere.
Sometime during that summer, we were in Martinsville for some reason and I wandered into the Music Bar and mentioned that I had this gift certificate. The lady who ran the place was really nice and said they had wondered why it hadn’t been turned in. Fifty dollars in 1962 was a fair amount of money. After I explained that I didn’t have a record player she said I could use it on anything in the store…
Over the next few weeks, I saved the money I’d made in helping in tobacco, and on August 31st, we went to my Uncle Pete’s to prime tobacco (breaking two or three leaves from the stalk, getting them ready to be cured) and it started raining. We came back home and went to Martinsville. This time I took my gift certificate and purchased my first guitar -- a ZimGar. Never heard of that brand before or since. It was a big, pretty thing, but the action was high. Before long the neck started pulling loose and I took it back to the Music Bar. They gave me another one, and after a few months, the bridge came off. Again I took it back and got another one…I still have it today, but it isn’t any better than it was then.
I got that guitar on a Saturday, and that night at the dance, I saw one of the local boys for the last time. He was a few years older than me. I remember Kenny Collins coming in and going down stairs. I went down to get a Coke and he was sitting on the counter. On Sunday night, Kenny, Dean Shelton, and J.C. Corn had a wreck, and Kenny and J.C. were killed.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Banjos, Banjos, Banjos
I had seen the old "Country Song Round-Up" advertisements for Ode banjos -- Jamestown Star Route, Boulder Colorado -- they were classy looking banjos. Gibsons of that time had the square guitar-shaped peg heads, but the Odes were really good-looking.
I ordered one of Ode's catalogs and parts list. You could buy everything from them. This was 1964 and I was 12. I didn’t have too much to spend, so buying was out of the question at that point.
Earlier, in the fall of 1963, when we were selling tobacco, I had an idea. Tobacco farmers usually graded their tobacco in two or three grades and then had a bunch that they threw out called "trash." I asked mom and dad if I could have the trash. With their help, I saved and worked up the trash for sale. In order to have a few hundred pounds, I had to save it all season, until all the good tobacco was graded, and with the last sale, I sent my trash to the market. In those days tobacco farming was an art, unlike today, where they treat it like hay. It had be "tied" in "hands" and put on a basket for sale. I worked on the trash and got it ready for sale and, to my surprise, I got $65 dollars for it.
A Bacon Belmont
In 1964, I got my next good banjo -- a Bacon Belmont.
A neighbor (Robert Hall) had a Gibson RB-100 that he wanted $75 dollars for, but the neck had been broken, and when I wrote to Gibson, I got a letter back saying that they would install a new neck for $67.50...Heck, I didn’t even have the $75 dollars for the banjo. A short time after that, Clarence Hall told me he had a Gibson RB-150 that someone had brought to him to sell for $150 dollars...It was tobacco-chopping time in the late spring and we were working in the field. I asked dad if I could borrow a hundred and fifty dollars until I sold the trash that fall.....One of the most hurt looks came on his face when he paused and said, "I just don't have it." I felt so bad that I had even asked. I just wanted to roll time back and never ask it. I've always remembered that hurt look on his face. Both he and mom would always give us whatever they could, but the remembrance of that look on dad's face always stayed with me. During the summer before he passed in March of 2009, he and I were talking and I asked if he remembered that time I wanted to borrow a hundred and fifty dollars for a banjo. Well, he didn't remember and I was so glad that he didn't.
That fall, I again asked mom and dad if I could have the trash, and I tied it for sale.
I went with my uncle John Hutchens who took the tobacco to the warehouse in Martinsville, Virginia, on a Saturday. While he was at the warehouse, I went up to the Patrick Henry Mall to the Music Bar. They had moved out to the Mall from Main Street, where I had purchased my first guitar.
They had a used Bacon Belmont banjo for $149.95. It was chrome and had pearloid on the resonator sides and had a hard-shell case with it. I had seen Larry Richardson playing a banjo similar to it on a TV show on Channel 8, High Point, North Carolina. I talked to the lady at the Music Bar and asked if they could do any better on the price. Finally she said she would take $129 dollars for it. I had my sights set on that banjo. I told them that I had some tobacco to sell on Monday and asked if they would hold it for me until then. I went back down to the warehouse and told uncle John. He went up with me to look at it, and after the tobacco sold on Monday, he was to go and buy it and bring it home.
