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| Yep, that simple lookin' young man was me in 1962, not having any idea what the rest of his life was gonna be. |
My Big Break Arrives In
The Mail, Postage Due. . .
I continued doing the radio shows with the Waymakers, recording most of the shows in the ranch house of the Boys Ranch. We even recorded, and paid for, a couple of custom albums for the Boys Ranch to help raise funds to carry on the work.
One day, in the early part of 1961, I was in the studio of radio station KWTO recording some of our radio shows, when the recording engineer, Wan Hope, asked me if I knew any country music songs. I said sure, (thinking about the old Bryce Canyon Troubadours, my country band on board ship in the Navy). He said he was setting up the controls and how about singing a couple, maybe three, songs for him. You must realize that I was a total gospel singer up to this point, without a thought of being a hillbilly singer. Well, Wan taped those songs I sang, and he sent them to Bob Tubert, who was running a publishing company for Si Siman, in Nashville, at the time. Bob had gone to school in Springfield, and later was part of the creative crew of the Ozark Jubilee. Bob took the demo of just me and my guitar, and those old country songs, to the grand old man of Columbia Records in Nashville; Don Law.
Don Law was an Englishman who was responsible for most of the great stars of the country music roster of Columbia Records, and one of the nicest gentlemen this music biz will ever know. Of course, at that time,I had never heard of Don Law in my life. So, when the phone rang at the Boys Ranch, and the man on the other end said, “Stan, this is Don Law of Columbia Records, ” it didn’t really ring any chimes in my head . . . but I was polite, just like Mama raised me to be. Don Law asked me to come to Nashville and talk to him, and, of course, I thought he wanted to talk about the Boys’ Ranch. I said, sure, I would be glad to come see him. I got the directions, and hung up. The next day I went into the radio station and asked Si Siman about Don Law. He proceeded to fill me in on just who this man was and told me that he had asked Bob Tubert to set up the meeting with him. Well, I don’t mean to sound dumb, but I was so consumed with what I was doing at the Boys’ Ranch that all I wanted to talk to him about was the work we were doing with the boys. By this time we had about thirty boys. We had put on house parents and set up a board of directors of some of the leading business people in the are, and the weekly radio shows were pretty well reaching all the surrounding 150 radius. The Ranch was doing well.
Anyway, I went on down to Nashville for the first time around April of ’62. I somehow found my way to Bob Tubert’s office, who then took me to Don Law’s office where we met with him. Don was the very epitome of kindness and warmth and I began to open up to him about the lives of these boys we were working with. He listened to my stories and then stopped me and said, “Sing me a song.” Well, he had a guitar over in the corner, so I picked it up and sang him a couple of good old gospel songs. Then, back to the story of the boys. Again, very quietly, he said, “Sing me another song.” A couple of hours later he finally pushed back from his desk, reached in the drawer for his checkbook and wrote me a check for five hundred dollars for a donation to the Boys’ Ranch. He shook my hand and said, “You’ll be hearing from me soon.” I was elated with the gift of the check and went on back to the ranch feeling like it had been a good trip and a wonderful opportunity to spread the word about homeless boys.
Three weeks later the postmaster up at the little country post office just a mile from the Ranch called and told me I had a big package from New York City. Shoot, I didn’t know anyone in New York City, but I went on up to the store, post office and gas station that served as the closest tie to outside civilization, and sure enough, there was a big manila envelope with my name on it postmarked New York City, and the Postmaster informed me there was .20 cents postage due. I come up with the change and opening it up, I found a long-term recording contract with Columbia Records and a new life that was just starting to peek around the corner, dumb luck or the fickle finger of fate? Beats me, but ain’t that a weird way to get into show biz?
By Fall of ’62 I had recorded my first record for Columbia’s Epic label, by November I had made a guest appearance on the Opry and was preparing to move to Nashville. By Christmas of ’62 I was in Nashville in one of the worst snow storms Middle Tennessee had ever seen. And the music, for me, has never stopped.
50 years later, I reckon that’s what I’ll do for the rest of my hillbilly life…slide along life’s slippery slope, sometimes going towards the ditch, sometimes climbing the mountain but always totally aware that God has His hand on me and when I start to fall, He gently steady’s me and pulls me back. Course, I’ll have to admit, sometimes when I am so bull headed and don’t feel His steady hand He jerks me around and really get’s my attention. But, He always loves me, imperfections and all. Thank you God, for your patience and mercy. -Stan
The Mail, Postage Due. . .
