Behind the Grand Ole Opry Curtain

by Grand Ole Opry

  “That working-together relationship is just another part of our everyday life. We have businesses together. I don’t think it’s any harder [to be both married and in business together]. I wouldn’t say that. It boils down to truly loving one another and caring enough about making the relationship work and enjoying spending time with each other. All those things have to be there.”

  Lib is far more than his wife, manager, and life’s companion. She practically saved his life. And she is definitely the reason he wound up with a career in country music, never mind one of the most wildly successful ones in history.

  The star was born Randy Bruce Traywick in Marshville, North Carolina, on May 4, 1959. His father, Harold, was a farmer and construction worker. But he was also something else—an enthusiastic country-music fan and performer who coached all six of his children to be the same. Randy and his two brothers were given guitar lessons and put onstage at an early age. Harold Traywick’s favorites included Hank Williams, Ernest Tubb, Lefty Frizzell, Gene Autry, and Roy Rogers, so they became Randy’s as well.

  Randy played his first show when he was nine years old. He and his older brother Ricky formed a duo and were regulars in local honky-tonks by the time they were fourteen and fifteen, respectively. Randy dropped out of school to become a full-time musician not long afterward.

  “I didn’t like school,” he recalls. “I couldn’t stand it, to tell you the truth. I started runnin’ away from home, drinkin’, and getting into trouble. After about the seventh grade, I just almost wouldn’t go to school at all. I went into the ninth grade, and I never did finish that.”

  He was soon running wild, drinking, brawling, and committing crimes. By age seventeen, the juvenile delinquent looked like a sure bet for a prison sentence of one kind or another.

  “When I look back to when I was a teenager, with the amount of drugs and alcohol, I wasn’t much of a human. . . . It was drinkin’ and drivin’ and tryin’ to outrun policemen. . . . I guess I would’ve straightened up sooner or later, but I probably would have gone to prison before I did. I may not have lived long enough to straighten out. . . . The way I was living, I was headed for jail or the local cemetery.”

  In early 1977, he entered and won a talent contest at a Charlotte nightclub called Country City USA. Club owner Lib Hatcher saw “something special” in him, as she later put it. He confessed to her that he was facing five years of jail time for breaking and entering. She went to the judge and talked him into giving her custody of the young hell-raiser. She also hired Randy as the club’s full-time vocalist.

  “With Mama and Daddy . . . I just didn’t want to listen to them, didn’t want to do what they said,” Randy remembers. “But for some reason, I would listen to Lib. . . . She’s such a good person. And when a person’s like that, it kinda rubs off on you.”

  Lib was also fiercely dedicated to making him a star. Throughout the next few years, she tenaciously promoted him in every way she could. When Randy was eighteen, she financed a recording session that resulted in two singles that she badgered radio stations to play. One of them, “She’s My Woman,” actually made the national popularity charts. Because of her successful nightclub, Lib got to know many country stars who came through Charlotte on tour, including Dottie West, Gene Watson, and Loretta Lynn. She’d been a Grand Ole Opry fan since girlhood, and she eagerly tried to learn the country-music business from them.

  Lib and Randy moved to Nashville in 1981. A year later, Opry star Ray Pillow recommended Lib for a job managing the Nashville Palace nightclub. She hired Randy as a dishwasher. He soon became the club’s short-order cook. In between flipping burgers or grilling steaks, he’d take off his starched white apron and get onstage to sing. This went on for four long years.

  The club’s location proved to be advantageous. It was right next to the Opryland complex that contains the Opry House and, at that time, The Nashville Network (TNN) cable-TV studios. Opry stars often dropped by the Nashville Palace and were duly impressed by Randy’s burnished baritone. The show’s Jeanne Pruett recorded Randy’s song “I Told You So.” Opry stars like Johnny Russell (1940–2001) and Barbara Mandrell became boosters. Ralph Emery, the host of TNN’s Nashville Now, invited him to sing on the TV show. As a gimmick, Randy would bring Ralph a meal he’d just cooked. Renamed “Randy Ray,” he recorded an LP titled Randy Ray Live at The Nashville Palace in 1983.

