As we were dealing with my own health battles, Wendell had begun showing some early signs of dementia. It took us a while to figure out exactly what was going on. I knew he was forgetful, but, heck, I was, too! After a while, it was clear it was more than just age. He wasn’t always himself, and that made it difficult for him to stay on top of everything as he once had so masterfully. Having Jordan step in to lend a hand was a real blessing.
On Saturday night, May 20, I performed at Birmingham’s Saturn club. Wendell introduced me and escorted me on stage, as he’d done at every show since he took over as my manager back in the ’60s. He was feeling a little weak that night, which had become a more common occurrence in the previous year or so. He had quadruple bypass surgery back in 1993, which they say is usually effective for about twenty years. He had been having frequent “spells”—Wendell’s term for feeling dizzy, getting headaches, and losing energy—for a few weeks leading up to that night. He was eating nitro pills like candy, and I later learned that he couldn’t get down the steps from the stage that evening until he steadied himself on the rail for a moment and took a few of his “dynamite pills.” Jordan helped him to a table and they sat together in the audience for my show.
As I looked out on the two of them, it occurred to me that I couldn’t even remember the last time Wendell had been out in the crowd to watch my entire show from beginning to end. Usually he was running around taking care of all the business, but with Jordan in tow, it freed him up to sit down and enjoy the performance as a spectator. “Wanda, you sounded terrific tonight,” he beamed when we got back to the hotel room after the show. “Your voice is sounding so strong, and it’s so good to see your energy and your strength up there. You’re back!”
The next day Jordan dropped us off at the Birmingham airport and headed back to Nashville. While we were waiting to fly home to Oklahoma City, Wendell passed out. The paramedics worked on him for forty-five minutes at the airport, but couldn’t revive him. An ambulance transported him to the emergency room, where they continued to work on him. After what seemed like hours, the doctor came out to the waiting area and told me they couldn’t save him. He’d had a heart attack. I felt my mouth go dry. I hadn’t been without Wendell in over fifty-five years. He was eighty-one years old, but I couldn’t believe he was gone so quickly.
Nothing really prepares you for that moment, but the people in Birmingham were so good to me. They treated me like family. In fact, an employee from Delta Airlines and another employee from American who saw what happened came to the hospital, prayed with me, and took care of all the logistics. Neither one of them knew I was an entertainer or had any reason to take an interest in me other than pure compassion. God sent those women to be my angels that day. Despite my profound sense of loss, I was also filled with love, comfort, and a peace that passes all understanding.
I realize now that Wendell was sicker than he let on. Maybe he didn’t want to admit that his strength was failing. He’d always been my rock and my knight in shining armor. I can certainly understand why he might not want to face the reality of the changes in his life. I know I certainly didn’t. When you’re young you think you’ll live forever. Maybe it never really gets any easier to deal with your own mortality as you age. But none of us can escape the inevitable.
Even though I’m sad not to have Wendell by my side anymore, I do have hope. I know I’ll see him again. I know we’ll spend forever together in Heaven. Wendell is no longer in his earthly body, but he’s waiting for me in eternity. And he’s free. He doesn’t have to take those nitro pills. His mind isn’t betraying him. His body isn’t slowing him down or holding him back. He is in the presence of God and he is whole. As I’ve thought about it, I’m glad that the Lord chose to take him when he did instead of having him suffer through a long, slow mental decline.
We had a service for Wendell at Southern Hills Baptist Church in Oklahoma City on May 26. My next show was scheduled for June 3 in Seattle, but I couldn’t imagine how I could possibly go back out there and do what I do without Wendell there in his dependable role as manager, encourager, organizer, and number one cheerleader. We’d been partners in marriage, parenting, music, business, and life for so many years! It felt like I’d lost an appendage or two (at least), and a great big chunk of my heart. Was I even capable of carrying on without him?
I was trying to go to sleep that night, but a million thoughts were floating through my mind. I was feeling restless and started thinking about Wendell. My mind drifted back to a recurring conversation we’d been having in recent months. I had been talking to him about making a plan for when we should retire. I guess I could see that his dementia was getting worse, and I thought maybe it would be better for him if we stopped traveling. But he wasn’t ready. He would always say, “Wanda, I think we should give it at least a couple more years.”
As I lay there in the dark, replaying those conversations in my mind, something just told me “I’m going to give it at least a couple more years, and I’m gonna do it for Wendell.” At that moment, I realized that the best thing for me is to get right back out there and do what he knew I loved to do. Now I’m on that stage to honor Wendell’s memory and to bring glory to God as I share the story of my faith and the story of the kind of love and commitment a couple can have when they build a lasting relationship on the right foundation.
Jordan met me in Seattle for that next show, and everything worked out perfectly. They had a beautiful three-room suite for us, provided transportation to and from the venue, and even took us to a great barbecue restaurant to eat afterward. It was a sweet experience, and everyone was so kind. But I have to confess I was a little nervous before going onstage that night. What if I started thinking about Wendell and got so teary eyed I couldn’t sing? How would the crowd react? Would I just end up embarrassing myself?