I couldn’t sleep Saturday night or Sunday night. All day Monday, all I could think about at school was that that banjo would be mine when I got home.
When I got off the school bus, uncle John, mom, and dad were all sitting on the porch at the house. I bounced up the hill in anticipation, and when I walked in, uncle John said, "I’ve got some bad news." I had anticipated getting at least $130 or $140 dollars for the trash tobacco, but he said “It only brought 90 dollars and 38 cents," and he handed me the warehouse bill, showing me the tobacco sale amount.
My spirits immediately fell. I tried not to look disappointed, but I’m sure they could tell. After a few minutes, uncle John said, “But I went up to there and told them that that your tobacco didn’t bring what you thought it would, and they let me have it for $90 dollars.” I was overjoyed.
In the past few years, I started wondering: Did they actually let him have that banjo for $90 dollars or did he pay the additional? It would have been just like uncle John to have done it. He passed away a few years ago and I never asked him. I wish I had.
I ordered one of Ode's catalogs and parts list. You could buy everything from them. This was 1964 and I was 12. I didn’t have too much to spend, so buying was out of the question at that point.
Earlier, in the fall of 1963, when we were selling tobacco, I had an idea. Tobacco farmers usually graded their tobacco in two or three grades and then had a bunch that they threw out called "trash." I asked mom and dad if I could have the trash. With their help, I saved and worked up the trash for sale. In order to have a few hundred pounds, I had to save it all season, until all the good tobacco was graded, and with the last sale, I sent my trash to the market. In those days tobacco farming was an art, unlike today, where they treat it like hay. It had be "tied" in "hands" and put on a basket for sale. I worked on the trash and got it ready for sale and, to my surprise, I got $65 dollars for it.
A Bacon Belmont
In 1964, I got my next good banjo -- a Bacon Belmont.
A neighbor (Robert Hall) had a Gibson RB-100 that he wanted $75 dollars for, but the neck had been broken, and when I wrote to Gibson, I got a letter back saying that they would install a new neck for $67.50...Heck, I didn’t even have the $75 dollars for the banjo. A short time after that, Clarence Hall told me he had a Gibson RB-150 that someone had brought to him to sell for $150 dollars...It was tobacco-chopping time in the late spring and we were working in the field. I asked dad if I could borrow a hundred and fifty dollars until I sold the trash that fall.....One of the most hurt looks came on his face when he paused and said, "I just don't have it." I felt so bad that I had even asked. I just wanted to roll time back and never ask it. I've always remembered that hurt look on his face. Both he and mom would always give us whatever they could, but the remembrance of that look on dad's face always stayed with me. During the summer before he passed in March of 2009, he and I were talking and I asked if he remembered that time I wanted to borrow a hundred and fifty dollars for a banjo. Well, he didn't remember and I was so glad that he didn't.
That fall, I again asked mom and dad if I could have the trash, and I tied it for sale.
I went with my uncle John Hutchens who took the tobacco to the warehouse in Martinsville, Virginia, on a Saturday. While he was at the warehouse, I went up to the Patrick Henry Mall to the Music Bar. They had moved out to the Mall from Main Street, where I had purchased my first guitar.
They had a used Bacon Belmont banjo for $149.95. It was chrome and had pearloid on the resonator sides and had a hard-shell case with it. I had seen Larry Richardson playing a banjo similar to it on a TV show on Channel 8, High Point, North Carolina. I talked to the lady at the Music Bar and asked if they could do any better on the price. Finally she said she would take $129 dollars for it. I had my sights set on that banjo. I told them that I had some tobacco to sell on Monday and asked if they would hold it for me until then. I went back down to the warehouse and told uncle John. He went up with me to look at it, and after the tobacco sold on Monday, he was to go and buy it and bring it home.
I couldn’t sleep Saturday night or Sunday night. All day Monday, all I could think about at school was that that banjo would be mine when I got home.
