Read no. 26

Greetings!

I’m just back from a trip to Nashville where I attended an IBMA board retreat and got to visit with my daughter Casey. Oh, you want a Casey report? Well, she’s currently working two part-time jobs, one at a funky eating place called Cibo that serves breakfast and lunch, and also at the bluegrass dentist’s office. (That would be Terry Comer.) Sally Jones also works there. Casey hasn’t found a job playing banjo in a band yet, but she’s networking like crazy. And, yes, she loves living in Nashville!

And speaking of Sally Jones, you’ll find a bit more about her below and inside. She was kind enough to write about a recent road trip with her new band the Sidewinders (with Kristin Scott Benson on banjo). Casey’s article dovetails with Sally’s because, since the Sidewinders were playing at Lucketts, Va., Casey decided she would ride home with me, go to see the Sidewinders at Lucketts, and then ride back with them the next day. I’ll let Casey fill you in on how that trip turned out!

And I just have to tell you this. I was at a fiftieth birthday party recently for a fellow banjo picker (male), and a few of us got out our instruments and started to pick. I was playing the banjo. One male guest immediately came over and stood there entranced by the music. He even made a request for “I’ll Fly Away,” from, he said, the movie O Brother Where Art Thou? I was feeling tolerant so I obliged him by singing it. When we finished he thanked us and then turned to me and said with amazement, “I've never seen a woman playing a banjo before!” To which I could only reply, “Where are you from ?” He said he was from “all over” and asked if there were many women who played banjo. I was proud to be able to say, “There are now!”

We’ve got a lot to say in this issue, so we’re diving in right here on the first page. And, hey, when those IBMA awards ballots come out in the next month or so, BE SURE TO REMEMBER THE WOMEN!

—Murphy Henry

Sally Jones and the Sidewinders:

Just One of Those Trips

By Sally Jones and Murphy Henry

One of the recently-formed bands from the greater Nashville area, Sally Jones and the Sidewinders, is perhaps indicative of a new trend in bluegrass: two of the four musicians are women. Sally Jones, 33, is the guitar player, front person, and primary lead singer, and Kristin Scott Benson, 25, is the banjo player. Rounding out the group are Mickey Harris, 24, on bass and Cody Kilby, 20, on mandolin. This young band operates on the “democratic” band model. Sally says, “As far as decisions, really all four of us just decide together—no one’s feelings are weighted more heavily than anyone else’s. That might not work for most people, but with this particular group, it really does. We all take a chance sometimes, and sometimes it doesn’t go well, but we don’t assign blame, because as I’ve been saying for years, nobody likes a blamer! Everyone is pretty easy going, so sometimes the hard part is getting someone to say what they want, and in the end, majority rules.”

Not assigning blame—there’s a novel thought! Just people making the best decisions they can at the time and then rolling with the consequences. As far as I can see, there was plenty of room for rolling on a recent Sidewinders road trip. I’m going to set the stage and then let Sally tell the rest of the story. The Sidewinders had two dates that weekend, Friday in Cookeville, Tenn., (an hour or so from Nashville) and Saturday in Lucketts, Va., about a 10-hour drive from Cookeville. Sally, and her husband Chris, had been in Florida all week because Chris’s father had had bypass surgery. Sally was flying back to Nashville on Friday. Her car was at the airport (she’ll tell you why below), and she was to rendezvous with the rest of the band at a prearranged meeting place in Lebanon, Tenn. Now you take it, Sal:

On Friday, returning from Florida, I even had a heck of a time in Orlando. Our flight kept being delayed, 15 minutes at a time, so I kept calling Kristin’s machine with the updates— “I’m gonna be slightly late, but we’ll still be okay” to “I’m coming in an hour late. I’ll hurry, but if it becomes imperative to leave me, go ahead, and I’ll drive my own car from the airport to Cookeville.” So instead of arriving at 3 p.m. as scheduled, I got in at 4:15. Matters get worse when I hop on the shuttle to long-term parking. (I had to leave my car at the airport because my ride, who shall remain nameless, didn’t show up to take me to the airport!) As it turns out, the shuttle also goes to satellite parking every other trip. Guess which trip I was on? I painstakingly endured 12 stops around satellite parking (I could see my car in the distance), then it was back to the airport, down the

stairs, and onto the correct (I hoped) shuttle. Another 20 minutes goes by. Not good. I get off the shuttle four stops early because I can crosscountry it to my car faster. I drive to the designated meeting spot, the faithful Travel Center at the Lebanon exit on I-40. We were to meet at four. It is now almost five. I call Cody’s cell phone. No answer. I call Mickey’s girlfriend, Crystal, who is only aware that we were to meet at four. I tell her (as home base rep) that I think they’ve come and gone, and that I’m moving on to Plan B. I drive all the way to the Cookeville Community Center, but when I arrive, no band! Mrs. Arnett tells me they haven’t yet arrived. I’m bewildered. I picture them sitting in Lebanon, waiting for me to come.

I get on the pay phone. (My calling card is hot by now). The band drives up in Cody’s Blazer, pulling a U-Haul. My question is immediately answered—they are in full Plan C mode already. They jump out, utterly relieved that I’m there, and Kristin shouts, “We love you!” Apparently the air conditioning in our band van wasn’t cold enough so they opted to take Cody’s Blazer, get the U-Haul for the instruments (Mickey plays an upright bass), and add it to the off-the-top band expenses. Cody’s radiator had been acting up, but was doing fine at the time, I guess.

The turnout in Cookeville was small but very enthusiastic and positive. We had a lot of fun playing, actually. The door money wasn’t great, although at this point we’re still okay because the U-Haul isn’t very expensive, and Cody’s vehicle is better on gas than our van. We sell a few CDs to the few people there. After the show, some loyal bluegrass fans from Cookeville actually take my car to their house and give me directions to pick it up on the way back. We head to Virginia.

