Raven 1

by D M Barrett

  “Have a seat, Brother,” the banker said cheerfully.

  “Should I get out my wallet?” the preacher asked with a smile.

  “Let me explain my situation. One of my first acts in Ferguson about a dozen years ago was to foreclose that property at the western edge of town called the Thirsty Turtle,” the banker stated.

  “What caused you to be so cruel?” the preacher smirked.

  “Prohibition. It was prohibition plain and simple. The business just couldn’t make it without beer, wine and spirits. It failed miserably as a café. There wasn’t anything to draw the few folks that were left,” the banker lamented.

  “How does that involve me?” the preacher inquired.

  “You have proven to everyone that you have a gold thumb. You can get things done in developing our business community. I think you can help me rent or sell that property,” the banker said.

  “Let me pray about it,” the preacher replied.

  “Pray hard, preacher. Pray hard,” the banker suggested.

  * * *

  The preacher made his way back to Jack Wright’s store. Upon arrival he found that the Smiths and their band were gone.

  “You sure made Cecil, Randall, and the boys happy, preacher. Nobody will give you any grief on your decision. Ferguson, and those weekenders at Miss Rosie’s, need a concert,” the storekeeper stated.

  “I think you are right,” the preacher replied.

  Jack Wright smiled and nodded. He knew that a weekend event would be good for selling refreshments from just across the street from the church.

  “Brother Jack, I need to use your phone,” the preacher said.

  “Have at it,” Jack replied.

  The preacher picked up the receiver and cranked the phone. It took a moment for the operator to respond.

  “Miss Sarah, this is the preacher. I need to talk to the pastor at the First Baptist Church in Knoxville,” the preacher instructed.

  He replaced the receiver, turned to Jack Wright, and said, “She’s calling back when she has him. If you tell anything to anybody, I will tell your wife that you keep a quart of moonshine under your counter for sharing with that Lewis girl.”

  “How do you know that?” Jack Wright replied with an expression of shock.

  The preacher began to recite, “Nothing in all creation is hidden from God’s sight. Everything is uncovered and laid bare.”

  Jack Wright began stammering and said, “Now preacher, it’s only a social drink once or twice a month. I ain’t foolin’ around with her. But if I was, which I ain’t, she’s over 21.”

  “I think it best that we keep this discussion and my next few phone calls between the two of us,” the preacher replied.

  “Whew! That’s a real good idea,” the shopkeeper said as he wiped some drops of sweat from his brow.

  Jack Wright stepped out of the store in order to give the preacher some privacy. He figured that the preacher was doing some church business that didn’t concern him. However, he noted that the preacher was dead serious about the confidential nature of the call.

  “Brother Wright,” the preacher called.

  “What is it preacher?” Jack asked.

  “Do those Smith boys have a phone?’ the preacher inquired.

  “As a matter of fact they do. It helps them take bookings for their music shows,” he responded.

  “Call Cecil and tell him I need to see him now. Randall can come, too,” the preacher instructed.

  Jack Wright did as the preacher asked. In about 15 minutes the two Smiths were back at the discount store.

  “Are you cancelling the dance and music show, preacher?” Cecil asked timidly.

  “Absolutely not. I got a booking for you,” the preacher responded.

  “When and where?” Randall Smith asked.

  “The band has an audition at 10:00 am tomorrow at WNOX-AM for the Midday Merry Go Round,” the preacher explained.

  “That’s walking in tall cotton! How did you ever get that done?” Cecil asked.

  “That station went on the air in 1921 as WNAV. It was fully owned and operated by the First Baptist Church of Knoxville. Although it’s been sold and the call letters changed to WNOX, the church still wields considerable influence with the owner,” the preacher instructed.

  “What do we need to do?” Randall Smith asked excitedly.

  “Bring the band and their instruments here at daylight tomorrow. Brother Wright is loaning us his large flatbed Ford to haul us and the instruments to Knoxville,” the preacher said.