When I got off the school bus, uncle John, mom, and dad were all sitting on the porch at the house. I bounced up the hill in anticipation, and when I walked in, uncle John said, "I’ve got some bad news." I had anticipated getting at least $130 or $140 dollars for the trash tobacco, but he said “It only brought 90 dollars and 38 cents," and he handed me the warehouse bill, showing me the tobacco sale amount.
My spirits immediately fell. I tried not to look disappointed, but I’m sure they could tell. After a few minutes, uncle John said, “But I went up to there and told them that that your tobacco didn’t bring what you thought it would, and they let me have it for $90 dollars.” I was overjoyed.
In the past few years, I started wondering: Did they actually let him have that banjo for $90 dollars or did he pay the additional? It would have been just like uncle John to have done it. He passed away a few years ago and I never asked him. I wish I had.
The Baldwin Banjo
Doug Hutchens with Baldwin Style D banjo #519In the late summer of 1967, Cam Joyce decided to sell one of his banjos. He had a Gibson banjo he had gotten from Larry Richardson and a Style D Baldwin that he had ordered in September of 1966 and it had been delivered to Melody Haven Music in Roanoke in April of 1967.
The word got around that he would sell either for $600. Marshall Hall had said that he had it and might go ahead and buy the Baldwin. In thinking back, I think Cam probably had pawned it to Marshall for less than the $600.
Dad and I went up to Cam’s house and he said he would trade the Baldwin for my Bacon if I’d give him the $450 difference between them. I had been saving Kennedy half dollars in a microphone tube, so I took them to the old bank downtown in Stuart and turned $450 worth of half dollars in for cash and called Cam and told him I could do the deal.
This was the second Saturday in November when he brought the banjo down to our house and I gave him the Bacon and the cash and became the proud owner of a Baldwin Style D banjo.
Doug Hutchens with Style D Baldwin Serial number 519. Summer 1968. With a hand tooled strap made for him by Troy Brammer...
During the summer of 1971, while I was working with Bill Monroe, I came home one weekend and Cam heard that I was home. He came down and asked if I ever sold the banjo, would I give him first refusal, to which I agreed. He said that his little boy, named Doug, too, always talked about that pretty banjo and if I ever sold it, he would like to buy it back.
The next summer Cam got killed in a truck wreck.
Years later, I was talking to Clarence Hall one night and he mentioned that Doug Joyce had asked about the banjo that I had bought from his Dad. He asked if I would be interested in selling it to him.
I had to think about this a little, but I decided that if Doug wanted it, I would sell it back to him for what his dad had wanted for it, $600. But if he ever sold it, I was to get first refusal at the same price. After a few years Doug Joyce called one day and said “I don’t guess you’d want this Baldwin banjo back, would you?” I said if you are going to sell it, I will buy it. The value had appreciated, but he sold it back to me at the same price. I still have it today, having hopefully done what Cam would have appreciated in letting his son have it until he was ready to move on.
During the summer of 1971, while I was working with Bill Monroe, I came home one weekend and Cam heard that I was home. He came down and asked if I ever sold the banjo, would I give him first refusal, to which I agreed. He said that his little boy, named Doug, too, always talked about that pretty banjo and if I ever sold it, he would like to buy it back.
The next summer Cam got killed in a truck wreck.
Years later, I was talking to Clarence Hall one night and he mentioned that Doug Joyce had asked about the banjo that I had bought from his Dad. He asked if I would be interested in selling it to him.
I had to think about this a little, but I decided that if Doug wanted it, I would sell it back to him for what his dad had wanted for it, $600. But if he ever sold it, I was to get first refusal at the same price. After a few years Doug Joyce called one day and said “I don’t guess you’d want this Baldwin banjo back, would you?” I said if you are going to sell it, I will buy it. The value had appreciated, but he sold it back to me at the same price. I still have it today, having hopefully done what Cam would have appreciated in letting his son have it until he was ready to move on.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Cosby Tennessee July 2nd,3rd,4th.