We get somewhere, and the Blazer overheats. Mickey realizes he has left his wallet with $300 or so in it at the last gas stop (probably hours back down the road). We spend time trying to recall what exit, and use Cody’s cell phone to eventually track down the place, which is closed for the night. We call Crystal (again) and wake her to ask her to phone them and perhaps go there. (Footnote: why would anyone date a bluegrass musician?) She is gracious, bless her heart. (Note again: some awesome employee at the Texaco puts the wallet away and it is eventually recovered with the money intact!) Now it’s 3 a.m. and Mickey and Cody are out in the ditch getting water for the radiator. Kristin says, “It seems like being warm wouldn’t have been so bad...” At least everyone is in good spirits. We limp into Kingsport, Tenn., and get a motel room because everything is closed. Another off-the-top expense. Sigh. We call the Chevy dealer from 7 a.m. on, hoping they’re open on Saturday, and that they can work us in the next three or four hours, because the Blazer is under warranty. After Cody makes several calls, it turns out that anyone can fix it and be reimbursed. I immediately call Dr. Terry Comer’s

home to get the name of a longtime mechanical genius friend in Kingsport, Buford, and his sidekick Chester. They operate at the barn on the farm of Mrs. Gumm (Terry’s mother-in-law). I know they are good since Terry takes his Cadillacs up there to be fixed by them. Anyhow, Mrs. Gumm hollers out her door, and Buford takes on the job. In a couple of hours, they have us back on the road. The new water pump is at least $200. That’s Cody’s expense because it needed to be fixed anyway. We load them up with our CDs because they love bluegrass, and we hurry on.

Luckily the crowd was good at Lucketts, as were CD sales, and lots of friends turned up. I’m not sure of the money, but we didn’t go in the hole (definitely under $1000, I think more like $800 or so, our part of the door). We decided to head back after the show because it takes several hours to unwind, and a couple of us dread getting up in the morning after so little sleep. So on we went, passenger Casey being subjected to the torture, too. We were glad to have one more shotgun driver and all-around good pal on the way home. I was especially glad when we got back to Cookeville at 8:30 a.m. or so and I had to pick up my car. At least I had great company for that last segment of the trip. We all laughed, hugged, and chalked it up to one of those trips. We take the bad with the good altogether. I got home at 10:15, and Chris left at 10:30, but a bluegrass marriage is another whole article!

This is The Big Time

By Casey Henry

Last night I watched Almost Famous. It is a really good movie, a great movie, and you should all rush out and rent it if you haven’t seen it already. I may watch it again today before I have to return it. But it set me to thinking that, once again, the music business is being portrayed as glamorous and fun. Granted it is the rock & roll business, but I have a pretty good idea that rock & roll road life is no more glamorous than bluegrass road life. And as an example of just how unglamorous road life can be, I’ll share with you my recent trip with Sally Jones and the Sidewinders.

My trip started from Nashville with Murphy, who had been here for an IBMA board retreat. We left bright and early Saturday morning, dropping my truck off at a friend’s house so it would be closer to Sally’s house when I came back with her. Our ten-hour drive was uneventful. The weather was nice; I slept while she drove, and she read while I drove. When we got home, Red had the table all set for supper and he threw some burgers on the grill so we could have a nice family supper, minus Christopher, who was at his own apartment waiting for his girlfriend or something. The three of us drove over

to Lucketts Schoolhouse, where Sally was playing, and got there just before the show started. Also appearing was the Scott Brannon Band, who played first.

It was when we got to Lucketts that we heard the saga of all the things that went wrong on the band’s trip to Virginia. This has already been related to you, so l’ll not rehash the gory details. I’ll just reiterate that they were all running on three hours sleep and knew they weren’t going to make any money because they had had to replace a water pump in their vehicle and stay overnight at a hotel. They had two sets to play and, although the first set started out rough, they gained momentum as they went along and were received well by the crowd, not always a given at Lucketts. They even sold some CDs to help offset their expenses.

My grand plan in coming to this show had been that they would play and then come back to our house, spend the night, have a nice big hot breakfast in the morning, and head back to Nashville in their van, satiated and well rested. The first thing wrong with this plan was that they didn’t bring the van, they brought Cody Kilby’s Chevy Blazer with a U-Haul trailer on the back. The second thing wrong with the plan was that they didn’t want to stay the night. Those crazy kids are night owls and don’t like to get up in the morning. They’d rather drive all night and sleep all day. So there we were, at Lucketts after the show, getting ready to take off for an eleven-hour drive at midnight. Five people in a Chevy Blazer is not a real comfortable situation. Cody took the first shift driving and Mickey Harris shotgunned. That left Sally and Kristin and me to make our beds in the back. We put the seat down so we had one big flat surface and we lay side-by-side with our heads toward the front. Unfortunately the vehicle was not quite wide enough for three women’s butts to fit across. So I either had to lie a little on the wheel hump or on my side. But we were so close together that we couldn’t bend our knees if we were on our side, so we had to lie straight, which is also not comfortable. Another thing that made it hard to sleep was the fact that both Mickey and Cody smoke, so every half-hour or so they would crack the front windows, sending a blast of cold air to the back. We decided to sacrifice some padding and use one of the blankets underneath us for cover, so we wouldn’t wake up cold at regular intervals. We dozed that way for about three hours when Mickey switched places with Sally, who shotgunned for another couple hours. It was a little more comfortable with Mickey in the back because his hips aren’t as wide, and because Kristin flipped around and put her head at the back, giving us all more room. Luckily no one had really stinky feet. About 5 a.m. Cody turned the wheel over to Kristin, and I rode shotgun while he and Sally tried to sleep. We listened to music and talked a little, but l’m not a very good

shotgun because I’m really bad at starting and keeping conversations going. Luckily Kristin wasn’t too sleepy. We drove to Cookeville, where Sally’s car was parked at a friend’s house. Of course the key wasn’t where it was supposed to be, so we had to call the people on Cody’s cell phone because they wouldn’t wake up when we pounded on the door. We got the key and Sally and I headed to Nashville while the rest of them headed to Murfreesboro. We got to my truck at 9:15 and Sally drove home in time to see her husband Chris for about half an hour before he had to fly to Florida because his father was ill.

I got home at 9:45 and, after eating breakfast and calling my parents to assure them I’d arrived home safely (like a good daughter should), I went straight to bed. I had to get up at three to do laundry. Sally had to do her taxes to be ready for an appointment with her accountant in the morning. And this is a picture of every band’s life on the road. It’s not glamorous. Musicians just drive a lot and rush around like chickens with their heads cut off in between trips. As Murphy frequently asks me, “Are you sure you want to do this for a living?” Yes. This is not a dress rehearsal. We are professionals. This is the big time.

