Never Look at the Empty Seats
Page 28
God had done it again. He had granted me another deeply held desire of my heart.
Hazel, Little Charlie, Dean, Paula, Bebe, Angela, David, and his wife, Carolyn, were in the room when Sarah told me. Nobody but David knew it was going to happen, and it was a pretty emotional time for the CDB family.
We were told to keep it a secret until the formal announcement would be made in a couple of weeks, and all three 2016 inductees would be made known at the same time.
I didn’t even know who the other two inductees were.
The day of the formal announcement arrived, and we headed for the Hall of Fame to let the world know.
When I got there, I found out that the other two inductees were Fred Foster and Randy Travis.
Fred Foster is a legendary behind-the-scenes figure around Nashville in record production and publishing, founder of Monument Records.
Randy Travis needs no introduction. The singer’s down-home, earthy voice personified country music for so many in the 1980s and 1990s.
The weeks between the formal announcement and the induction were busy with interviews, Hall of Fame events leading up to the induction, and, of course, our usual slate of concert dates. But no matter what I was doing, it was always in the back of my mind what was going to happen on October 16, when I would get my first look at the plaque with my likeness that would hang on the walls along with so many of my heroes.
Of course I was elated, excited, anxious, and all the feelings one would be expected to experience in anticipation of such a singular honor. But the two emotions I felt the strongest were gratitude and humility.
I asked my friend and Hall of Fame member Brenda Lee to induct me. On a beautiful October afternoon, we arrived en masse at the Country Music Hall of Fame: family, friends, and employees.
After the walk down the red carpet, media interviews, and receptions, we went into the CMA theater for the ceremony. Here’s how I remember it.
As I write this, it is the morning after the night before. The night before being the night I was inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame.
The class of 2016 inductees are all from North Carolina. Randy Travis, Fred Foster, and I are all Tarheels, which as near as I can determine is a first.
Fred and Randy were both in wheelchairs. Fred had had some health issues, and as is well known, Randy suffered a debilitating stroke in 2013. It affected his motor skills and his speech, which he has been working very hard to regain. Just being there spoke of his great inner strength.
The folks at the Hall of Fame did such a great job and made the evening so special, full of memories and surprises, with a slate of performers and presenters that included Garth Brooks, Vince Gill, Dolly Parton, Brandy Clark, Alan Jackson, Brad Paisley, and Kris Kristofferson.
I knew that someone was going to do some of our songs but had no idea who. When Trisha Yearwood walked onstage and just killed “It Hurts Me,” I was as surprised as anybody in the building.
Jamey Johnson came out and did one of the best versions of “Long Haired Country Boy” I’ve ever heard. Then Trace Adkins and violinist Andrea Zonn came on and rocked “The Devil Went Down to Georgia.”
Then it was time to walk onstage, let Brenda Lee put the medallion around my neck, and get a look at the plaque that will hang on the wall beside so many of my heroes.
This was my acceptance speech:
The grandiose words it would require to adequately describe the sea of gratitude and the mountain of honor I’m feeling tonight simply do not exist in my vocabulary. I’m not sure if the words to describe the emotions I’m feeling in my heart right now exist at all.
When I look around me at the images of those who I have admired, respected, and emulated, whose very shoulders I stand on, to think that I will be represented in that same manner and on those same walls is a very humbling thought indeed.
A plaque on these walls is not just an award or an accolade. It is a page in a history book, an unending history book, a story that will go on and on as long as talented young men and women with desire in their hearts and fire in their bellies continue to write and perform the songs, travel the miles, and pay the dues.
Many of the faces on these walls laid the foundation and established the infrastructure for those of us who would follow in their footsteps, taking their music down two-lane blacktops into the mountains and swamps to the common folks whose lives their songs reflected.
Through depressions and wars they sung their tunes about lonesome freight train whistles and love gone wrong, played the hoedowns and drinking songs, and helped America remember that no matter how dark the days of war became, there was a star-spangled banner waving somewhere.
The Grand Ole Opry was the force that brought it all together. As the first true stars like Roy Acuff and Ernest Tubb began to emerge, their songs boomed across the Southeast and Midwest on the airwaves of the clear channel voice of 650 WSM. Young men glued themselves to the radio every Saturday night and dared to dream about one day being a part of this wonderful thing that was happening in Nashville, Tennessee.
I know because I was one of them. From the time I learned my first three chords, my life has been devoted to the creation and performing of my music.
It’s been a rewarding life, an exciting life, and I would do it all over again in the twinkling of an eye.
For me to acknowledge this most distinguished recognition I must also acknowledge the fact that I would not be standing here were it not for the love and loyalty of my wife and son, the fact that God has granted me yet another desire of my heart, and that I have been surrounded by some of the most incredible people who have stuck it out with me and had my back through some heavy storms.
I’ve often been asked what is my most cherished accomplishment, and my answer never varies. It’s keeping twenty-five people gainfully and steadily employed for more than forty years.
It’s been a great ride, gang. We’re still in the saddle, and it ain’t over by a long shot. Bring it on.
The acknowledgments I make tonight would not be complete without recognizing my dear friend and mentor Bob Johnston, who brought me to Nashville in 1967. Bob passed away a few months ago, but I know if he was here he would take great joy in this event.
So with the greatest respect for the past and the greatest aspirations for the future, as I humbly accept this indescribable honor desired by so many and attained by so few, I realize just how blessed I am.