  Jack Wright nodded affirmatively. The Smiths promised to be timely and left the store quite excited.

  * * *

  The next morning the band arrived promptly as the sun was rising. The preacher had commandeered Discount Grocery’s flat-bed truck and pressed Leon Kyle into service as their chauffeur.

  Once the musicians were seated with their instruments, the preacher climbed into the back of the truck with them. He was itching to hear some music.

  Before the preacher could make his initial request, Cecil Smith began to somberly speak, “WNOX is one of the oldest radio stations in this country. They just boosted their power and they dominate the whole region now. There’s a lot of good pickers and grinners that play live music on that radio station.”

  “What are you suggesting, Cecil?” the preacher asked with a puzzled look on his face.

  “I don’t want you to be upset or disappointed if we don’t make the cut,” he explained.

  The preacher replied, “All things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.”

  “Are you ready?” Leon asked.

  “Start driving and the Smith Brothers Band will start playing,” the preacher ordered.

  “What you want to hear preacher?” the younger Smith inquired.

  “‘There Is A Fountain’, instruments only and don’t let it drag,” the preacher responded.

  The flat-bed truck made its way through the curvy roads that wound through the mountains of east Tennessee on its way to WNOX-AM. After the tune finished, the preacher said, “Cecil, I’m thinking about opening up a cafe at that old Thirsty Turtle building.”

  “Is the preaching business goin’ that badly?” Cecil asked with a serious look.

  “Let’s just say that it seems the town could use a place to get a little manna and quail...for a price,” the preacher replied.

  “What’s your plan?” Randall Smith inquired.

  “Actually, my plan is to ask if your wives will do the cooking and the Smith Brothers will do the entertaining,” the preacher explained.

  “Say on,” Cecil Smith said excitedly.

  “I’ll say more after the audition. I’m hoping for a little free advertisement from time to time,” the preacher replied.

  The band sang and played a few more songs for the next few hours as they made their way through the mountain terrain to Knoxville. Eventually the truck came to a stop outside the radio station. The Smith Brothers Band was warmed up, tuned up, and ready for the audition.

  5: The Audition

  When the Smith Brothers Band, accompanied by the preacher, entered the WNOX-AM building, they were immediately greeted by the station manager, Coleman Walker. His obvious enthusiasm surprised the group.

  “I’m Coleman Walker. I’m the station manager. We’re excited about the Smith Brothers appearing on the Midday Merry-Go-Round program today,” he said.

  “We only expected an audition today, Mr. Walker. What made you decide to put these folks on the air?” the preacher asked.

  “Pastor Sellars over at First Baptist asked for it as a personal favor. He said the you had assured him that the Smith Brothers had performed throughout this region and would be a great act for our show,” Mr. Walker explained.

  “What’s your expectation of the band on today’s show?” the preacher asked.

  “Well, our show is mostly old-time music, string band acts, some country western, and a
little gospel,” the station manager said.

  “You won’t be disappointed. That’s the forte of the Smith Brothers,” the preacher remarked.

  “We’re starting to hear a separate, new sound within the country music genre. It’s called honky-tonk country. With times getting a little better and the repeal of prohibition, folks seem to be stepping out for a little live dance music at bars and dance halls now,” Mr. Walker said.

  “What is the main theme of honky-tonk country?” the preacher asked.

  “It usually concerns a broken relationship, alcohol of some sort to soothe the heartache, and a certain degree of fatalism. It is usually best at mid to up tempo,” the station manager explained.

  “The Smith Brothers are steeped in honky-tonk music,” the preacher said with the Smith Brothers giving him wide eyed looks.

  “Let’s do one honky-tonk song near the end of your segment. We don’t want to cause too much heartburn to the church folks that will be listening,” Mr. Walker cautioned.

  “Works for us,” Cecil Smith replied.

  “What’s your best honky-tonk song?” Coleman Walker inquired.