After we got back from Columbus on Monday morning, the 28th:
I honestly don’t know where I thought I was going to stay after I went with the band. Thinking back, I don’t think it ever crossed my mind. I was just caught up in the moment and not thinking, and definitely not planning ahead.
After we pulled in the parking lot beside a little restaurant and across from the Astor Court Motel at 1298 Dickerson Road there in Goodlettsville, Bill paid everyone, and Joe and Kenny were getting their clothes and instruments off the bus.
The motel was run by the Moores. Kenny Baker said that when he came to Nashville the first time in the 50s, he lived at the motel, so they weren't strangers to entertainers renting rooms. I would occasionally check in down there for a night, just to get a good hot shower.
I honestly don’t know where I thought I was going to stay after I went with the band. Thinking back, I don’t think it ever crossed my mind. I was just caught up in the moment and not thinking, and definitely not planning ahead.
After we pulled in the parking lot beside a little restaurant and across from the Astor Court Motel at 1298 Dickerson Road there in Goodlettsville, Bill paid everyone, and Joe and Kenny were getting their clothes and instruments off the bus.
The motel was run by the Moores. Kenny Baker said that when he came to Nashville the first time in the 50s, he lived at the motel, so they weren't strangers to entertainers renting rooms. I would occasionally check in down there for a night, just to get a good hot shower.
Joe was the first to ask me where I was going to stay. Honestly, that had not crossed my mind. He invited me to go out and stay with him. I just said “I’m going to stay on the bus." I needed some time to digest what was happening. Baker, too, asked me to go out to his place with him. Again I said, “I’ll just stay on the bus.” Baker asked if I had any clothes that needed to go the laundry. I rounded up my white shirts and black pants that I’d worn over the weekend and he took them with him to his to the laundry. Then he asked me if I would like to go up to Jenkins, Kentucky, with him on Wednesday.
About noon on Wednesday, Kenny came out to the bus. He had picked up our clothes at the laundry. (In the tag of all my clothes, it had "Baker" written with a laundry marker. I kept those clothes for years after. I couldn't wear them anymore, just for the memories.) We headed up to Jenkins. He put me to driving and that was the first time I ever had been through Knoxville. I was amazed; I had never seen the highway up over a city. We hit town about rush hour in the afternoon with a little shower of rain falling. It was an interesting trip.
We went over to Kingsport, up through Gate City, Big Stone Gap, and Norton, then into Jenkins. Once we got past Kingsport, I was familiar with the road there, having driven it on the way from home to Berea the previous school year. We visited his mother and some friends around town before we headed out for Cosby on Thursday morning.
This was James’ first festival at Kineauvista Park, July 2nd, 3rd and 4th, 1971. Joe Stuart and Danny Jones had come down with Bill and brought the bus. (Jack Hicks wasn’t with them because he had gone back to Ashland with his folks the week before, after Columbus.)
James had a good lineup of talent: Lester Flatt, the Goins Brothers, Jim & Jesse, Don Reno, Red Smiley & Bill Harrell, Carl Story, and Clyde Moody.
The Bluegrass Alliance had been very popular at Bean Blossom two weeks before, so James had hired them for the festival. I really liked Courtney Johnson's banjo playing and we became good friends.
Courtney and I became friends and he gave me his address on the back of a card of the BlueGrass Alliance.
I had the opportunity to see some people for the first time there. For Friday night, James hired Bonnie Lou and Buster Moore. They had a Knoxville TV program and that was good local advertising. I had seen their "Jim Walter Jubilee" for several years, as it was syndicated in our area. I always enjoyed L.E. White and, especially, Bill Chambers' banjo playing. This was the first time I saw David Deese in person, too. I had watched him with Red Smiley on TV at Roanoke before he was drafted. I think he came up with the Jones Brothers, who were working with Carl Story at the time.
It was hot, hot, hot there that weekend. There was no shade where the stage was, so they put up a huge tent for the audience.
On the Sunday gospel show, I almost played banjo. Jack was late for the show, and Bill told me to get my banjo. The bus was parked way up on the hill, and it was only about ten minutes before we were to go on. About that time, Courtney Johnson had heard Bill tell me to get a banjo. So he came to the stage with his banjo, and I was getting it tuned up when Jack showed up at the last moment.