As it turned out, I felt strong. I felt like the Lord and Wendell were up there watching me with great big smiles on their faces. Maybe they called Daddy and Mother over, too, to enjoy the show. I thought about the old song “May the Circle Be Unbroken” and I felt like I was living out those lyrics in that very moment.
The only time I faltered was halfway through “Right or Wrong.” That has always been my special song for Wendell, ever since he told me he fell for me the first time he heard me sing it. I’ve thought of it as a declaration of my commitment to him and a testament to our love ever since he and I first met. I broke down a little bit during that one, but Jordan swears it wasn’t obvious. Whether it was or not, I felt good to be back up there, with my health back where it ought to be, doing what Wendell loved to see me do.
Two weeks later I appeared on the Grand Ole Opry—for the third time ever—and sang “Right or Wrong” for Wendell once again. My son, Greg, and his family were there that night with me. In fact, after all my years in the music business, it was the first time Greg had ever been to Nashville! Of course, Jordan was there, too. Since Wendell passed, my entire family—including my daughter, Gina, who’s living with me now—has made me feel so treasured and supported. I can say that grief is real, but so is the love of a good family, the faithfulness of God, and the sweet promise that we’ll all be reunited again one day.
Chapter 27
TREAT ME LIKE A LADY
Even though my health problems are now behind me, I’m still watching myself getting older and older, and it’s a real killer. There’s a lot of pressure on women and on entertainers to live up to a certain standard. Add those two together, and you’ve got a real recipe for defeat. I don’t know why, but it seems to me that men’s bodies hold up better to the rigors of life as an entertainer. I didn’t realize how hard all the traveling and one-nighters can be on a woman when I started out. I look at someone like Merle Haggard, and it seems like his voice sounded so consistently good right to the very end. It’s like it was effortless. I feel like we gals get hit twice as hard by the accumulation of the years, which means we have to work twice as hard to keep giving our all.
; Despite the temptations, I decided a while back that I was not going under the knife. I understand that plenty of women do it, and I understand why. I don’t judge them for that, but kids have respected me all along for being different and not trying to be like everybody else. That’s that same message that Daddy drilled into my head from the very beginning: “Don’t follow the crowd; find a way to do things your own way.”
That spirit has kept me saying, “I’m going to do the best I can, or at least the best with what I have to work with.” Trying to be beautiful all the time is a young woman’s pursuit, and that’s not where I find my worth today. But I won’t pretend that the aging process is fun. I’m worried about my balance, and sometimes I can’t stand for an entire hour-and-a-half concert, so I’ll lean on a stool for a while. 1usually just say something funny about it. I want the audience to know, “Hey, I know what I’m doing and it’s perfectly all right.”
Not only am I embracing the aging process, I’m also embracing new opportunities and adventures! That includes an approach to songwriting that’s different for me. Somewhere along the way I had stopped writing my own songs altogether. During the latter part of my Capitol days, I’d had enough country hits that some of the really good Nashville writers were sending me material. I had better songs to choose from than I’d had in the past, so if I had three or four solid potential hits for a recording session I didn’t feel much of a need to contribute my own songs. I didn’t really purposefully get away from writing, but between already having access to good material and the fact that my life had gotten so busy, it just kind of happened.
I used to like to be totally alone when I was writing. When I wrote, I’d generally sit down at the piano and try out various things in complete solitude, where nobody would be watching or listening to my process. I’d occasionally written some things while traveling, but preferred being at home with just the piano and total silence. Balancing a career, a marriage, and motherhood made it tricky to really find the time and space to write. Over the years, that part of my life just kind of drifted away.
That all changed recently, thanks to my granddaughter, Jordan. That little squirt is working me to death! She called me not long ago and said, “Ma, I’ve set up some co-writing sessions for you in Nashville.” I said, “Jordan, I haven’t written with other people very much, and I don’t think I could do that. The country songs I hear on the radio today have changed a lot, and I just don’t know if I could write that kind of song.” Even as I was protesting, it occurred to me that I’m often thinking of song titles in my head. I can be driving along and formulate a whole verse and a chorus of a song, but I quit writing them down a long time ago. Some of those ideas were starting to gnaw at me again, but fear was holding me back. Jordan suggested that I just go to Nashville and sit in on a songwriting session to see how it works these days. I agreed, even though I was scared. I thought, My gosh, I don’t know what I’m getting myself into here.
Since I promised Jordan I’d give it a shot, I headed down to Nashville, where she introduced me to Sonia Leigh and Vanessa Olivarez. Sonia is an artist who has written a couple of number one hits with Zac Brown, and Vanessa was a successful contestant on American Idol who’s written for Sugarland and other big country artists. She’s also in the group Bang!Bang! that Jordan works with. I felt like those gals were operating in a world that’s a million miles from my experience, but I liked them immediately. The four of us were just sitting around talking, and I was telling the girls that, even though I have a reputation for being a wild or strong woman, I was proud of the fact that I’d always stayed a lady. Before you know it, we were writing a song called “Treat Me Like a Lady.” It was the most natural experience, and so much fun. That’s when I decided I’d do some more of that co-writing that the Nashville folks do so well.