  Cecil Smith started slightly stammering but the preacher replied, “It’s one that a friend of mine wrote called ‘I Won’t Hang Around.’”

  “Excellent! Excellent! You guys are the full package,” Mr. Walker said excitedly.

  “The Smith Brothers are very eclectic,” the preacher instructed.

  “Electric? Can you play electric instruments?” Mr. Walker asked.

  “We can play anything that has strings,” Randall Smith said.

  “Would you like to practice in the studio before the show begins?” the station manager asked.

  “We need to practice that honky-tonk song, preacher,” Cecil Smith said.

  “Come on in the studio. I’m anxious to hear it,” the station manager said.

  “We’re anxious to hear it, too,” Cecil Smith said as the rest of the band nodded affirmatively.

  Inside the studio, the preacher hummed the tune for the band and said, “It’s somewhere in the neighborhood of the key of A with a short break after the first verse and a longer break with a piano lead after the second verse.”

  One of the band members, Zeke Clemmons said, “I’ll hit the piano and Johnson can play the electric pedal steel.”

  “God forgive us,” the preacher said under his breath.

  The music started with a distinctive honky-tonk style. The preacher began crooning the first verse:

  “I’m just sitting here tonight drinking all alone.

  I’ve done that most every night ever since you’ve gone.

  You walked out and slammed the door before you blew this town.

  If you don’t want me here no more, I won’t hang around.”

  As the band went into the short instrumental break, the station managed began waving his arms and shouting, “Stop! Stop! Stop!”

  “He don’t like it,” Cecil Smith said as he dropped his head.

  “No! No!” the station manager exclaimed.

  “What’s the problem?” the preacher asked with a puzzled look.

  “The problem is: I need them here every week not just for one show,” the station manager explained.

  “They are available during the week, but they are booked on Friday and Saturday nights at The Bluebird Café in Ferguson,” the preacher said.

  “We are?” Zeke Clemmons asked.

  “I can always book them on Thursdays, but I really need them on Fridays, too,” Coleman Walker explained.

  “Can you do a remote show?” the preacher asked.

  “That's not a problem, but why?” Mr. Walker inquired.

  “You should do a remote broadcast from the Bluebird Café on Friday nights. We have the Friday Night frolics hosted by the Smith Brothers along with showcasing some local artists on occasion,” the preacher pitched.

  “Can you get that arranged?” the station manager inquired.

  “I’m tight with the management, but you’ll need to pitch the show during the week,” the preacher said.

  “We will certainly do that. But we need to work out a financial arrangement with the band,” Mr. Walked said.

  “Looks like that’ll be after the show. It’s about ten minutes until you go live,” the preacher explained.

  “After the show . . . that’ll probably cost me more money,” Coleman Walker remarked.

  “Not a dime more, Brother Walker, not a dime more,” the preacher said with a smile.

  * * *

  After the Smith Brothers finished their half hour segment on the two-hour show, they adjourned to the station manager’s office to negotiate a deal. The preacher stayed in the lobby.

  The receptionist looked at the preacher and said, “I have a message for you to call Brother Sellars at the church.”

  The preacher was a little unnerved at the message. He expected a trip to the woodshed over the honky-tonk song. Nevertheless, he waited patiently while the receptionist got Pastor Sellars to the phone and handed him the receiver.

  “Brother Sellars, this is Tom Mann. I want to thank you for arranging for the Smith Brothers to be on the Midday Merry-Go-Round on WNOX-AM today,” the preacher began.

  “It was a great show. I heard every song and I want you to know they were every bit as good as you represented, Brother Mann,” he replied. “I do need to ask something of you,” Pastor Sellars stated.

  “Now if it’s about that honky-tonk song, I can explain . . .,” the preacher said sheepishly before being interrupted.

  “Oh that’s the music business. It takes all kinds of songs, I guess,” Brother Sellars replied.

  Gently changing the subject the preacher asked, “What can I do for you?”