On our Sunday afternoon show, Lester Flatt was to follow us, and Uncle Josh joined us on the dobro that afternoon. He and Bill had picked some at a party at the house on the hill a couple of nights before. Bill had gone through the introductions, and we were getting ready to do “Sitting on Top of the World” when Bill invited Josh to join us, saying that he "was going to put in some blues." After that number Josh started to leave and Bill said 'just stay with us, we need all the help we can get'.
The band consisted of Kenny Baker and Joe Stuart on twin Fiddles, Jack Hicks on banjo, Danny Jones on Guitar and myself on the bass.
Josh played the remainder of the show with us, with he and Bill improvising a neat version of “Evening Prayer Blues.” I remember Bill told the audience to imagine a “colored meeting house and they would be praying every now and then, saying 'Praise the Lord,' and right on down.” Bill said that it was a Deford Bailey tune from years ago. None of us knew the tune, and Bill had to set the timing with the mandolin and we all followed. Josh and Bill had a great time.
Over the years many have thought that Bill didn't like the dobro, I don't think he had any bad feelings about the instrument. But the fact was, it just didn't fit into his music.
On Sunday afternoon, Bill recreated his version of “The History of Blue Grass,” similar to Carlton’s “Story.” Clyde Moody was there and did “Columbus Stockade Blues” and “In the Pines.” Carl Story was on the show. The Goins Brothers played, then Roland White did a tune with Bill. Jim and Jesse did a couple of songs with Bill, then James, who had just left the Blue Grass Boys about a month before to start his own group, sang with Bill. I remember they did “Tall Pines" (one of the first times I‘d ever heard it). Then Lester and Bill did their reunion tunes. They stole the show.
We stayed around until Monday morning before heading back to Nashville.
That morning, James was taking care of things and getting ready to leave when he realized that there was a huge banner over the highway that needed to be taken down.
The Blue Grass Alliance were still there, too, so Courtney Johnson pulled their bus over to one side of the highway and Tony Rice and I got up on their bus and untied one side of the banner, as Courtney moved the bus to the other side of the highway so we could untie the other side. We had to walk backward and forward on top of the bus, to keep from being pulled off by the banner -- just one more of those special, weird memories.
Jack went back to Ashland with his parents. Joe Stuart went over and visited some family from near Greenback, Tennessee. Kenny Baker had his car there, so that left Dan Jones and me to take Bill and the bus back to Nashville. Some friends of Bill wanted to catch rides back toward “Town" (Nashville). So there was Dan and I to do the driving from Cosby to Nashville. Surprisingly, we had no problems and Bill bragged on us. That always made us feel good, to get good words from him.
Fiddlers Conventions...Late 60's.
By the late 60s, the Virginia-Carolina dance had about played out, but about this time, I had gotten to the point where I could play some on the banjo.
In 1967, the first time I ever played out anywhere except the dances was at the Collinsville Recreation Center's Fiddlers Convention. Camden Joyce played banjo with Cecil Hall and a band that Cecil he had put together on Friday night, but he couldn’t play on Saturday night. Cecil asked if I could play with them. Cam was a great banjo player and I’ll never forget him playing that Friday night.
They did “Just Because” and he really sounded good. On Saturday night, we only played one tune. I can’t remember the fiddler but he played “Bear Creek Hop.” We didn’t place in the top 5 groups.
Then, by 1968, Doug and Larry Cobbler and I had met Henry and Louis Mabe. We met on a Wednesday night in May and went to Boones Mill, Virginia, to a Fiddlers Convention that weekend and came in second that Saturday night.
In 1967, the first time I ever played out anywhere except the dances was at the Collinsville Recreation Center's Fiddlers Convention. Camden Joyce played banjo with Cecil Hall and a band that Cecil he had put together on Friday night, but he couldn’t play on Saturday night. Cecil asked if I could play with them. Cam was a great banjo player and I’ll never forget him playing that Friday night.