  “Sit back and listen to one of tomorrow’s stars,” wrote Jimmy Dickens for the liner notes. But down on Music Row, things weren’t going so well. Lib had taken Randy’s tapes to every record company in town. Every label turned him down, some more than once.

  Now completely dedicated to leading a healthy lifestyle, Randy had begun working out with weights, eventually building the lean, muscular physique he maintains today. He also jogged up and down Music Row and worked at renovating Lib’s home/office.

  Record producer Keith Stegall had produced Randy’s album, and he began to play it for various country executives. One was producer Kyle Lehning, who was intrigued enough to go to the Nashville Palace to hear Randy sing live. He, too, became a supporter. Although Warner Bros. Records had previously rejected him, the company relented and signed the singer in 1985. The label didn’t like the name “Randy Ray” and renamed him “Randy Travis.” Kyle and Keith coproduced his debut disc. Keith would later go on to produce Opry superstar Alan Jackson’s records.

  In June, Randy Travis sang “On the Other Hand” at Nashville’s annual Fan Fair festival, and the crowd of twenty thousand went wild. In August, it became his debut single. It was at first deemed “too country” by radio programmers and fell off the charts. In December, the label issued a second single, “1982.” This time, Randy Travis would not be denied. The tune became his first top-ten hit. In March of 1986, the singer fulfilled a lifelong dream by singing on the Grand Ole Opry. Next, his record company took the unprecedented step of re-releasing “On the Other Hand.” This time, it became his first number-one smash.

  Storms of Life was issued as Randy’s debut Warner LP in June 1986. It contained both “1982” and “On the Other Hand,” as well as his next two hits, “Diggin’ Up Bones” and “No Place Like Home.” Storms of Life eventually sold more than three million copies. Critics began hailing him as the leader of a “new traditionalist” movement in country music.

  “Some people look at it like it’s a new trend,” he commented. “But to me, it’s just an old type of music that’s being accepted by a wider group of people than it used to be.”

  No one was more elated by his success than the traditionalists at the Opry. On December 20, 1986, Randy Travis joined the show’s cast.

  By this time, he’d bought a bread truck and outfitted it with bunk beds for his band. He was opening shows for the likes of George Strait, Willie Nelson, and George Jones. But that didn’t last long. Seemingly overnight, Randy Travis became a country-music headliner with his own gleaming tour bus instead of a bread truck.

  Released in 1987, Always & Forever became an even bigger success than his debut album. Its four chart-topping singles propelled it to more than five million in sales. One of those singles, “Forever and Ever, Amen,” was country’s biggest hit of the year. By 1988, Randy Travis was the crown prince of country music, scoring hit after hit with tunes like “Deeper Than the Holler” and “Is It Still Over.”

  Despite the increasing pressure and the enormous workload, he remained unfailingly humble and polite. Randy still impresses people with his quiet dignity, easygoing charm, and soft-spoken grace.

  By the dawn of the 1990s, Randy Travis was country music’s top-earning concert star. At age thirty, he’d sold more than thirteen million records. (His tally is now in excess of 21 million discs sold.) Formerly struggling “nobodies” from North Carolina, he and Lib were now on top of the world. She invested their money in Nashville real estate, and they bought a home in Hawaii. He recalls proposing to her in 1991 by saying, “Well, we ought to get married now, I guess.”

 
“Those aren’t the exact words, but that’s about as simple as it was. Heavy-duty romantic, huh? Lib will never let me live this one down, but our wedding took place in the backyard [in Hawaii] under a banana tree with a pastor and a stranger there to witness it. That’s pretty much what it boiled down to, because I did not want a big anything.”

  Their wedding day was May 31, 1991. Tongues wagged in Music City because she was eighteen years his senior. But their relationship has endured. Randy was baptized around 1993, and the couple’s journey together has been spiritual as well as romantic.

  By the year 2000, Randy Travis was the veteran of more than thirty major hits. His classics include “Hard Rock Bottom of Your Heart,” “He Walked on Water,” “Better Class of Losers” (which he cowrote with Alan Jackson), “If I Didn’t Have You,” “Whisper My Name,” “Spirit of a Boy, Wisdom of a Man,” and “Look Heart, No Hands.” Furthermore, he had branched out into acting. He has now appeared in more than forty theatrical films, TV movies, and episodes of television series.