WIBLETS

Her Plumbing Shouldn’t Get In The Way

Hope you, Red, and the “chillren” are healthy and reasonably happy. We’ve had some doggone cold mornings and days here lately. I guess I am simply a wuss. I don’t like cold weather—never did, but had to tolerate it.

Murphy, I know from a mother’s vantage point that you worry a little about Casey going off to Nashville and into the world of bluegrass music or whatever music she goes into. But she will be okay. She has some strong stuff in her favor that you didn’t have and the attitude to back it up. So the thing I’m praying for is that no bad habits develop and that she’ll get the absolute all-fired best banjo job in the world and have something I never had, which is the chance to do this strictly from capability and to be able to enjoy it to the hilt in the process! That’s what a man would get from it after all, and her plumbing shouldn’t get in the way of her being able to do the exact same thing.

Now if we could just do away with the old “human nature” male resentment stuff. First of all, she is so well armed. Bad as times are from the women-stand-point thing, it’s still one thousand times superior to what you had to wade through, and even though you and Red were a team, just his male presence opened some doors you might have found closed. Her time of entry is a little bit different, thank God, and thank those like you who preceded her. I noticed in WIB 25 that Leslie Kostrich stated that she found it “interesting that Casey seems to be less upset about [women’s roles in the Awards

Show] than you are.” I GUESS SO, but I’ve got the right response to that statement. There’s absolutely no way Casey could take this issue as strongly as you; she will never have the exact set of circumstances you had when you were blazing the trail! And that places no blame, only states a fact. Could this younger generation who has only known computers and high tech stuff ever appreciate the old typewriters, printers, and Multilith copying procedures? I think not. Not the same playing field. To really relate, you gotta have the same circumstances. Even us old Southerners know that.

Casey has had you and Red as teachers and mentors and has a full understanding of music, not just picking ability alone, and I’ll guarantee you there “ain’t” no other female out there (the Stoneman family notwithstanding) who enjoys that advantage. Besides, like you, she is as stubborn as all get out and determined as Hades and, by God, if all that isn’t armor sufficient enough to stand up to the enemy, then I don’t know what is or who would be better equipped!

I hope that this younger generation of bluegrass male musicians will take more kindly to the female. After all, they’re running into more of them at every turn. They’d better get used to it. These girls have a new attitude, thank God. None of that demure stuff we were taught to project.

I was telling my daughter Kay the other day that I really like and admire Roni Stoneman but I get mad knowing that she had to resort to comedy to get accepted (not that she isn’t good at that, too). I think Roni has a natural ability with people and would have blossomed into a fantastic comedian anyway had she just been accepted and left alone. But I think what happened was that she had to facilitate it, had to develop it, and had to use it whether or not the comedy fit the situation at that time, just to get in and be accepted rather than to let it come naturally. I know it would have come naturally anyway because she has that ability, but at least it would have been on her terms rather than the way it was. But, you know what? She’s so wonderful that I’ll take her any way I can get her. As far as I am concerned, her strong banjo talent should have been sufficient, but, alas, it wasn’t.

Murphy, did it ever dawn on you that the fight you’ve undertaken requires a radical “about-face” of the standard male conception of female, especially the older generation? This thing is eons old. Like even from the Biblical typecasting of females. That is to say I just wonder if we (females, I mean) could have gotten into this on a more equal standing had we not been designated (or typecast if you will) as mothers, housekeepers, children keepers, nurturers, and all the other! @#$%A&* that typecasts us as not belonging out there with the men. “We supposed to be in the house, doing house stuff, massa.” Tain't so, but that’s the concept and it sure as hell didn’t start just yesterday. As us good ole

Southerners would say, it’s from waaaaaaayyyyy back yonder. (One day someone asked me what “yonder” meant and I was flabbergasted. I am sure, knowing me, I probably said something like, “Where you from? Don’t you know nothing? Yonder means way over there, or back there a piece. I can’t imagine you never using a good word like yonder!”)

Well how’s this for a visit? Hope you found something comforting here—I meant for you to. It behooves me to tell you though, you’re going to worry as long as you are Casey’s mother, and you don’t want me to have to tell you how long that will be. Take care. Opal Clifton

Palm Harbor, Fla.

Not Enough Women on Bluegrass Radio

I got WIB 25 and really enjoyed reading it. It was fun to see the opinions about IBMA side by side. I think it’s interesting that there are indeed more and more women out picking and toting their instruments at IBMA, but they are not yet represented to any significant degree in the ways that I wrote about [“Women In Key Event Roles”]. Maybe it takes time, and maybe I haven’t given it enough time. But when I listen to the bluegrass radio shows up here, I cringe when I hear 45 minutes of music without a single woman lead performer, and I cringe when the DJ runs down his list of featured performers and not a woman is mentioned. There are only two ways I know of that IBMA awards voters hear the music—at live venues and on the radio. When promoters only hire one woman-led band out of six, or eight, or ten (I’ve done some informal research on this at festivals I’ve gone to), and DJs don’t play much music by women, it’s hard to get worthy women nominated for awards. The other way people vote is by popular recognition, and I don’t know how we can influence that in the short run. The article on Sally Forrester was super! I’m glad you will be serializing your thesis. It gives a lot of food for thought and a wonderful appreciation for a woman musician about whom I knew absolutely nothing except her name and Blue Grass Boys instrument. Cheers!

Fran Larkin

Beverly, Mass.

