This time of year always takes me back in time to my traveling music days-1959 to 1984, when I traveled the world with a guitar full of songs, a tote bag full of stage clothes and a fire in the belly to sing my songs to whomever would take the time to listen. There’s something about the cold of winter that brings back the road adventures.
You folks that have supported classic country music ever since there has been real, genuine from the heart country music, can remember what it was like to be a traveling singer/musician in the early years of country. First of all, in the 50’s and 60’s most of the travel was on two lane highways. My picker friends and I would show up in your towns in a station wagon pulling a trailer full of gear, or later in a van pulling the same trailer, and after that maybe a bus that had been tricked out kinda like a house trailer with bunks for the band and state room for the star and a lounge area in front next to the driver. Only the big money acts got the buses and the rest of us, on the same show circuits, got there however we could. Sometimes we could fly commercial, but that was a hassle because they either tended to break your guitars or lose them somehow in the process. Funny though, looking back to those early years, we were mostly all young and didn’t care how rough it was to drive all night, get there just in time for the show, do the show, pack up and drive all night to the next show town (usually, after partying some with the other pickers on the show) do the next show, repeat the same routine and finally get back home several days later, so strung out and wired that you had to drive around the block several times before you could go in and crash.
I remember one trip in particular, where I learned the lesson of strength of character in a person of power. It was about February of 1966 when I was booked on a show in Alpena, Michigan. On this show was Margie Bowes, then married to Doyle Wilburn, Jimmy Capps, who was playing guitar with Margie and myself, and headlined by the legendary Slim Whitman. Margie had a new Cadillac touring sedan and she invited me to ride and share expenses with her. Capps was along to back us up and help drive. We left Nashville on a cold and cloudy evening and by the time we reached Bowling Green, Kentucky in had started to snow….hard! We drove on into increasingly heavy snow all the way to Alpena, getting in about 3:00 the next afternoon. Of the three of us in the Cadillac, we probably didn’t have $100 between us, and only Margie had a credit card that was just about maxed out, so we used it for gas. We were counting on the show promoter paying us in cash, at the show, as was stated in our contracts. Margie and I were in the “starving artists” stage of our careers, and Capps was just getting started in his recording session work so he wasn’t flush yet either.
We finally snow plowed our way to Alpena and carried our guitars and clothes into the city auditorium dressing rooms where we found Slim Whitman already on the scene and tuning up his guitar. We all spent an hour or so visiting backstage and didn’t get a chance to look outside at the weather, and what a surprise when we finally did look out about 6PM. The snowstorm had turned into a massive blizzard and already half covered up our car and all the world around it. The show promoter was pacing up and down the hallway by our dressing rooms, while the local band was tuning up and doing sound check on stage behind the curtain. The show was set to start at 7:30 and about thirty minutes before show time I peeked out from behind the curtain and saw about 25 people straggling in, knocking snow off coats and hats, and getting seated. Well, Slim, Margie and I talked about it and fell back on the old show biz adage: “No matter what, the show must go on”. When the curtain was pulled to begin the show at 7:30 and I walked on with the local DJ introducing me, the crowd had grown to around 100 die-hard fans. I say die-hard because by now the roads were closed and they had to walk in the snow to get to us. I did my little numbers, Margie did hers, Capps backing us both up in his incredible talented way with the guitar and then Slim Whitman came out and you would have thought there were thousands of people in the audience, his marvelous tenor voice soaring and floating on the high notes of “Indian Love Call”, “Rose Marie” and the beautiful and haunting, “I Remember You”, sliding up and breaking his voice in such a perfect way it just brought chill bumps up on my arm. I stood in the wings, watching and listening to this master showman work this pitiful small crowd with everything he had. Finally, after several encores he left the stage and the show was over. We all changed into our traveling clothes and met back at Slim’s dressing room to wait for the promoter to come and settle up. We were standing there visiting and talking about the weather when the promoter showed up at the dressing room door. He walked in with a downcast look on his face, moved over in front of Slim and said the words that every entertainer has nightmares about, “Mr. Whitman, I’m sorry…..but, with the snow and all…..well, (he swallowed noisily)…well, I just don’t have the money to pay you folks. You did a great show, but the people just couldn’t get here…and….well, this is all the money I got…” He held out a small stack of bills to Slim, and said, “$400 is it” I heard Margie suck in her breath real deep, and I was so nervous bile was boiling in my stomach from all the coffee I had been drinking. I had no idea how we were going to afford gas to get back to Nashville, let alone buy anything to eat….oh man this is bad stuff….what are we gonna do? Then, a wonderful thing happened. Slim reached out and took the money from the promoter, carefully divided it up into two $200 dollar stacks, handed one stack to Margie and the other stack to me and said, “Let’s just give this to Margie and Stan and I’ll get mine later” Now, Slim was the headliner and the promoter knew he needed to pay the star first…..but, the star who had the power to keep it all for himself, instead passed it down to the supporting cast. That is real “character” in action. Something I have never forgotten, and always try to emulate. Because of the kindness of a star, Margie, Capps and I all got back to Nashville to live to sing and pick again, and ride off into the sunset singing, “Happy trails to you…..”. Yes, kids, some stories do end nicely, and it is possible to LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER!!
And the picture below is about how the roads in Alpena, Michigan looked on the day of this story in 1966. But Hillbilly Singers are tough and we just keep on tickin' kinda like a Timex. -Stan
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