  In the early years of the new millennium, Randy turned out a series of religious albums that have resulted in six awards from the Gospel Music Association and have accounted for three of his six Grammy Awards to date. In 2003, “Three Wooden Crosses” became yet another of his number-one smashes.

  Through it all, Lib has been by his side. In 1998, they moved from Nashville to Santa Fe, New Mexico. Their adobe mansion there resembles a southwestern pueblo. She loves decorating it and the guesthouse with Native American and western art. He enjoys the weight room, swimming pool, and horse stables. The two remain practically inseparable.

  “We have disagreements, like anybody else,” he admits. “There’s no doubt about that. I’m the one who’s usually going to get angry. That’s the part of me that I have to pray a lot about. There’s that redneck in me who still wants to get mad and yell. She walks away from the conversation at that point. So we just cease to talk for a few minutes. But as the years go by, that does not happen that often anymore.”

  So what is the secret to blending business with a lasting marriage?

  “You do what she tells you,” answers Randy Travis with a laugh. “Sometimes that’s true, actually. But it’s give and take. You can’t always have your way. She can’t always have her way. You have to truly have love for one another. If it’s true love, you will show respect for each other. Your time together and the affection you show each other are important. You have to spend time, not just working [together] as we do, but laughing and enjoying other things outside of work.

  “And let’s face it, I finished the eighth grade. That’s as far as I got. I have to look at it objectively here. I’m not dealing with a full deck in a lot of areas. I know I’m not the businessman here, so I’ve been fortunate to have people around me who are good at what they do and who care about me. I’ve been a blessed man.”

  33

  The Tragedy of Country Music’s King

  Everything you read about him will tell you that Hank Williams’ death date was January 1, 1953. But he was almost certainly dead for hours before New Year’s Day rolled around.

  Thirty years after the superstar’s death, a police report surfaced in Knoxville, Tennessee, that documented the last few hours of his life. For years, Hank’s place of death has been listed as Oak Hill, West Virginia, because that is where his driver stopped, found him cold, and took him to a hospital. In the wake of the tragedy, the Knoxville police investigation was ordered.

  Tennessee Highway patrolman Swan H. Kitts had stopped Hank’s 1952 powder-blue Cadillac in the nearby town of Blaine, Tennessee, earlier that night. The driver, Charles Carr, was given a ticket after nearly running the cop’s car off the highway. Swan Kitts was ordered by his superior, Captain John Davis, to fully investigate the time Hank spent in the Knoxville area the day before. The handwritten report lay forgotten in the Union County Courthouse for decades.

  Swan Kitts wrote, “On Wednesday, Dec. 31, 1952, Hank Williams and his driver, Charles Carr, caught a plane out of Knoxville and left their car at the airport at 3:30 p.m. They returned to the airport at 5:57 p.m.”

  They’d driven to Knoxville from Hank’s home in Montgomery, Alabama, en route to a New Year’s Day concert in Canton, Ohio. A deep winter fog had halted them in the mountains of East Tennessee. The weather was too inclement to fly, so after the plane landed back at the airport, Charles Carr headed for a hotel with his nearly lifeless companion.

  “At 7:08 p.m., Carr checked in Williams and himself at the Andrew Johnson Hotel,” continues the police report. “Dan McCrary, assistant hotel manager for the night shift, said Carr seemed nervous. The hotel manager didn’t see Williams as the porters helped him to his room. They carried him up. He spoke only a few words as he was so drunk that he was almost out. Carr ordered two steaks. Carr ate his, but Williams was out and couldn’t eat.

  “Dr. P. H. Cardwell arrived. He said Williams was very drunk and that he talked with him. He gave Williams two injections of morphine and B-12. He said he noticed Williams had some capsules, three or four, but didn’t know what they were or if Williams had taken any of them. Dr. Cardwell stayed only a short time and left.

  “In about an hour and a half or two hours, Carr talked with someone on the phone and said he and Williams had to leave for Canton, Ohio. The porters had to help him dress Williams. He was lifeless as they put his clothes on him. The porters carried him out and put him in the backseat of the car. Williams never moved at all. He seemed to make a coughing like sound as they carried him, but was lifeless and didn’t move. Carr checked them out at 10:45 p.m., spending only three hours and 44 minutes at the hotel, after telling the manager that they planned to spend the night there.

