Lots of people seem eager to pounce of entertainer's problems with such
gusto and hatefulness, but those same people many times were the ones in
the good times who wanted to get close, to touch, to
get an autograph, to have their picture made...whatever, to fill their
scrapbooks. I guess I've known them all as entertainers and friends,
the past 55 years of swimming in the shark filled waters of the music
business. My mentor, the man that encouraged me more than anyone to get
into the business of music, was Red Foley. This was the saddest case
of burden filled life after celebrity that I have ever witnessed and
watched from very close up. Red Foley was one of the finest men I ever
met. He was real. He was genuine. He meant it when you saw tears in
his eyes, on his Network Television show, "Ozark Jubilee", and he sang
everything from his very heart. He helped more entertainers get started
than you could count, Porter Wagoner, Brenda Lee, Bobby Lord, Billy Walker, The Browns, Leroy VanDyke, on and on, including the great
songwriter Wayne Carson and yours truly, Stan Hitchcock. It did it with
no thought of gain on his part, he just did it because he was a good
man. Red Foley had a huge tragedy in his life, at the height of his
Opry stardom, when he was host of the Prince Albert Smoking Tobacco
Grand Ole Opry on NBC radio. In 1951, his wife and mother of his
children committed suicide. Red left Nashville and moved to my
hometown of Springfield, MO later in that same year and that was the
start of the greatest country music network television show that has
ever been. Ozark Jubilee took country music to a new dimension of
popularity and it was because of this great man's genuine genius for
music and entertainment. Today, you scarcely hear his name mentioned in
the country music circles of radio, records or television. But he was a
giant. He was also, after he came to my hometown, a hopeless
alcoholic, and our local paper, in Springfield, MO would make great to
do about his slip ups and slid downs in his personal life. The
same people that had cheered when he came to town to start the show and
bring in the tourist dollars, were the first to shake their heads and
put him down in their conversations. I was involved in the start up of a
church in Springfield in 1960, i was also just getting started in
country music at Mr. Foley's urging. Red asked me to go on a Fair Tour
with him and sing on his stage show. I did and it was great to learn
from the old master, but also sad to see him, at the end of each show,
be handed a tall bottle of Vodka, chug a lug it down til he passed out
and had to be carried back to the Hotel to sleep it off. Before he
passed out he would sometimes ask me to sing him a gospel song, just me
and my guitar, back in the dressing room. He would cry, and then he
would be gone for another night. When I got back to Springfield to the
church next Sunday, the good leaders of the church called me in for a
meeting. The head of the deacons, a very powerful man in Springfield at
the time, asked me, "Stan we hear you been traveling with Red Foley and
singing on his shows". Yessir, sure have. Then, in his most
sanctimonious voice (like one of the Saints himself) he said, "Well, we
here at the Church cannot have that, Mr. Foley is a drunk, and you have
to make up your mind to either be with us or go on and be with him!" I
didn't even have to answer, the look on my face was enough, as I turned
and left that bunch of do gooders and walked away, never to darken their
particular door again. Several years later, after I had moved to
Nashville and taken up my place in the scheme of things in country music
as an artist and performer, I was at the Nashville airport fixing to
leave for a gig, just as Red Foley was coming in from one of his. We
embraced in the walkway, and he said, "Stan, the doctor told me if I had
another drink it would probably kill me, so I have quit and am leaving
it alone." I was thrilled at the news that he had overcome his pain
deadener, alcohol, and went on my way. That was the last time I saw
Red, in this life. A few months later, on another Fair tour, this time
with Hank Williams, Jr. After the show, next morning at the Hotel,
Hank Jr went to rouse Red and go to breakfast together. He knocked and
no answer. When the manager got the door open, they found Red lying
across the bed, still in his stage clothes from the night before. He
had finally found, "Peace In The Valley", and I can't even type this
without choking up. God bless the weak, the sick, the burdened, the
addicted, the ones that carry so much grief inside, the ones who only
started out wanting to sing a song and make people listen and maybe
touch a life while they were doing it. I am glad I got to know you Mr.
Foley, and I am glad I chose to be your friend, no matter what. -Stan
No comments:
Post a Comment