I’m eighty years old now, and I’m enjoying my newfound career as a Nashville-style songwriter. God works in mysterious ways, and when you’re following Him, life is an adventure. You just never know where He’s going to lead you, and I’m thrilled that He’s opened up this new door for me at this stage of life.
Of course, once I got back into writing I was ready to get to that unfinished business and do some more recording. The opportunity recently came about to work with Joan Jett, and I’m so happy we get to collaborate with each other. She’s been producing some tracks for me, and we are working on a full album together. She tells me that I was influential in sparking her desire to sing. Plus, we have a lot in common, just being girl rockers. And she’s a real girl rocker! I might have gotten things started, but she took it from there! When I hear people like Joan, Cyndi Lauper, or Adele talk about my influence on their careers, it just amazes me and flatters me to no end. I consider them all a part of my extended rock-and-roll family.
I value the opportunity to keep doing the job I love. Shows are different now than they used to be. They’re longer and there are fewer acts on the bill. Now, if people come to the show, they’re probably coming to see me. They’re already fans. At one point, I’d be part of a bill with a list of other entertainers, and I always viewed it as a challenge to win over the audience. I tried to bring the right style and charisma to get them in the palm of my hand before the show was through. That’s where Daddy would say, “They’re still talking all around this bar and back in that area. You’ve gotta grab ‘em.” That was my mission, and I learned pretty well how to do it, even if they weren’t there to hear my songs. I wanted to pull everybody in and make sure they were all having a good time. I would always talk with the audience and make little changes based on the feeling in the room. My shows weren’t the same every night, and that uncertainty was exciting.
By now, I know how to keep an audience interested. I feel sorry for some artists today who are superstars, but have only done a few shows. They know how to sing, but they don’t know how to entertain yet. Some of these kids need all the dancers and the costumes because they’ve never had to go out and win anyone over on raw talent alone. And that’s fine. It’s just a different type of show. It’s another thing to be on a stage with just you and your music, figuring out how to hook that crowd. I have young adults come up to me and say, “That was the best show I’ve ever seen.” That’s a jaw-dropper to me because I don’t have any goodies. There are no dancers or crazy lights or fog machines or video projections behind me!
One of my favorite shows on TV is The Voice. Oh my gosh, the sets are just fabulous, but it makes the performance harder to listen to. The singer is just one part of this whole show. I don’t have all the bells and the whistles and the fluff. For me, that would just clutter everything up. It’s the difference between spectacle and really connecting with people, and connecting is what I learned over a lot of years.
I don’t know what the future holds, but, looking back, I don’t think there’s much I would change about my journey up to this point. Oh, maybe there are a few little nit-picky things. I’m not business minded, but if I had been, I might have fought a little harder for more elaborate stage sets and things I wanted that I thought I couldn’t have. I probably had some low self-esteem early on and didn’t think I was qualified to ask for some of the things I wished I had. Maybe I would be a little bolder if I had a do-over, but the training with Daddy was, “You do what your employer wants you to do.” I wish I’d been more of a take-charge person, but I wasn’t and never could be. That’s just not my personality. So, given who I am and who God made me to be, I wouldn’t really change anything about my career.
If I could have a do-over in my personal life, there are things I would find the time for that I never had the opportunity to experience because of the demands of my career. Would you believe I’ve never planted a flower? I think I would enjoy it. I wish I’d gone to art classes and learned to paint. I wish I’d learned to be a great cook and experiment with some interesting culinary creations. When your work is your life, it’s hard to make room for those kinds of simple pleasures.
The biggest change I would
make, if I could go back in time, is that I would be home for more of the special things in my children’s lives. I was a bit selfish in that regard. Or maybe a lot selfish. As an only-child with a strong father, and then a strong husband, I never had to share things with anybody. My career was still number one, even when the kids came along. I felt like I wasn’t really ready to be a mom. I hadn’t even been around kids or held them or anything. I think it hurt my children that I missed plays and piano recitals and that kind of thing. That’s so important to kids to have their parents there for those experiences. That wasn’t as much the case when I was young. Mother worked all the time, so she was never at any of my school-related events. PTA was out of the question, and it was the same for me. I was not interested, but that just wasn’t right. I should have taken more of an interest. I should have recognized that times were changing and the other parents were engaging in new ways. That’s something I regret and wish I could go back and fix.
I love my children so much, and am so proud of who they’ve become as adults. Wendell and I were so fortunate that they turned out okay. We never had to get them out of jail or pick them up from the hospital or that kind of thing. Greg and Gina have both done such a fantastic job of parenting with their respective families. I just watch in amazement. They’ve really got it together, and my children and grandchildren have enriched my life in ways I wish I’d fully appreciated earlier on. When I look at my grandkids—Jennifer, Jordan, Jillian, and Chandler—my heart bursts with pride. Jennifer recently had a baby in March of 2017, officially making me a great-grandmother! They named her Nellie Rose, after my mother, and one of the things I treasure is that Wendell had the chance to hold her and dote on her before he passed away. We couldn’t have been more proud.
Every Night Is Saturday Night Page 26