Arrowhead hunting, fishing, and hunting eventually had to be replaced by other interests, so Peanutt became fascinated with flying radio-controlled airplanes. He loved this hobby most of all. Every time we’d go to Nashville, he would have to stop in Hobby World and get a new airplane to build. They were very expensive, and it took a lot of time to build one. He’d spend days in our basement building his planes. Peanutt was totally content flying airplanes, and it saved a ton of heartache for me.
George Jones and Peanutt Montgomery were exactly alike in this way. They both had to be kept occupied doing something they liked to keep them away from alcohol, and I did a good job minding their business. Idle time was not a good time for either of them. It was when they had idle time that they would drink.
We moved from the apartment and after three more moves, we ended up in a house on Hough Road in Florence, Alabama. While we were living on Hough Road, Peanutt began to increase his drinking habit. I told him that I wanted him to get a job. Although he didn’t like the idea, he realized he needed something to keep him occupied. He applied for a job at Reynolds Metal Company where my dad worked, but they turned him down because he told them he had never had a job in his life. They must have thought at 26 years old, he was getting a very late start. He applied for a job at the steam cleaning company, and they hired him. His first job steam cleaning was at a house where a bad water leak had soiled the carpet. He lasted half a day. When he got home he announced he didn’t like the job, so he quit. That was the last job he applied for. I thought we could work together and build a business, so I went to the Electrolux Vacuum Cleaner Company and applied for jobs. They hired both of us. We went to work selling vacuum cleaners. Electrolux makes superior vacuum cleaners, and we outsold every agent in the company for three weeks. We sold to all of our relatives, friends, and a few outsiders. Then we quit. Our boss did not want to see us go, but we were finished.
We decided to move again. We bought a cute little three-bedroom one-bath house on Shade Avenue in North Florence. Peanutt was going to have to get busy and write some songs if we were going to pay for that house. I look back now, and I don’t know how on earth we made it. We had a new truck, a new car, a house, nice furniture, and no job. I wonder sometimes how we made it on Peanutt’s royalties. Back in those days royalties weren’t as much as they are today. The Good Lord watched over us.
I had always refused to move to Nashville. It took seven years of marriage to get me to move there, but we kept on writing songs. I got a job at Kmart and worked in the stationery department. I loved the job, but I didn’t stay there long because Melba wanted Peanutt to go to New York on a show date she was booked for, and I wanted to go with them. Peanutt told me I couldn’t go because I had a job. I told him that by the time Melba and he were ready to go, I wouldn’t have a job because I was going to quit and go with them.
I went to New York with Peanutt and Melba. Melba performed at the Nashville Club on the bottom floor of the Taft Hotel. I enjoyed the show, and I enjoyed the trip. I never worried about that job. I went back to Kmart, and my boss rehired me. I worked for a couple of months and quit again, so I could go on the road with Peanutt and Melba fulltime.
The only other job I ever had was at Barbers Cafeteria in Florence. I lasted about two months. Peanutt picked me up when I got off work and one night when he came, he was drinking. I made up my mind right then that I would never work another job, and I never did go back to work.
Peanutt was writing a lot and doing well by getting some real good cuts by various artists. Tanya Tucker, Beau (her father), her sister La Costa, and her mother Juanita came to stay with us for quite a while. They were trying to get in the music business in Nashville. They were introduced to John Capps who owned the K-Ark Records label in Nashville. John turned Tanya down because she was only nine years old.
Peanutt and Ron Ballew cut a record with La Costa at Widget Studio in Sheffield, Alabama. La Costa recorded an old tune entitled, “I Will,” but nothing became of it. Tanya, Peanutt and I wrote a commercial for Sealy Mattress Company and presented it to Kelso Herston. He liked it, but we never got paid. Tanya and I wrote a song together called, “I Just Dropped By to See if I Was Really Gone.” Someday we need to do something with that song.
George and Peanutt loved music more than they loved anything or anybody. They loved the bottle, and neither cared about the consequences of drinking until they screwed up. Peanutt and George never got into a fuss or fight when they were drinking together. They would just cut up and act crazy. They’d dress up in overalls and a white shirt and do some crazy old songs and laugh at themselves. They didn’t hurt anybody or fight with people and usually their shenanigans happened at home and were harmless.
Sometimes we’d invite some special friends over, but I wouldn’t put up with anything off-color, and I was very choosy about who I invited into my home. I knew George would be safe at our house, and I wouldn’t let anybody take advantage of him. When he came over to drink, I’d make him count his money and sign a paper showing we had counted it, and then I made him give it all to me. I meant it when I said that no one in my home was going to take advantage of George Jones.
George had his strange quirks. Out of the clear blue, he would want to take off to places in Florida or take a cruise somewhere. Peanutt and I would go with him and on most of the trips, he’d want to come back by the time we got to where we were going. He would suddenly sober up and change his mind.
