How is it that Elvis became so famous? I mean, he's been dead 44 years and yet a half million people a year still visit Graceland, his mansion in Memphis. With the exception of the White House, it is the most visited home in the U.S.
This summer I interviewed Charlie McCoy, a session musician who was part of Nashville's A-Team for many years. He's been recorded with so many stars that the list of Nashville names he hasn't recorded with must be shorter than the list of those he has. Anyways, in the course of our conversation I asked "What was Elvis like?"
McCoy replied, "When Elvis entered a room, he commanded attention. He had a 'presence'... The first thing he did, he walked up to each of the musicians and shook hands. 'Thank you for helping me,' he'd say."
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Elvis was a car guy, too. (Photo from Graceland)
When I heard that story it brought to mind another anecdote from an interview with the late George Barris a few years ago. Barris was the Hollywood car guy who designed the Munsters Coach, the Batmobile and other familiar TV cars. I asked, "You’ve been part of the scene for a long time. Who would you say are some of the nicest people in Hollywood?"
After giving it a moment's thought, Barris replied, "There was a young man that I was doing a car for, and he came in here and he’d walk to my paint man, Mr. Tubbs, who has been with me for 35 years and he said, “Mr. Tubbs, how you feeling today? I heard you were sick last week?” Then he’d go to my metal man, “Mr. Tony, your 14-year-old boy is really growing now isn’t he?” He went to every man that worked on his car, called him Mr., and extended his courtesy. And that young man was Elvis Presley. He was that kind of man, a young person that respected people and would meet and greet people."
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Outfit on display at Graceland
At the end of August I was introduced to yet another man who knew Elvis personally, Tony Belmont, president and founder of the National Comedy Hall of Fame. Belmont's career as a rock and roll concert promoter go back to the days of Alan Freed, so he's known his share of household-name performers over the years.
When I asked Mr. Belmont about Elvis, he replied, "I was hired by Colonel Parker to help and co-produce the Elvis Aloha Concert from Honolulu. I was with Elvis for about three days. I've known just about all the great Rock stars. Elvis was the nicest guy you could want to spend time with."
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One of my favorite Dylan albums for a while was New Morning. One of my favorite songs on that album was "Went to See the Gypsy." I liked the prancing piano riff that kicks it off. What I most remember at the time were rumors that the song was about Elvis. I'd never been to Minnesota at that point in my life, so the setting seemed foreign and could have been Anytown USA, but having lived here four decades now it sparkles like home when Dylan sings, "in that little Minnesota town."
The entire song is fun, conveying a sense of playfulness. In describing the Elvis character (if that is the case) Dylan sings, "He smiled when he saw me comin' and he said, "Well, well, well." I can picture it.
Dylan was not shy about his admiration for Elvis. He was once quoted as saying: “The highlight of my career? That’s easy, Elvis recording one of my songs.”
For some reason "What if... ?" questions are endlessly fascinating. That's what makes the classic film "It's a Wonderful Life" starring Jimmy Stewart, Donna Reed and Lionel Barrymore so continuously entertaining. You know the story. Stewart, as George Bailey, is so down and out that he gives up on his hopeless situation and prepares to kill himself. Clarence, his guardian angel, saves his life but must also give him a reason to not give up on it all.
When George Bailey says, "I wish I'd never been born," Clarence sees his opening. Using the special power only guardian angels in fiction stories have at their disposal, he shows Bailey exactly what would have happened, and what would not have happened.
I can think of a dozen places where my life could have been completely altered had things gone other directions. A pair of "chance" meetings resulted in my attending a school in Minnesota where I met my wife, for example. Had that not occurred, my kids and now grandkids would certainly have never existed.
These are the thoughts that flicked through my brain as I listened to Brian Oxley of the Storyteller's Museum* share the story of Red Wortham. Is it possible that we might never heard of Elvis Presley had it not been for this unusual man?
It's useful to put stories in their context, and Oxley has produced a video that lays out his case. The 12-minute video, Seeing Red, now resides on YouTube. What follows are some of my notes, with an embed of the video afterwards.
SEEING RED
Record producer W.C. “Red” Wortham was born in Stewart County TN in 1920. His family lived on a mixed neighborhood street where blacks and whites got along. He evidently liked music because by the age of 13 Red and his friend Charlie were playing shows. As a teen he was getting paid to play on WLAC radio in Nashville.
At 20 Red formed his own big band orchestra that often performed at the Andrew Jackson Hotel, which became a go to spot for musicians. His location enabled him to start a music company where he could produce music and promote fellow musicians.
At a certain point he partnered with Jim Bullet of Bullet Records to expand his company’s reach. This positioned him to play a critical role in the music industry in the late 40s and early 50s.
The Prisonaires.
At age 42 he bought an old general store in Bon Aqua TN to create his distinctive recording studio, which remained active through the 60s and 70s. Throughout that time he recorded both white and black artists. African American musicians often sought him out knowing he was colorblind with regard to whom he worked with and promoted.
Red recorded hundreds of groups in a range of styles, but his recording of the Prisonaires proved to be his most significant decision.
When Frank Clement was elected governor in 1953 he appointed James Edwards to be warden at Tennessee State Prison. They brought a new attitude to the prison, focusing on the hopes of tomorrow rather than the mistakes of yesterday.