  “Carr, driving Williams’ car, was stopped near Blaine, Tennessee, at about 11:45 p.m. by S.H. Kitts of the Tennessee Highway Patrol after Carr almost hit head-on with the patrol car.

  “Carr said he was driving Hank Williams. I noticed Williams and asked Carr if he could be dead, as he was pale and blue looking. But he said Williams had drunk six bottles of beer and a doctor had given him two injections to help him sleep. He asked me not to wake him up as he was very sick and looked that way.

  “I had him (Carr) to stop at Rutledge. I wrote him a ticket (for reckless driving) at 12:30. He was tried before a Justice of the Peace, O. H. Marshall, and was fined $25 and costs. I talked with him about Williams’ condition in the presence of Sheriff J. N. Antrican and Marshall. We thought he (Carr) was a little nervous over paying the fine, and he asked us not to bother Williams. Carr had a soldier with him at the time he was in Rutledge. He paid the fine, thanked us and left at about 1 a.m.

  “After investigating this matter, I think that Williams was dead when he was dressed and carried out of the hotel. Since he was drunk and was given the injections and could have taken some capsules earlier, with all this he couldn’t have lasted over an hour and a half or two hours.

  “A man drunk or doped will make some movement if you move them. A dead man will make a coughing sound if they are lifted around. Taking all this into consideration, he must have died in Knoxville at the hotel.” For the record, Hank’s driver has always disputed this conclusion.

  Somewhere between Rutledge and Bristol, Tennessee, the soldier got out. An exhausted Charles Carr hired a taxi driver named Donald Surface to assist him when he stopped in Bristol. They arrived in Oak Hill, West Virginia, around 5:30 a.m. and stopped at a Pure Oil filling station. From there, they were directed to Oak Hill Hospital. Hank was pronounced dead there around 7:00 a.m. During the autopsy, nobody checked for drugs in his system. The cause of death was listed as “a severe heart condition.” Hank Williams was twenty-nine years old.

  Hank’s funeral was held in Montgomery on Sunday, January 4, 1953. A crowd estimated at 20,000 gathered outside the Municipal Auditorium. Inside were 2,750 more. Roy Acuff led the singing of Hank’s song “I Saw the Light.” Red Foley sang “Peace in the Valley.” Other Opry stars in attendance i
ncluded Bill Monroe, Carl Smith, Jimmy Dickens, Ray Price, June Carter, Johnnie & Jack, Lew Childre, and Webb Pierce.

  “It was almost impossible for the funeral procession to get from Hank Williams’ mother’s home to the city auditorium where the service was,” recalled Hank’s Drifting Cowboys band fiddler Jerry Rivers. “It took probably two hours, and it was probably five or six blocks. . . . This was an event that I had never seen anything like and, of course, never will again. . . . Within ten years, he was bigger than when he was when he died. And his stature has continued to grow.”

  No Grand Ole Opry star’s story is better known than that of country music’s tragic king. Hank Williams remains the most influential singer-songwriter in country history, with classic songs that continue to inspire generation after generation.

  He was born Hiram King Williams on September 17, 1923, in Mount Olive, Alabama. A congenital spinal-column defect called spina bifida was undiagnosed, and it caused him lifelong pain. Hank’s musical style was influenced by his mentor, a black street performer named Rufus “Teetot” Payne. Hank was reportedly drinking by age eleven and was performing in honky-tonks by age fifteen. In 1943, he met the beautiful and ambitious Audrey Sheppard. They were married by a justice of the peace on December 15, 1944. Lycrecia, Audrey’s daughter from her first marriage, remembers them both fondly.

  “He’s my father, as far as I’m concerned, the only father I ever knew,” says Lycrecia. “My real father left Mother before I was even born.

  “You know how the legend goes, that she caused him all this heartbreak. I guess people have to have someone to blame. But Mother was never interested in anything except helping Daddy get ahead. She had a lot of ambition. . . . He definitely would not have made it without Mother. And that’s not taking anything away from him. She’s the one who had the business sense, and Daddy had the talent.”