In 1959 I had been discharged from the Navy for a year, moved back to my Ozark home of Springfield, Missouri, and was helping in the startup of
The Good Samaritan Boys Ranch just outside of Springfield. I was
singing with a great group of young college kids called the Waymakers in
churches, brush arbors, local events and on radio around the Mid West.
I was living and working full time at the Ranch and really loving it.
Life was good and I figured this was what I would be doing for the rest
of my hillbilly life. Singing Gospel music and working with homeless
boys. . . . .
I continued doing the radio shows with the Waymakers, recording most of the shows in the ranch house of the Boys Ranch. We even recorded, and paid for, a couple of custom albums for the Boys Ranch to help raise funds to carry on the work.
One day, in the early part of 1961, I was in the studio of radio station KWTO recording some of our radio shows, when the recording engineer, Wan Hope, asked me if I knew any country music songs. I said sure, (thinking about the old Bryce Canyon Troubadours, my country band on board ship in the Navy). He said he was setting up the controls and how about singing a couple, maybe three, songs for him. You must realize that I was a total gospel singer up to this point, without a thought of being a hillbilly singer. Well, Wan taped those songs I sang, and he sent them to Bob Tubert, who was running a publishing company for Si Siman, in Nashville, at the time. Bob had gone to school in Springfield, and later was part of the creative crew of the Ozark Jubilee. Bob took the demo of just me and my guitar, and those old country songs, to the grand old man of Columbia Records in Nashville; Don Law.
Don Law was an Englishman who was responsible for most of the great stars of the country music roster of Columbia Records, and one of the nicest gentlemen this music biz will ever know. Of course, at that time,I had never heard of Don Law in my life. So, when the phone rang at the Boys Ranch, and the man on the other end said, “Stan, this is Don Law of Columbia Records, ” it didn’t really ring any chimes in my head . . . but I was polite, just like Mama raised me to be. Don Law asked me to come to Nashville and talk to him, and, of course, I thought he wanted to talk about the Boys’ Ranch. I said, sure, I would be glad to come see him. I got the directions, and hung up. The next day I went into the radio station and asked Si Siman about Don Law. He proceeded to fill me in on just who this man was and told me that he had asked Bob Tubert to set up the meeting with him. Well, I don’t mean to sound dumb, but I was so consumed with what I was doing at the Boys’ Ranch that all I wanted to talk to him about was the work we were doing with the boys. By this time we had about thirty boys. We had put on house parents and set up a board of directors of some of the leading business people in the are, and the weekly radio shows were pretty well reaching all the surrounding 150 radius. The Ranch was doing well.
Anyway, I went on down to Nashville for the first time around April of ’62. I somehow found my way to Bob Tubert’s office, who then took me to Don Law’s office where we met with him. Don was the very epitome of kindness and warmth and I began to open up to him about the lives of these boys we were working with. He listened to my stories and then stopped me and said, “Sing me a song.” Well, he had a guitar over in the corner, so I picked it up and sang him a couple of good old gospel songs. Then, back to the story of the boys. Again, very quietly, he said, “Sing me another song.” A couple of hours later he finally pushed back from his desk, reached in the drawer for his checkbook and wrote me a check for five hundred dollars for a donation to the Boys’ Ranch. He shook my hand and said, “You’ll be hearing from me soon.” I was elated with the gift of the check and went on back to the ranch feeling like it had been a good trip and a wonderful opportunity to spread the word about homeless boys.
Three weeks later the postmaster up at the little country post office just a mile from the Ranch called and told me I had a big package from New York City. Shoot, I didn’t know anyone in New York City, but I went on up to the store, post office and gas station that served as the closest tie to outside civilization, and sure enough, there was a big manila envelope with my name on it postmarked New York City, and the Postmaster informed me there was .20 cents postage due. I come up with the change and opening it up, I found a long-term recording contract with Columbia Records and a new life that was just starting to peek around the corner, dumb luck or the fickle finger of fate? Beats me, but ain’t that a weird way to get into show biz?
By Fall of ’62 I had recorded my first record for Columbia’s Epic label, by November I had made a guest appearance on the Opry and was preparing to move to Nashville. By Christmas of ’62 I was in Nashville in one of the worst snow storms Middle Tennessee had ever seen. And the music, for me, has never stopped.
50 years later, I reckon that’s what I’ll do for the rest of my hillbilly life…slide along life’s slippery slope, sometimes going towards the ditch, sometimes climbing the mountain but always totally aware that God has His hand on me and when I start to fall, He gently steady’s me and pulls me back. Course, I’ll have to admit, sometimes when I am so bull headed and don’t feel His steady hand He jerks me around and really get’s my attention. But, He always loves me, imperfections and all. Thank you God, for your patience and mercy. -Stan
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