Fran’s Letter to a DJ

Since I figure I need, every once in a while, to put my money where my mouth is, I sent the following e-mail to a DJ about his radio broadcast that I listened to this evening: Just finished listening to this evening’s broadcast and realized it’s time to write to you all. The program started with Alison Brown’s “Leaving Cottondale,” on which Bela Fleck

joins her in twin banjos. The only other cut by a woman lead artist was one off of Dolly Parton’s new album, played near the end. Two awesome pieces of bluegrass music, no doubt about it. I looked at the Bluegrass Chart in the February Bluegrass Unlimited, and eight out of the top thirty songs were by women lead artists. (I discount those such as Mark Newton’s where the male lead artist receives top billing and the woman is listed in parentheses.) Eight out of thirty means that 26.7% of the top 30 songs were by women. This percentage, 26.7%, would be 3 cuts out of 12, 13, or 14, and 4 cuts out of 15 or 16 in a one-hour radio program. I then looked back through your playlists to verify an observation I thought I had made while listening to your show over many months. Two of those shows played three or four cuts by lead women artists on playlists of 12 to 16 songs—or somewhere in the 26.7% range. Many shows had one or at the most two cuts by lead women artists. Four shows had not one song by a woman lead artist. To quote the ever-quotable Ron Thomason, “I told you that to tell you this:” I am advocating for more music by women lead artists on your show. Alison Brown, Missy Raines, Barbara Lamb, Rhonda Vincent, the Stevens Sisters, the Shankman Twins, Lynn Morris, Valerie Smith, Laurie Lewis, Kathy Kallick and, yes indeed, Dolly Parton to name a few, are just as good as most (and much better than some) of the male artists that appear over and over again on the playlist of your show. Maybe you all just need some encouragement. Well, here you go! Thanks for listening.

Fran Larkin

Grandmothers of Bluegrass?

I thoroughly enjoyed the first installment of your Master’s thesis on Sally Ann Forrester and look forward to the rest of it. I, too, have long been interested in her and in the role played by other forgotten and/or never acknowledged women of old-time and bluegrass music.

You said that many women were introduced to the music by their fathers. I’ve often thought about the fact that many of the best known men in bluegrass, Bill Monroe and Ralph Stanley, for starters, were first taught to play and inspired by their mothers! Doesn’t this make these women grandmothers of bluegrass? I like the sound of that and the “credit where credit is due” aspect of it. I think it’s time for an archaeological dig to further uncover women’s early contributions to bluegrass music! It could be fodder for another Master’s thesis for somebody! Thanks again for your article and all your work on behalf of women.

Glenda Pender

Dahlonega, Ga.

Sally Ann Forrester: Forgotten Foremother

By Murphy Henry

Part Two: In WIB 25 we looked at the early part of Sally Ann’s life. Now we find her leaving her home near Tulsa, Okla., to attend high school in Missouri. At this time she is still being called Wilene, her given name.

High School

In September of 1937, Wilene, who was just 14, entered Southwest Baptist College (now Southwest Baptist University) in Bolivar, Missouri, as an Academy student. SWBC, which is how the students referred to it, first opened in 1878, and had been a junior college since 1913. Students at the Academy did preparatory work in order to become eligible to enroll in college. The college itself was small, with just seventy students in the 1937-1938 Sophomore class. Some of the subjects Wilene took during her two years at the Academy were high school English, plane geometry, American history, and elementary Latin. Each semester she participated in either glee club, orchestra, or piano lessons. She also took voice lessons.

When Wilene moved to Bolivar to attend school, she seems to have stopped using the last name of “Robbins” (her grandparents’ last name) entirely. Her 1938 yearbook, the Mozarkian, bears the signature “Wilene Russell,” and she entered her name in her 1937-’38 autograph book as “Goldie Sue Wilene Russell.” Two grade reports are made out for “Wilene Russell.” Most of her friends refer to her as “Wilene,” although her roommate, Frances Vining, does begin her autograph with “Dear Billy, Wilene, Goldie, Roomie, or what have you.” Wilene herself signed a postcard to her “Dearest Mother” [her grandmother] “Love, Billy.” Her first year at SWBC, she lived off campus and helped pay her way by working in the kitchen. When signing Wilene’s 1938 yearbook (the only person to do so), her roommate Frances remembers, “We washed dishes together.” Her first year at SWBC, Wilene joined only one college club, the Ann Hasseltine Y.W.A. (Young Women’s Auxiliary) which her roommate Frances also joined. According to the yearbook, this organization held a “vital missionary influence on the campus.” Although Wilene’s “rhuemy” may have been the only person to sign her yearbook, 58 people at this small college signed her autograph book. From them we begin to get a real sense of Wilene’s love for music and her ability to entertain her friends with her playing and singing. She does not seem to have been shy about her playing. One gets the impression that music was simply a natural part of her everyday life. She played her guitar and sang in the house where she lived, she sang on the way home from picnics, she played in churches (probably piano), she sang on the porch in the moonlight to a

group of friends, both male and female, she sang in church and in chapel, and she played and sang in guitar and fiddle “sessions” with her friends Virginia Lee Poor and Jean Spencer. Her singing made a strong impact on her friends. The phrase “I like to hear you sing” comes up so many times it is like a broken record. “Dear Billy,” reads one entry, “Even if everybody says so too, I must say that I love to hear you play guitar and sing. Of course...your piano playing is marvelous, too.” “I’ll always remember the little singing gal from Oklahoma” was another comment. “I’ll always remember you as the Hillbilly singer of Southwest,” wrote one signer. The songs that we know she sang during her years at SWBC, however, are not specifically hillbilly songs: “Jesus Hold My Hand,” “Little Coquette,” “Let Me Call You Sweetheart,” and “Shine On, Harvest Moon.” Other comments that stand out from both the autograph books and her 1939 yearbook are references to her “sweet smile” and “pleasant” or “sunny disposition” and, perhaps more intriguing, her conversion. Bob Forrester believes his mother grew up in the Pentecostal Church, but that her grandmother, Sudie, became disillusioned with it and left the church before Wilene attended SWBC. Bob adds that “Sudie was not above joining any church that would afford opportunity...to Mama.” But apparently sometime during her first months at SWBC, Wilene underwent a religious conversion because an autograph dated January 10, 1938, says “I shall never forget the night of your conversion My! Were we ever happy.” Given her age and the religious atmosphere, I do not find her conversion surprising. Many autographs mention prayer, several are from her “prayer-mates,” a number have specific religious overtones, and quite a few close with phrases such as “Yours in Christ” or “Your friend and His.” A number of autographs, from both women and men, mention her conversion, one noting specifically “the great change that has come over you since you have been at SW.” In 1939, the editor of the Mozarkian, Laura Sewell, still recalls the event saying, “I’ll always remember you as the way you looked the night you were converted. It made us all so very happy.” Even friends who mentioned her singing often tied it to religion: “I am hoping you will always sing for the Glory of Christ.”