Long live country music.
God bless Music City.
Thank you.
What happened that night is the culmination of sixty years of miles, dreams, grit, and determination, of a few disappointments and a lot of encouragement, of a few giant steps and a million baby steps, of trial and error, of lessons learned the hard way, of anxiety and fulfillment.
But, as satisfying and prestigious as this most-sought-after award may be, the story doesn’t end here. It’s not a stop sign but a “go” sign, as I will continue my career as long as circumstances allow or until the Lord calls me home.
I still have far horizons that I know are there but haven’t laid eyes on yet. A jigsaw of bits and pieces of music and lyrics I have to put together, places I haven’t seen, people I haven’t met, thrills and excitement I haven’t experienced.
My life stretches out before me. I can’t see around the curves to tell how far it reaches, but you can bet that however many miles the journey, be it many or few, I will travel it with gratitude and take my music with me. When the time comes, I want to go out with a song in my heart and praises to God on my lips.
All things considered, what more could I possibly ask?
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My eternal gratitude to:
Hazel, my wife, and Charlie, my son, without whose love, patience, and encouragement I would have never left the starting blocks.
My manager, David Corlew, who has had my back through the valleys and across the mountaintops.
Bebe Evans for patiently seeing me through
multiple incarnations of this book over the past twenty years.
Paula Szeigis for her never-ending sense of optimism.
DeAnna Winn, Angela Wheeler, and J.B. Copeland for filling in the gaps.
My ninth-grade English teacher, Mrs. Ethel Oldham, for helping to develop my lifelong interest in literature.
Our typist, Elaine Roberts, who corrected copious amounts of spelling and made sense of my outlandish vernacular.
I want to thank God for helping me discover a talent I didn’t even know I had.
NOTES
1.Johnny Mercer (lyrics) and Harold Arlen (music), “Ac-Cent-Tchu-Ate the Positive,” released by Capitol Records, 1944.
2.Lewis E. Jones (1865–1936), “There Is Power in the Blood,” 1899.
3.Merriam-Webster Online, s.v. “inane,” accessed July 26, 2017, https://www. merriam-webster.com/dictionary/inane.
4.Woody Guthrie, “Lonesome Valley,” 1963, 1977, http://www.woodyguthrie.org/Lyrics/Lonesome_Valley.htm.
PHOTOS
Age 5, Carolina Beach
5th grade school picture, Goldston, NC
Mother, Dad, & me, circa 1940
Me & Hazel, 1964
Me, Little Charlie, & Hazel, Nashville 1968
Hazel, me, & Little Charlie in front of our house at Twin Pines, circa 1980
Little Charlie, me, & Hazel snowmobiling in the Rockies
Santa & Mrs. Claus
One of the greatest nights of my life introducing my grandmother to Roy Acuff
Shooting pictures for our Saddle Tramp album. L to R: Taz DiGregorio, Freddie Edwards, me, Don Murray, Charlie Hayward, Tommy Crain
With Mr. Acuff on the Opry
Presentation of our first Gold Album, Volunteer Jam II, 1975, Murphy Center, Murfreesboro, TN. L to R: Art Cass, Wade Conklin, Little Charlie, me
Bob Dylan, Fred Carter, me, Columbia Recording Studios, Nashville, TN, 1969
Taz DiGregorio: Jan. 8, 1944–Oct. 12, 2011
CDB on the set of Urban Cowboy with John Travolta. L to R: Taz DiGregorio, Freddie Edwards, me, John Travolta, Jim Marshall, Charlie Hayward
Getting set to heel a steer on my horse, Buck
Nothing like riding a good cutting horse
Fun on a cutting horse
Best houlihan loop I ever threw
With ranch manager, Thurman Mullins
With Reverend Billy Graham
Receiving my honorary doctor of letters degree from UNCW, 1996
Inserting a prayer into the Wailing Wall, Jerusalem
Sandstorm during our show in Al Asad, Iraq (photo by Dean Tubb)
David Corlew and me in Iraq
Camp Victory, Baghdad, Iraq, 2005
With the best blues artist in the world, B.B. King
With my friend Coach Phil Fulmer
With Dale Earnhardt in Talladega, AL (photo by Dean Tubb)
Jamming with Garth Brooks
With Mickey Mantle
Presenting a Quarterback Club Award to Peyton Manning
Willie and me
Bob Johnston—my mentor, my teacher, and above all, my friend
CDB office staff L to R: DeAnna Winn, Angela Wheeler, David Corlew, Paula Szeigis, Randy Owen, Charlie Daniels, Jr., Donna Copeland, J.B. Copeland, Carolyn Corlew, Bebe Evans
CDB road crew L to R: Bob Workman, Roger Campbell, Steve Morgan, Jimmy Burton, Jackie McClure, Jimmy Potts, Dean Tubb, Brian Madaris, Chris Potts
CDB at Country Music Hall of Fame (photo by Anna Webber/Getty Images for CMHOF & Museum)
Russell Palmer playing a song with CDB at my induction into the Grand Ole Opry
Acceptance speech at my induction into the Country Music Hall of Fame (photo by Jason Davis/Getty Images)
Country Music Hall of Fame, 2016
CDB present-day (photo by Erick Anderson) L to R: Chris Wormer, Ron Gannaway, me, Shannon Wickline, Charlie Hayward, Bruce Brown