They did “Just Because” and he really sounded good. On Saturday night, we only played one tune. I can’t remember the fiddler but he played “Bear Creek Hop.” We didn’t place in the top 5 groups.
Then, by 1968, Doug and Larry Cobbler and I had met Henry and Louis Mabe. We met on a Wednesday night in May and went to Boones Mill, Virginia, to a Fiddlers Convention that weekend and came in second that Saturday night.
Cecil Hall and Henry Mabe at Collinsville in the fiddle competiton, November 1968.Henry was a good fiddler and Louis, a good mandolin player. When we competed at Collinsville, we didn’t place as a band, but Henry won second on the fiddle.
Henry getting his ribbon and check, November 1968,
Marshall Hall in the folk singing competition.
Lavonia Georgia July 31st and August 1st.
At Shoals Creek Country Music Park in Lavonia, Georgia, we worked Saturday and Sunday, July 31st and August 1st.
Saturday afternoon there was a bad thunderstorm that stopped the afternoon shows. After the storm, everyone experienced the red Georgia clay. It stuck to your shoes like chewing gum.
The Saturday night show was an interesting one. Joe Stuart and I were sitting in the front of the bus when Bill came in. I immediately got up and moved over to make room for him, and as he sat down, he asked if I would mind if “That Corum boy” (Pete Corum) played bass tonight....At first, I didn’t know how to take what he was asking, but I said, "Sure." Bill continued that Pete had helped parking cars at Bean Blossom for several days in all the rain and hot weather and wouldn’t take a cent for it.....All he wanted to do was play bass on one show....That was fine with me. So, I was sitting up front in the bus while they were all in the back getting dressed.
In a few minutes Bill came out first....He looked over at me and said, “Aren’t you going to get ready?” I said, "I thought you said Pete was going to play bass tonight." Bill said, “Well, you and Jack can play twin banjos can’t you?” I said, "Well, I guess so," so I got dressed.
It began as a typical Bill Monroe show. Jack and I were swapping back and forth with banjo breaks. Three or four tunes into the set, Jack winked at me as he went in for a break. He promptly broke a string. I moved in and finished the break, and as he went by me, he said, “You take care of things out here.” Jack didn’t come back. It was Jack’s way of letting me play banjo. In a talented group like this, it would have been easy for egos to flourish, but this was a great bunch of guys -- no egos and everyone was always good to each other. Jack knew I loved to play the banjo. It was the same way in Montreal later in the summer, when Jack missed a show and Joe Stuart could have played banjo. But Joe said, "You go ahead and do it," knowing what it would mean to me. These guys were wonderful to work with. I can’t remember a cross word spoken between anyone in the band the whole time I was there.
Bill started inviting people to come out and play a tune on his show: Mac Wiseman, Red Rector, the Country Gentlemen, Rual Yarbrough and Jake Landers. Everyone who was on the show that day, I think, came out and did a tune or two with him.
A night to remember for sure.....
Saturday afternoon there was a bad thunderstorm that stopped the afternoon shows. After the storm, everyone experienced the red Georgia clay. It stuck to your shoes like chewing gum.
The Saturday night show was an interesting one. Joe Stuart and I were sitting in the front of the bus when Bill came in. I immediately got up and moved over to make room for him, and as he sat down, he asked if I would mind if “That Corum boy” (Pete Corum) played bass tonight....At first, I didn’t know how to take what he was asking, but I said, "Sure." Bill continued that Pete had helped parking cars at Bean Blossom for several days in all the rain and hot weather and wouldn’t take a cent for it.....All he wanted to do was play bass on one show....That was fine with me. So, I was sitting up front in the bus while they were all in the back getting dressed.
In a few minutes Bill came out first....He looked over at me and said, “Aren’t you going to get ready?” I said, "I thought you said Pete was going to play bass tonight." Bill said, “Well, you and Jack can play twin banjos can’t you?” I said, "Well, I guess so," so I got dressed.