During Wilene’s second year at the SWBC Academy, 1938-1939, the clubs she joined possibly reflected her conversion experience for she was a member of many that had a missionary or evangelical focus. These included the Volunteer Band, which was not a musical band but a group of students who participated in “winning the lost to Christ.” She was still a member of the Ann Hasseltine Y.W.A., and had also joined the Life Service Conference, a relatively new organization with only 16 members (15 female) “who have dedicated their lives to the service of the Master.” Wilene was the pianist for the organization the second semester. Bob Forrester said that at one time he thought his mother had planned to go into mission work. She sang alto in the Mixed Chorus, which gave programs both at the college and at the local church, and she was also a

member of the Baptist Student Union. At the end of the 1939 school year, one friend, looking ahead to the next year said, “I know you will be a swell B.S.U pianist.” Interestingly enough, one of the Artist Courses offered at SWBC this year featured a five-piece ensemble called the “Continental G____ Ensemble” that included a piano accordion played by a woman, Gloria Romano. The ensemble “appeared in costume” and presented a program that was “one of the best offerings of the season.” Romano not only played with the whole ensemble, she had two solos on the program, one of which was “G____ Folk Songs.” Undoubtedly, Wilene saw this production, and possibly tucked this performance away in her mind.

During the ’38-’39 school year, Wilene lived on campus in Muirhead Hall, the girls’ dorm, and was still “slingin’ dishwater” to help with expenses. “Remember all those dirty dishes at noon and potatoes to peel before breakfast” wrote one of her friends in her autograph book. Once more her autograph book is full of signatures, many of which mention her singing and playing. “I shall remember you as the girl who made folks ‘prick up their ears’ and listen when you began to play and sing.” More friends are starting to refer to her as “Billie,” and she herself writes her name in her yearbook as “Billie Sue Russell,” now living in Tulsa, Oklahoma, instead of Avant. This year her yearbook and her autograph book are both filled with autographs which mention her playing—both guitar and piano—and singing with regularity. Her violin playing is also mentioned: “May your keyboard give out as beautiful music as your violin....”

One of her friends, Virginia Lee Poor [now Gray], tells us that Wilene played in a violin quartet for which Virginia furnished the piano accompaniment. The three other members of the quartet were music professor Mr. Buchholtz, “Bookie;” a friend Jean Spencer; and one of the “preacher boys” (boys who came to SWBC to study to be ministers). They played mostly classical music and gave performances at area high schools to encourage students to attend SWBC. They traveled by car as far away as Eminence, Missouri, about 150 miles, to perform, which Virginia still remembers today as being a very big deal. Back then Virginia wrote, “I shall never, never forget the ‘sessions’ ‘we-uns’ have had with our guitars & fiddles. I guess we couldn’t call it music except yours and Jean’s parts..." In the 1939 yearbook, there is a picture of Virginia and Wilene with their guitars.

Obviously, Wilene’s friends and schoolmates were well aware of her musical proclivities. They were also aware of her musical leanings. “I'll always remember you as the Hillbilly singer of Southwest” said one singer. Three autographs specifically mention the “Playboys,” the Bob Wills band whom Wilene had seen on numerous occasions at Cains Academy. “And those ‘Playboys’—well, they just can’t be beat.” And “Kid, I’ll

always like the ‘Play-boys’ because they mean so much to you.” One friend jokingly refers to them as “those grand fellows, the Plowboys.” One of the most intriguing autographs indicates that Wilene may have been on the radio before she entered SWBC. On April 17,1938, Margaret Wise writes, “Please don’t forget to let me know when you go back on the radio.” (This radio station might have been KTUL in Tulsa, for in 1946 when Wilene was appearing on KTUL, the KTUL newsletter welcomes her as returning performer. However, Joe Forrester, Billie’s brother-in-law, thinks this reference in the newsletter is incorrect.) Another autograph says, “I hope to hear you over the radio this summer.” And another: “I’ll be expecting to hear you on the radio sometime this summer.” One can’t help but wonder what these tantalizing remarks are referring to. Was Billie already preparing to audition for a job on the radio? Had she already auditioned and secured a job? Both Bob and Joe Forrester think that Sudie, who was now living in Tulsa, could have found out about auditions by listening to the radio and would have encouraged Billie to audition.

Wilene was apparently planning to return to SWBC in the fall of 1939 because many autographs mention “looking forward to seeing you next year” or “hoping we’ll both be back next year or “I’m expecting to see you next year.” Wilene might even have thought about going on to a college after SWBC because one friend says, “Maybe we’ll go to Baylor together.” But, as often happens, Fate had other plans. And, at this point in our narrative, we will begin to refer to Wilene as “Billie,” for this is the way she apparently began to think of herself.

Enter Howard Forrester

In May 1939, after Billie had completed two years at the SWBC Academy, she returned home to Tulsa. She was 16. Soon she would be meeting her future husband, Howard “Howdy” Forrester, a fiddling farm boy from Tennessee. He and his brother Joe had just arrived in Tulsa with Herald Goodman and the Tennessee Valley Boys to play on radio station KVOO. Howard had just turned 17.

Howard Wilson Forrester was born in Hickman County,Tennessee, 60 miles southwest of Nashville, March 31,1922. He was the youngest of four brothers: Clyde (b. 1914), Clayton (b. 1916), and Joe (b. 1919). [Howard was given the nickname “Big Howdy” by Herald Goodman, but he never cared for it. It was strictly a stage name. He signed all his letters “Howard,” and his brothers still refer to him as “Howard” in a soft Tennessee accent which somehow manages to reduce the name to one syllable. For this reason, I will refer to him as Howard unless he is being referred to in his stage persona.] When Howard was five, his father, Stephen Allen Forrester, a fine fiddler, was killed when the car in which he was riding was struck by a train. His mother, Emmie Lee Totty Forrester, stayed on their farm until Howard was a teenager, when they moved to Nashville.

Howard had musicians, including fiddlers, on both sides of his family. His father was one of the best fiddlers in the area, his Grandfather Totty played the fiddle, and his great uncle, Bob Cates, was also a good fiddler who took Howard under his wing. Howard started playing fiddle when he was about nine. He had a bad bout with rheumatic fever and was out of school for a year. During this time he learned to play fiddle with his mother humming or whistling the melody for him.