George wasn’t mean when he was drunk; he laughed and talked a lot. He’d pick and sing and make me name the tune. He’d play old songs that he thought I wouldn’t know, but most of the time I knew them. He was not vicious unless somebody was teasing him the wrong way, and he thought someone was trying to get to him. I’ve seen him chew a few people out, but it was because he noticed something about them that he didn’t like. Even when George was drunk, it was difficult to pull one over on him. He was wise to people. I liked it when he put people in their places; especially, when they deserved it.
George had a mind of his own. He did what he wanted when he wanted, and he didn’t care what anybody thought of it. Peanutt was very much the same way. I recall one time when Peanutt was working with the Willis Brothers shortly after we were married. He went to Frankfurt, Germany, and I wouldn’t go with them because I didn’t want to fly. When they had been there a few days, Peanutt went to the show with the Brothers. He forgot and left the windows open in his hotel room. When he returned, he found pigeons had defecated on virtually everything in his room. Peanutt was beyond aggravated, and he was homesick, so he did what he always did. He drank a few beers, and then he called me.
“Charlene, I miss you, and I’m leaving here and coming home.”
He jumped in a cab to the airport and flew home. The Willis Brothers missed him, so Guy Willis called me.
“Charlene, we can’t find Peanutt, have you heard from him?”
“Yes, he’s on his way home,” I replied.
“That little snot head,” Guy complained, “He’s supposed to work with us tonight.” Guy just burst out laughing. He knew Peanutt, and he knew that if Peanutt got restless, he’d go home.
“Charlene, I knew you should have come with us.”
The alcohol mixed with the music business sometimes became a real problem to me. Music was our way of making a living, and the drinking seemed to bind up the work that needed to be done. In the early years of working in Nashville, we would all stay at the Biltmore Hotel with George and Pappy Daily. Peanutt and I would drive up to Nashville to meet George and Pappy to pick out the songs for George’s session. Most of the time, it would be set for 2:00p.m. the next day. By the time we’d get to Nashville, George would be high as a kite, and Peanutt would be pretty well lit, too. I’d think: How in the devil are they going to know what’s a good song and what isn’t? Pappy was always there, and he would select the songs that he liked.
Sometimes George would be very upset about something and wouldn’t even go to the stud
io to record. Pappy would have to send somebody else into the studio to use the time in place of George. Other times when George would arrive at the studio, he would be drunker than Rooster Brown trying to chase down nine hens. Somehow they managed to decipher the bad songs from the good that Peanutt wanted them to hear, and George would go in and record the sessions.
It was always harder on the studio musicians than anyone. It made the session a little more difficult to get finished. There were times when the musicians would get the tracks laid down, and George would go back and “dub over” his voice on the track at a later date.
I really and truly liked George from the first day I met him. I didn’t care about him because he was a star; I didn’t give a rip about that. I never have been a star struck person. I like people for what I see in them, for their character, and not for their social status in the world. I could feel for George. I overlooked his drinking even though I hated the thought of him drinking alcohol. I don’t know why it was different with George; he was the only person that I would tolerate drinking around Peanutt. I resented everybody else that drank. I saw something beneath the alcohol in George. I was sympathetic toward him. I can’t really explain it, but what George did when he was drinking was different from all the rest of Peanutt’s friends. For one thing, I could tell that George liked me. I didn’t think George would do anything that would hurt me. I knew he wasn’t trying to get Peanutt to do things against me, and George never seemed to mind my being with Peanutt and him. Most of Peanutt’s other friends would try to get Peanutt away from me. They seldom ever succeeded because I would run them off and tell them to never come back around. I didn’t trust anybody; especially, if the person drank. I trusted George more than anybody I knew in the business.
Peanutt and George were good men at heart. They were like brothers and were loyal to each other. It was a true friendship, and I cherished that. George was good to me. He always respected me, and that meant everything to me. Our friendship was one that is very hard to find, and I will always miss it.
I want to set the record straight that even though I hate alcohol and have expressed my opinion pretty graphically, George and Peanutt weren’t drinking all the time. We had a lot of fun, and none of us had to go to a job each day. We had nothing but time to kill, and we killed it by doing whatever we felt like doing.
It didn’t matter where George and Peanutt were going as long as I could go. They were not about to go anywhere together without me, and everybody knew it. That’s how we were. We did everything together, and that’s why we were together for thirty years.
George and Peanutt were good writers, musicians, singers, and they made a lot of money doing what they loved, but they also enjoyed living a common life. They loved the simple things. They honestly didn’t care about money, but they loved spending it. They loved antique cars, and they loved going into business. They were never afraid of taking chances, and they would venture into deals without ever thinking of the outcome and never looked back.
George was a little more ornery than Peanutt, and George loved it when he could make someone squirm. If he thought he could get you into trouble, he’d get a kick out of it. Once, we were in Lakeland, Florida celebrating Peanutt’s birthday. George wanted Peanutt to go to town with him. It was one of the few times I didn’t accompany them, and they weren’t away very long. Peanutt later told me what George did while they were gone.
“Charlene,” he explained, “when George and I went to town the other day, George offered to pay for me a prostitute for my birthday. I told him that I didn’t do stuff like that.”