It began as a typical Bill Monroe show. Jack and I were swapping back and forth with banjo breaks. Three or four tunes into the set, Jack winked at me as he went in for a break. He promptly broke a string. I moved in and finished the break, and as he went by me, he said, “You take care of things out here.” Jack didn’t come back. It was Jack’s way of letting me play banjo. In a talented group like this, it would have been easy for egos to flourish, but this was a great bunch of guys -- no egos and everyone was always good to each other. Jack knew I loved to play the banjo. It was the same way in Montreal later in the summer, when Jack missed a show and Joe Stuart could have played banjo. But Joe said, "You go ahead and do it," knowing what it would mean to me. These guys were wonderful to work with. I can’t remember a cross word spoken between anyone in the band the whole time I was there.
Bill started inviting people to come out and play a tune on his show: Mac Wiseman, Red Rector, the Country Gentlemen, Rual Yarbrough and Jake Landers. Everyone who was on the show that day, I think, came out and did a tune or two with him.
A night to remember for sure.....
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Knob Noster Missouri July 23-25th
This was Herman Smith’s first attempt at a bluegrass festival.
We pulled in just before noon on Friday, and I remember Joe saying that Rual (Yarbrough) and Jake (Landers), both of whom were good friends of Bill, were going to be working that festival. Shortly after getting the bus situated, we all went in different directions, checking out the grounds. The park had only been finished a few days before; the tracks of a bulldozer were still fresh in the roadway.
We parked in a little grove of trees, not far from the entrance to the park, next to a woven wire fence. Soon other entertainers began arriving.
We pulled in just before noon on Friday, and I remember Joe saying that Rual (Yarbrough) and Jake (Landers), both of whom were good friends of Bill, were going to be working that festival. Shortly after getting the bus situated, we all went in different directions, checking out the grounds. The park had only been finished a few days before; the tracks of a bulldozer were still fresh in the roadway.
We parked in a little grove of trees, not far from the entrance to the park, next to a woven wire fence. Soon other entertainers began arriving.
James Bryan, Rual Yarbrough, William Smith, and Jake Landers.
On Saturday afternoon, Joe Stuart, Rual Yarbrough, and Jake Landers were sitting along the fence singing. Jake had his guitar, and Rual and Joe were singing harmony. Jake was already known as a good songwriter and was sharing some of his latest efforts.
Joe Stuart loved to sing, and while they were singing, Bill Emerson of the Country Gentlemen walked by, on the way to the stage…he stopped, turned around, and listened for a while. A conversation ensued and he sent back to the bus for a tape recorder, on which he taped “The Secret of the Waterfall.” It was subsequently recorded by the Gentlemen for "The Award-Winning Country Gentlemen” album. He also had Jimmy Gaudreau and Charlie Waller come by and listen to some of Jake's songs. One, “My Last Request,” Charlie said he really liked. I’m sure he never recorded it, but I would have loved to hear Charlie sing that tune. He could have done it justice.
James, Rual, William, and Jake.
I enjoyed my first trip west of the Mississippi. Some other great friends that I had seen at Bean Blossom a few weeks before were there, The Calton Family. Charles and Inez had two beautiful daughters, Randie and Brenda, and I enjoyed their shows.
( In doing some internet searching my heart is heavy to find that Inez passed....I called her several years ago and she said that she was having some health problems....I asked about the girls...Brenda and Randie.....Brenda was on the radio doing a commercial as we spoke and she held the phone to the radio....She said that she was undergoing treatment......I did not follow up...I'm so sorry it took this long to follow up....http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GSln=Calton&GScnty=1449&GRid=70802792& )
The Calton Family: Gordon Wilfong on banjo, Inez, Randie, Charles (hidden behind Randie), and Brenda.
After the festival, on Sunday night, we headed back to Nashville. Jack was really getting into driving. He had driven all night and, early the next morning, we were awakened by the engine racing. The bus slowed, then stopped. Everyone got up and went up front, then outside. Jack had already opened the tailgate of the coach. Joe and Kenny seemed to know what he problem was, so Joe started thumbing and went into town and, before long, he returned with a gentleman in a tow truck. We were pulled into Mayfield, Kentucky, where we spent a good portion of the day getting a flywheel pressed back on the motor. Then we headed back to "Town."
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