Howard's first professional job was with Herald Goodman and the Tennessee Valley Boys in 1938, when he was 16. Both Howard and his brother Joe, who was three years older, joined the band. Howard was on fiddle, Joe was on bass, Billy Byrd was on guitar, and Virgil Atkins played banjo. Goodman did comedy and served as emcee. Goodman had been a member of the popular vocal group, the Vagabonds, who were members of the Grand Ole Opry. When the Vagabonds parted company for good in 1938, Goodman put together the Tennessee Valley Boys. The group worked the territory around Nashville during the week and played the Opry on Saturday nights. They also made some recordings for Victor's Blue Bird label in Rock Hill, S.C., in 1938. Joe Forrester mentions that Goodman had also hired Fiddling Arthur Smith to be the featured performer in the show, using him as a “drawing card” because Goodman knew that the Tennessee Valley Boys were not very well known. As historian Charles Wolfe notes, at the time, Smith was “about the hottest act on the Opry.” When Joe and Howard were playing with the Tennessee Valley Boys, Goodman hired Georgia Slim Rutland to play twin fiddles with the band. Howard remembers this as being his and Joe’s suggestion, although he credits Goodman with coining the term “twin fiddles.” Wolfe says that with Howard, Slim, and Arthur Smith, Goodman had “three of the most famous fiddlers in Southeastern music.” Although Howard and Slim were featured as the twin fiddlers, and Arthur Smith was a featured performer, Goodman also featured the three fiddlers playing together.

The Tennessee Valley Boys worked with Goodman around Nashville until the end of 1938 when the band—Goodman, the Forresters, Fiddling Arthur Smith, Slim Rutland, Curt Foulton, who was an original member of the Vagabonds, and Gus Foster, a promoter, booking agent, and emcee who had worked in West Virginia and

Kentucky—left the Opry and moved into east Texas for a short while. In Texas the Tennessee Valley Boys worked at a small station in Kilgore for just a few weeks and played the schools and theaters in that area. But Foster and Goodman were looking for greener pastures. They found them in Tulsa, Oklahoma, where they talked their way into a spot on KVOO, the 25,000 watt radio station where Bob Wills had begun broadcasting in 1934. The entire band relocated to Tulsa. According to Howard, the arrangement with KVOO was that the band “got a spot up there with a commission to play a barn dance and do [radio] programs, and we went in with a guarantee of so much

money.” Howard started out at $20 a week, which he thought was “the most wonderful thing I'd ever heard in my life.”

Saddle Mountain Roundup

The “barn dance” was Herald Goodman’s idea, and he called it the Saddle Mountain Roundup. It officially began on April 1, 1939, with a “top admission price of 40 cents per person.” According to the KVOO business manager at the time, Claymon Foster, “More than 4,000 people witnessed this opening, and we turned away approximately another thousand.” The show started at 9 p.m. and ran until 11:00 p.m., with one hour of the show, from 10:00 until 11:00, being broadcast on KVOO. The show ran for eleven weeks in Convention Hall in Tulsa, and then took to the road, playing every Saturday night in towns in Oklahoma, Kansas, and Arkansas. Obviously, when the show began in April, Billie was still in school.

Before Goodman could put on a big barn dance-type show, however, he needed more acts than just the Tennessee Valley Boys and Fiddling Arthur Smith. So he started auditioning talent. One of those who auditioned and won a spot for the show was Wilene “Billie” Russell. Probably she auditioned by playing guitar and singing because this is how she was featured on the show. We do not know if she also played the fiddle at her audition. It is pretty certain that she was not playing accordion at this time. Although autographs in her college yearbook and autograph books indicate Billie might have played on the radio before the Saddle Mountain Roundup, we simply don’t know for sure. We do know that she was a seasoned amateur performer, accustomed to performing on piano, violin, and guitar in various formal and informal situations at S WBC. By June 17, 1939, Billie was a regular member of the Saddle Mountain Roundup. She was billed as the “Little Orphan Girl,” a stage persona created by Goodman. “He had a knack for making up names,” Joe Forrester said. We do not know for sure if the fact that Billie had been orphaned by her mother had any bearing the name Goodman chose, but it seems likely. A Chelsea, Okla., newspaper clipping (September 7, 1939) titled “The Orphan Girl[:] Radio’s Latest Find” mentions that “[t]he Orphan Girl...is really and truly an Orphan Girl.” This article is undoubtedly based on publicity material supplied by either Herald Goodman or Gus Foster. (Although I never thought of Billie as being an orphan, in a phone conversation, her friend Virginia Poor referred to her as an “orphan child.”) As was the style at the time, the Little Orphan Girl had her own spot as a featured artist on the show, and the Tennessee Valley Boys backed her up. Having a number of solo artists accompanied by a “house” band enabled a promoter to feature a greater number of acts in the show and in the advertising without having to carry too many people on the payroll.

Our first glimpse of Billie in her new profession is from the KVOO Lariat, June 1939, a newsletter devoted to the Saddle Mountain Roundup. Here she is referred to as simply “The Orphan Girl.” In a column titled “With the Round-up Folks,” which provides a listing of all the Saddle Mountain Roundup players, we find her listed fourth: “The Orphan Girl and the three Fiddlers, a new act, Singer and Yodeler. She is Wilena [sic] Russell a member of the Famous Russell Family.” When asked about the “Famous Russell Family,” Joe says that was probably some of Herald Goodman’s inventive publicity. The Tennessee Valley Boys, who are listed first, now consisted of “Curt Poulton, wizard of the Guitar, Big Howard and Georgia Slim, the twin fiddlers, and good old Lespedesa [Joe Forrester], the ace slap bass player and comedian of the Saddle Mountain Roundup.” Goodman, now known as “Cousin” Herald Goodman, was the producer and emcee of the show. The Three Young Maids, a new act from Sand Springs, Oklahoma, had second billing. (They should not to be confused with the Three Little Maids from Decatur, Illinois, who played over WLS in the early 1930s. The name “Young Maids” was surely inspired by “Little Maids.”) Other acts included Rowdy Wright and his Jolly Cowboys; Cowboy Jim; Steely Bros., “one of the southwest’s finest hillbilly bands” and the Little Captain, the son of one of the band members; Buster Brown, a yodeling Indian; Little Johnny Leach, a 12-year-old fiddle player and his girl friend (note that she is unnamed; Joe Forrester said she played guitar); the Sooner Sweethearts, “one of Oklahoma’s own girl trio[s]”; and Junior Webster, a “boy sensation” with a “wonderful voice.” Fiddling Arthur Smith, who is not mentioned, is apparently no longer with the Roundup. It is important to note that there are other female performers with the Roundup.