Joe Calloway, from local radio station WSIX in Nashville, was invited to broadcast from within the prison. Here he met a prisoner named Johnny Bragg who had been a singer since childhood. Bragg, who had already been behind bars 10 years, had assembled a group of guys that enjoyed singing. Joe Calloway thought they were pretty good and invited Red into the prison to record some demo tapes.
The name of their group was already taken though, so Red gave them a new name: The Prisonaires. The group was comprised of two prison gospel singers, Ed Thurman and William Stewart (each doing 99 years for murder), and two new arrivals at the prison, John Drue Jr. (three years for larceny) and Marcell Sanders (on-to-five for involuntary manslaughter).
Elvis heard this song and felt a spark.
When Red brought his equipment into the prison they recorded "Just Walkin' in the Rain" and "Baby Please"in the doo wop style of the day. Red was impressed and sent the songs he pressed to Mercury Records and Decca. When Red didn't hear back, his friend Jim Bullet recommended that he go see Sam Phillips with his fledgling Sun Records.
Phillips indeed liked what he heard, but wanted a different B-side rather than "Just Walkin' in the Rain". Fortunately, Sam Phillips didn't get his way.
To record the official 45, Jim Bullett brought the Prisonaires to Sun Records on a day pass where they worked from morning till night recording it. When the song was released in 1953 it sold 50,000 copies.
Now that you've read this far, here's the point.
The significance of "Just Walkin' in the Rain" wasn't just that it put Sun Records on the map, but that it caught the attention of a young Elvis Presley. Presley began visiting Sun Records often that year. On one of these occasions he recorded a song for his mom called "My Happiness." This was the first time his voice had been recorded.
As Phillips listened to the purity of the performance by the Prisonaires it reminded Phillips of Elvis’ voice and led Phillips to record "That’s All Right, Mama" and "Blue Moon of Kentucky." The rest is history.
EdNote: THE PRISONAIRES became so popular as a result of their hit single that they were given day passes to perform all over Tennessee. They even put on shows at the Governor's mansion.
It's probably impossible to say the Elvis phenomenon would have never happened without Red Wortham's having recorded the Prisonaires. It could be so, though. As with It's a Wonderful Life, few of us get to see what might have been. And most of us are probably unaware of how many others we ourselves have influenced, for better or worse, intentionally and unintentionally.
Brian Oxley's stories get even more intriguing when we get to the Johnny Cash chapters. But I'm reserving that for another day.
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* The story Seeing Red is but one of many important stories that have been unearthed by Brian and Sally Oxley, founders of The Storytellers Museum and Hideaway Farm in Bon Aqua, Tennessee. This is the place Johnny Cash once referred to as "the Center of My Universe."
The Museum and Hideaway has been a project undertaken by Brian and Sally Oxley of whom I intend to share more in a future blog post. I was introduced to them by Gary Firstenberg, who has been giving Nevada Bob Gordon a tour of music history's points of interest in the Deep South. For more about this magical place visit https://www.storytellershideawayfarm.com/
There's beauty in the silver singin' river, there's beauty in the sunrise in the sky, and there's richness in the simple beauty of this stellar song Bob Dylan penned as a 21-year-old.
About ten days ago I was listening to the Judy Collins station on Pandora when her version of this song played and it made me wish to share it. It's almost incomprehensible how many songs Dylan wrote as an emerging artist those first years in New York, songs so timeless and evocative that they are still being sung today. According to The Story Behind Every Song, Dylan played the song for Artie Mogull, an A&R record exec involved in Dylan's signing, and Mogull's first thought was that it would make a great number for a young Judy Collins whose star was also on the rise. Mogull called Collins to come hear it, and when she did she cried. She was first to record it as a result, and would not be the last.
Though Dylan recorded the song himself, it was part of a series of sessions never released called The Witmark Demos, which emerged in 2010 as Bootleg Series Volume 9, one of my favorite sets in the Bootleg Series. Though tapes of these sessions circulated amongst hard core Dylan circles as bootlegs, the first version of the song to arrive on vinyl appeared on his 1971 Greatest Hits, Volume II, a live recording from his 1963 concert in New York's Town Hall. Throughout the Sixties numerous other artists performed and recorded the song, however, including Harry Belafonte, We Five, Joan Baez, and the Kingston Trio. It's been recorded by countless others, and was even used in the wind-up episode of The Walking Dead. Elvis Presley also recorded itin 1966, which led Dylan to remark that this was his all-time favorite cover recording of one of his songs.
I recommend Dylan's Witmark Demo version, but have included versions by Odetta and Ms. Collins at the end of this post.
Tomorrow Is A Long Time
If today was not an endless highway
If tonight was not a crooked trail
If tomorrow wasn’t such a long time
Then lonesome would mean nothing to you at all
Yes, and only if my own true love was waitin’
Yes, and if I could hear her heart a-softly poundin’
Only if she was lyin’ by me
Then I’d lie in my bed once again
I can’t see my reflection in the waters
I can’t speak the sounds that show no pain
I can’t hear the echo of my footsteps
Or can’t remember the sound of my own name
Yes, and only if my own true love was waitin’
Yes, and if I could hear her heart a-softly poundin’
Only if she was lyin’ by me
Then I’d lie in my bed once again
There’s beauty in the silver, singin’ river
There’s beauty in the sunrise in the sky
But none of these and nothing else can touch the beauty
That I remember in my true love’s eyes
Yes, and only if my own true love was waitin’
Yes, and if I could hear her heart a-softly poundin’
Only if she was lyin’ by me
Then I’d lie in my bed once again