  “We are having a revival here a week from Sunday and I was hoping that the Smith Brothers could perform during services and especially at our fellowship luncheon after the main service has concluded,” Brother Sellars said.

  “They’ll be there and ready to tickle the angels' feet with some good old gospel music,” the preacher bragged.

  “That is great, Pastor Mann. I am about as excited as my congregation will allow,” Brother Sellars remarked.

  “I’ll make sure that they tilt the program away from Saturday night and more toward Sunday morning,” the preacher promised.

  “I’m looking forward to hosting them Sunday week. May the Lord continue to bless you, brother,” Pastor Sellars said.

  “Thank you, Brother Sellars,” the preacher said as he handed the phone to the receptionist.

  A very attractive lady entered the WNOX building and asked the receptionist if Mr. Walker was available. The receptionist told her politely that he was in a meeting and would likely be unavailable for a while.

  The woman turned to leave the building when the preacher offered his hand and said, “I’m Tom Mann. I am the preacher in Ferguson.”

  “Based on today’s show, it seems you are a pretty good honky-tonk singer, too. My name is Marilyn Mitchell,” she replied with a smile.

  “Your compliment is certainly appreciated but that was a spur-of-the-moment situation. Are you a singer?” the preacher inquired.

  “I would like to be. I sing in church and at a few local events. But I’ve been trying to get on the Midday Merry-Go-Round, but I haven’t had any luck,” she replied.

  “Why is that?” the preacher asked.

  “I am a vocalist. I don’t play an instrument or have a band. Mr. Coleman Walker tells me that I'm not really suited for the show,” she responded.

  At that moment, the station manager and the Smith Brothers Band exited his office and walked toward the preacher. Coleman Walker totally avoided eye contact with the lady.

  “Preacher, we have a deal,” Mr. Walker announced.

  “Does it include the Friday Night Frolics from the Bluebird Café?” the preacher asked.

  “Absolutely, it’s comprehensive and will be in place for 52 consecutive weeks,” Mr. Walker expl
ained.

  “Have you met our friend, Miss Mitchell?” the preacher queried.

  “Well, er . . . we have crossed paths,” the station manager uncomfortably replied.

  “Outstanding! She’ll be appearing on the Friday Night Frolics next week. In fact, you’ve got time to get her on for the last song on today’s show. The Smith Brothers can accompany her.” the preacher announced.

  “What’s she going to sing?” the station manager asked.

  “Do you know ‘How Many Biscuits Can You Eat?’” the preacher inquired.

  “Yes I do. That’s one of the Coon Creek Girls’ songs,” Miss Mitchell said.

  The preacher looked at the Smith Brothers and they all nodded affirmatively.

  The group adjourned into the studio where the Skillet Lickers were about to conclude. The station manager pointed at the preacher and the lady. The lead singer of the Skillet Lickers nodded.

  The pair approached the microphones. The preacher spoke into the microphone and said:

  “One of the most important questions asked every morning at the Bluebird Cafe in Ferguson is: ‘How Many Biscuits Can You Eat?’

  If you’re like me, I’ll eat all that I can get if they’re made with that White Lily Flour from here in Knoxville! It is pure white, ground fine, and oh so great for any kind of baking. Now go put a ten-pound bag of White Lily on your grocery list while you listen to Miss Marilyn sing: ‘How Many Biscuits.’”

  The Smith Brothers Band begins with a short intro followed by Miss Mitchell singing:

  “How many biscuits can you eat this morning?

  How many biscuits can you eat this evening?

  How many biscuits can you eat? 49 and a ham of meat.

  This morning, this evening, right now.”

  * * *

  As the flat-bed truck pulled into Ferguson, the preacher pointed for Leon Kyle to stop at the Harriman Bank. The preacher told the Smith Brothers to wait for him at the store and sent the band on.

  Upon entering the bank George Hickman inquired, “Preacher, have your prayers been answered?”

  “Mine are always answered but today yours have been answered too,” the preacher replied.