Little Orphan Girl

From a publicity photo, we know that the three fiddlers mentioned here were Billie, Howdy, and Slim, not Howdy, Slim, and Arthur Smith, who was no longer listed with the band or the Roundup. As Joe Forrester mentioned, “She could play fiddle, too. And she used to play on our radio show, we’d have three fiddles. Sometimes, maybe on her song, she’d play fiddle, [they’d] play three fiddles, and she would sing the song, too.” The photo, taken in front of a KVOO microphone, shows Billie, attired in her Little Orphan Girl outfit (described below) holding her fiddle, ready to play, with Slim on her left and Howdy on her right. She has on a light-colored western hat; Slim and Howdy, who are in checked shirts and trousers, are bare-headed.

A publicity photo of the Little Orphan Girl taken at the same time shows her in a cowgirl outfit, complete with a light-colored western hat, a knotted neckerchief, a fringed cowgirl skirt, and western boots. She is making a C chord on her small-bodied archtop Gibson guitar (with celluloid fingerboard), poised to strum, holding a flatpick between her thumb

and index finger. Her outfit hardly bespeaks “orphan girl.” It was however, in keeping with the Western motif that country music was in the process of adopting at the time. In Oklahoma, this outfit was perhaps not as outlandish as it would have been back in the hills of the Tennessee. And there is at least one picture of a teenaged Billie actually on a horse.

According to Charles Wolfe and Patricia Hall, singer/guitarist Billie Maxwell, billed as the Cow Girl singer, may have been the “first female recording artist to utilize the cowgirl image which was to become so dominant in the 1930s.” They also note that she “almost certainly came by this cowgirl image honestly.” Billie Maxwell recorded in El Paso, Texas, in 1929, and may have been from New Mexico. It was Patsy Montana, however, who had popularized the cowgirl image in 1935, with her hit “I Want To Be A Cowboy’s Sweetheart,” county music’s first million seller by a female artist. As Bufwack and Oermann note, with this “cowgirl image—the strong, good-humored saddle pal—Patsy Montana gave female country performers their first new solo style. The cowgirl was an alternative to the shy country sweetheart...This...image was soon adopted by dozens of other Depression-era females.” Of course, the cowgirl outfit does not seem to fit the stereotypical image of a Depression-era orphan girl, but it must have worked because Billie carried this stage persona with her to her next several jobs.

It is interesting to contrast the stage attire of the Little Orphan Girl with that of Rachel Veach who played the banjo with Roy Acuff and the Smoky Mountain Boys and Girls. (Rachel would become a close friend of Billie’s later on.) Interestingly enough, Rachel joined Roy’s group on April 1, 1939, the same day the Saddle Mountain Roundup started. She wore a “typical country dress” of “red and white checked gingham” complete with high button shoes, white stockings, and bloomers showing beneath her dress. (They matched her dress in one picture). She also blacked out one tooth. The hayseed, hillbilly image was certainly in keeping with how George D. Hay had envisioned (and re-dressed and renamed) all the performers, both men and women, on WSM’s Grand Ole Opry. When Rachel finally got a new costume, a “pretty blue dress that is perfection with her red hair,” it got a big mention in Minnie Pearl’s Grinders Switch Gazette.

In addition to the Saddle Mountain Roundup, the Tennessee Valley Boys had an early morning radio show on KVOO, which Billie also played on. At night, when they could find the work, they would also travel to places around Tulsa, such as theaters and high schools, to play. But they never went very far or stayed out overnight, because they had to be back for the radio show the next morning.

By January 1940, the Little Orphan Girl was listed as one of the Tennessee Valley Boys, along with Big Howdy and Joe Forrester, Georgia Slim, and Red Penn. “Cousin” Herald Goodman was still the producer and master of ceremonies, and Junior Webster was still on the program. The other acts, however, were new: the Vagabond Cowboys from WLS; Professor Handsome Harry Adams from WLW; Melviney Plunkett, “the fastest talking woman on earth;” Bill Barrett, “the dancing English cow chappie,” Homer Callahan, of the Callahan Brothers; and Ray Whitley, the “singing cowboy” of movie fame. Now there were a total of eight acts on the Saddle Mountain Roundup, two bands and six singles. Note that Melviney Plunkett was only one other woman listed as part of the show. Although Herald Goodman did not allow members of his show to date each other, Bob Forrester says that Howard and Billie must have been “sorta dating on the sly.” When Goodman caught them at a movie together, he didn’t do anything about it. “He could see it was pretty serious,” said Bob. Howard’s brother Joe said that at some point Goodman asked Howard the old-fashioned question, “Are your intentions honorable?” Howard answered that they were, and this must have satisfied Goodman.

Joe says that sometimes when they would be traveling to a job he would put his bass fiddle inside the car, instead of on top, where it was often carried. The neck of the bass would be the front, and the body of the bass would be in the middle of the back seat. Three people would sit up front, and two would sit in the back. When Billie and Howard were sitting in the back, Joe said, “I’d be driving down the road, and it wouldn’t be too long, I’d see that bass fiddle move over and one of them’d be scooting under the bass to get to the other side. We’d all laugh loud and long.”

The Saddle Mountain Roundup lasted only a year. Perhaps the show had played the territory out. Georgia Slim Rutland, who was with the Tennessee Valley Boys on the Saddle Mountain Roundup, said in an 1969 interview with Earl Spielman, “I don’t think [Herald Goodman] was interested in establishing a show and letting it go on and on and on. He’d peak it, get what there was to be made, pull out, go someplace else and promote another one, for example.” For whatever reason, Herald Goodman was starting to play theaters, not big barn dance type places, and, according to Joe Forrester, he was “trimming the show down.” By March of 1940, he had let the Tennessee Valley Boys go, but he allowed them to keep the name. They were not being paid very well at this time, so perhaps they were glad to be looking for more lucrative work. Howard, Joe, and brothers Red (fiddle, bass, and guitar) and Chuck Penn (guitar) went down to Wichita Falls, Texas, (in north Texas, just across the border from Oklahoma) to try to find work. Billie did not go with them; she stayed in Tulsa. (Georgia Slim Rutland also did not leave at this time. Shortly after this, he and Gus Foster would head to Dallas.) They were unsure of what they would find, and Joe says it was “safer” and “better for

her to stay.” Having an unmarried woman along would have certainly complicated living arrangements—Billie would have needed separate living quarters, which would have meant spending more money. And Billie and Howard almost surely did not want to marry without the security of a job. Bob Forrester says that his mother and dad must have had an “agreement between them [that] if things worked out he was going to send for her.”