George just died laughing at him. Peanutt said he knew George was just picking at him and being ornery, but he felt like he needed to tell me.
“Peanutt, George wouldn’t have known what to do if you’d taken him up on his offer. It would’ve scared him to death!”
George loved doing little things like that. If I had ever thought George was serious, he would have gotten his ears burnt by the chewing I would have unleashed on him. I never told George that I knew about his prank. George was a teaser and liked pulling pranks just to watch people squirm.
Bill and Nancy Giles lived next door to us, and we were well acquainted with them. They were always hearing about what went on around our house. One night, Peanutt sneaked away from home. He was drinking, and I wouldn’t let him have any of the car keys, so he was on foot. We had four vehicles (two Cadillacs, a Vega Station Wagon, and a soft-top Jeep). I knew Peanutt would sneak back home and try to take one of the cars. I also thought he probably had a secret set of keys somewhere. I took a bobby pin, went outside, and let the air out of all sixteen tires. Bill Giles was in his yard and saw me.
“What in the world are you doing out here?” He yelled.
“I’m flattening the tires, so Peanutt can’t take one of the cars,” I yelled back to him.
Bill was dying laughing. He thought I was crazy. Later that night, Peanutt did come back and grabbed one of the cars. To my surprise, he took the Vega and drove across the neighbor’s yard on four flats. He drove to the nearest service station and had the flats fixed. I knew he was headed to Nashville because earlier we had a heated argument about him going to Nashville. I called the Lawrenceburg Police and told them to stop him and put him in jail because he was drunk and shouldn’t be driving. They said they would put out a bulletin to be on the lookout for Peanutt’s Vega Station Wagon.
I called Sue Richards and told her to come and pick me up and not to take time to put on makeup. I called the police again and asked if they had seen Peanutt? They said they had stopped him, but he didn’t seem drunk, so they let him go. I was furious. I told the cops I was going to be coming through Lawrenceburg, and I was going to be doing about 90mph, and they had better not stop me. Sue and I headed to Nashville. We drove it in one hour and forty-five minutes. Just as we reached Franklin, Tennessee, Sue noticed Peanutt’s car parked beside a phone booth. I slammed on the brakes and slid into the parking lot. Peanutt was on the phone with Nancy Giles asking her if she knew where I was? She told him that someone had come and picked me up. About that time, he saw me and was shocked that I had gotten to Franklin as fast as I had. I made him get into the car with me and ride home. Sue drove the Vega. I chewed his rear end out all the way home. I told him that there were twelve more flats for him to fix when he got home. He was furious, but I didn’t care. I also told him that if he ever slipped away from me again, I was going to do something that would really make him mad. It was a long time before he tried sneaking off.
Later on, Peanutt told me about the police who stopped him in Lawrenceburg. He said they pulled him over and asked him where he was going, and he said to Nashville to see George Jones. He said there were three cars of policemen, and one wore a gold badge on his hat. The important cop asked if he was drunk, and he told him he had only had a couple of beers, and that he just wanted to get away from his wife for a little while.
“Go ahead and enjoy yourself,” a cop jokingly commented. “I’d like to be going with you, but I have to work.”
The cops told him that they would call Columbia, Tennessee and tell them to let him go on through. Peanutt came to Columbia, and a cop saw him and threw his hand up as Peanutt went by.
Bobby and Mary Womble were our friends. Back in that day, CB Radios were very popular, and the Wombles used theirs religiously. They were on there all the time.
Everybody liked Bobby. His CB name was “Cook,” Peanutt’s was “Mohair Sam,” and mine was “Sweet Pea.” They had gotten acquainted with George Jones and Linda (my sister). George’s CB handle was “Possum” and Linda’s was “Possum Queen”. Linda and George were out of town when Bobby called and wanted Peanutt and me to go to Huntsville, Alabama to see Jerry Lee Lewis perform. I didn’t want to go because I knew he would want to drink, and then Peanutt would drink.
There was another couple going, and I didn’t like them, so I told Peanutt that we weren’t going. Bobby called me and promised that nobody wo
uld drink a drop if I’d go. I finally gave in, but only under the condition that I would drive my own car, and they could ride with Peanutt and me.
We arrived in Huntsville and drove straight to the Carousel Club where Jerry Lee was going to perform. The house band was playing, so they all wanted to dance. When we got back to our table, Cook ordered a drink for everybody. I shocked them all when I said: “If you’re buying everybody else a drink, just order me one too.”
Peanutt had that deer in the headlights look on his face. He knew how much I hated alcohol.
“What do you want, Sweet Pea?” Cook asked tongue in cheek.
“I want a straight double shot of Vodka,” I replied.
Peanutt chimed in, “Charlene, you can’t handle that, that will wipe you out.”
“I want what I asked for,” I told him, and Cook ordered the drinks.
I planned this whole business out very carefully, so I knew what I was going to do. They had lied to me, and I wasn’t about to stick around them. I was headed out the door and to my car, but I knew Peanutt was never going to let me drive off with that much alcohol in my system, so he would have to go with me.
The Legend of George Jones: His Life and Death Page 6