Letters From Howard

We can gain a little insight into what was going on from some letters Howard wrote to Billie, or as he called her “Bill.”The first one confirms the idea of an understanding, or as Howard called it “our setup.” In a letter to Miss Wilene Russell in Tulsa, from Wichita Falls, postmarked [Thursday] March 7, 1940, Howard writes:

Dearest Bill:

We got here last night about dark and spent the nite in a hotel and took an audition this morning at 9:15 and we will put our first program on in the morning at 6:45. Pretty fast, eh? Boy, that ride from Oklahoma City down here was the lonesomiest thing I ever did in my life...They seemed well pleased with the act at W.K.Y. but I think it was just another schrewy [sic] radio station. We have really got a spot starting Monday. We play from 6:00 until 7:00 but they read the news all thru that spot and play organ music, too, so our part will amount up to about 30 minutes.

You remember I promised I wouldn’t say things were good when they weren't, so here’s the set up and we hope it’s good. We get to announce our dates and do most of the m.c. (master of ceremonies) ourselves and hope to do all of it later on, but, honey, I did it on the audition and made them like it. Ha. (The Big Howdy.) If we get straightened out here and sold commercially, we will do fine because they were really glad to have us here and said they needed our act...

Well, here it is—I would rather be in Tulsa right now than any other place I know of and would I like to see you—but don’t you tell anyone I’m homesick or say anything about our setup. We rented an apartment today and we live with a nice couple who have two girls. One is about 12 and the other five and in the door staring me right in the face. She really is cute. You’ll like her when you come down...

Love,

Howard

The band had auditioned at another station, WKY, in Oklahoma City, on their way to Wichita Falls, but, as the letter shows, they didn’t land a job there.

In a letter postmarked March 28, 1940, from Wichita Falls, Howard writes:

Dearest Bill!

How are you? You little devil—...So you accused me of sleeping Sunday and being drunk? I’ll have you know we left here at 11 o’clock Sunday morning and worked a theater all day. So there. Ha. Yes, and another thing. A hillbillie is good for only a little while, are they? I think you meant that, too, and if you think that I even want to get out and forget that I am a married man you’re crazy. Don’t take this too seriously. It was written with a good attitude...

...if you find something that sounds a little “nutty ” please excuse it as our sleep is limited to about 4 or 5 hours per day. Wonder if the Roundup will go over as big in Muskogee this Saturday nite as it did before. I hope so for Goodman’s sake... Don’t kid me about wanting a job. You’re in “seventh heaven” up at that radio station and don’t deny it. It gets in your blood, don’t it? Ah—come on now and tell the truth. You’re still there, aren’t you? Tell them all we send our regards.

We played our first dance Tuesday nite and have two more this week and they are all on flat note [a prearranged fee, not for a percentage of the door] so that makes it good. They dance from 9 til 1:00.

Boy, are they crazy about square dances down here. They can dance all night and never get tired...I am The Big Howdy from the lone star state of Texas. Ha. How about coming down and see me this summer? You’d better!...

Love,

Howard

Apparently, from what this letter says, Billie was still on the radio, possibly still with Herald Goodman and the Saddle Mountain Roundup. Howard did not know for sure because, as he mentioned in a March 27 letter, they didn’t get a chance to listen to the radio. The remark about his being a “married man” is confusing. Bob Forrester assured me, however, that there was no “secret marriage.” He thinks that the “understanding” between Howard and Billie made Howard consider that he was already, for all practical purposes, a married man and therefore not free to “get out.” And, as Howard notes, he didn’t want to.

An April 2 postcard from Howard in Wichita Falls, indicates that he might have heard Billie on the radio. He says, “I sure enjoyed your bawling out. That was just what I needed to pep me up. But that singing was uncalled for, you little—”

Bob Forrester says the “bawling out” is a most likely a reference to Billie’s singing. He points out that his dad was always teasing his mom. The postcard is signed, as always, “Love, Howard.”

On May 18, Howard drops Billie a line from Wichita Falls to say, “I’m studying about you.” He also says, “I’m coming up about the 31st...Joe may come with me, but we will set something anyway. I'll be studying about you till then.” The “set something anyway” may refer to their making final plans to get married.

On May 23, Howard writes from Decatur, Texas, saying “Boy, it sure is good to be in a big town once more...We made some progress today...” I have no clue as to what the “progress” is. Bob Forrester is sure that it is work related.

Then, on May 31, 1940, Howard sent a telegram from Wichita Falls to Miss Wilene Russell: “Come prepared to stay. Bring fiddle. Howard Forrester KWFT”

“And she did,” Bob Forrester said, “for 47 years.”

We’ll have more about Sally Ann in the next issue. Stay tuned!

Sally Ann Forrester Scholarship

A few months ago I was asked if Women in Bluegrass offered scholarships, specifically to young women who are heading to college and planning to pursue bluegrass as a career. At the time, of course, we did not. But then I thought, “What a wonderful idea!” So I have decided to start the Sally Ann Forrester Scholarship fund. As most of you know by now, Sally Ann Forrester, the original bluegrass girl, played accordion with Bill Monroe and the Blue Grass Boys from 1943-1946. (The second installment of her story begins on page 6.)

This year I would like to raise between $500 and $1000 to give to some worthy young woman. So that’s just ten of us giving $100 or twenty of us giving $50. I’ll start by putting $100 in the Scholarship Fund. When we give out the scholarship, I will tell you all about it in WIB. If you would like to contribute, send your check to Women in Bluegrass, Sally Ann Forrester Scholarship, POB 2498, Winchester, VA 22604. If you would like more information, email me at [email protected]. I would love to be able to give out a Sally Ann Forrester Scholarship every year. And I think it is wonderful that many women are now in a financial position to be able to help other women, especially as they seek to carry the bluegrass torch.