Oral History Interview with Pee Wee King

Yeah, we were lookin'(??) at it -lot of fun doin' it, too. As Wayne said the other day, he said, “you mean you got into a bidness [business] where nobody gave you a guaranteed salary?” Just everything, pitch till you win and all that. We didn't starve and I don't think I would have there was always my mother and dad on the farm! I could go back home.

My dad had two boys after I left so it didn't make any difference -my brother Max or Ruben as we call him -and then Gene came along, but Gene never liked to farm at all. He hated the farm, and he hated school. So now he wound up at a record shop for the last 40 years.

Gene came out of the Anny and stopped here. He was an MP in the Anny. And we came here --he wore that MP emblem one time -kiddin' us about Minnie Pearl havin' that on (??) -he said, “I want to save this for remembrance.” I said, “what are you goin' to do?” “I guess go to Milwaukee and see if I can get a job up there.” I says, “well, how about here?” I says, “Dolores is at the office and put another chair and another desk in there, and you can join her.” And he was in there about a couple of weeks and then finally says, “Dolores has got things under such good control that you don’t have to worry about nothin [anything].” He said, I'd rather go on the road for ya.”

So, he and Neal Burris, who was also a billing act -he was called the Shufflin' Cowboy --he was shufflln' before Elvis ever shuffled! Back in '53 and '54 and that -but we never let him shuffle with the whole thing -movements that Elvis put on. It wasn't proper with a country music show.

Gene then got married -met a girl from Louisville. She was actually from Bowling Green, and we played a park date here out at Fontaine Ferry Park, and we liked her. Couple of weeks later they got married, but she didn't like for him to be gone all the time. He was our road manager; he would get in town a day or two early and leave pamphlets or flyers or stuff like that. See to the stage, and that the radio station got records. And he was with him because Neal needed a break --he was on a small record label -and finally when he was with me, he got on Columbia, which was a big record label. And he went on the road with Gene, and they had to advance -they’d run into the radio station and introduce themselves[ves] and say, “I want to be on Pee Wee King's show when it comes here-- we'll be here Thursday and Friday, or Saturday,” or somethin' like that. And this gave him a break.

And then he started writing songs --we published his songs --and he finally got a break. We had a girl singer with us by the name of Bonnie Sloan (??) from California --her partner sent her out here. He said, “I wanted her to get Midwest exposure.” And she was on Capitol Records at that time, which was a big label also in its day. And she and Neal hit it off singin' together -their voices blended. So, we had a boy and girl duet.

I used to have a boy and girl duet between Curley Rhoades and his sister Texas Daisy --we'd make ' em’ sing. And I'd ask ‘em question on the (??) I said, “then do you love to sing with Texas Daisy?” He said,” I sure do.” I said, well, then you love Texas Daisy.” He said, “I sure do.” And I said, “you do?” He said, “yeah, she's my sister--why shouldn’t' t I love her? [chuckles].” People didn't know it because he was dressed up in a rube outfit -comedy --'cause he did Odie and Jodie.

When you perform, you want each of your performers to have a stage personality. it's a conscious effort. First thing, you got to know how to get on and off de [the] stage. And don' t fall over any amplifiers or ... some of those guys today, they got more wires on stage than the Western Union. They've got to climb over 'em --climb over 'em, sound effects that they put on and everything else. But, I learned from the best one of all -that was Mr. Autry, when he taught me how to bow with my hat --take it off.

I used to take that little cowboy hat and hold it like a Boy Scout and just say, “ladies and gentlemen, the star of our show --there he comes --Gene Autry.” He said, “if you do that one time more, I'm going to take you and kick you where it hurts the most. I'll kick your brains out.” I said, “ok --you show me.” He says, “take that cowboy hat and crush it -it ain't [is not] goin' to bust.” And he says, “you go down and sweep the floor with it.” And I said, “but it'll get dirty”. He said, “[It] can be cleaned off.” Then he said, “you come up and put it back on.” And now he says, “ladies and gentlemen, the singin' star of the National Barn Dance, Oklahoma's singin' cowboy and star of the movies' Republic Pictures, here he is --Gene Autry.” And he said, “always look on what side you're comin' out of because you might have to come from de [the] other side.

And de [the] first time I did dat [that], all right -I missed catchin' him on the side he was standin' on. And I pointed to the wrong side. I said, “oh, dere [there] he is [chuckles].” And those are the little tings [things] that can ....

And the person at the microphone is the most important one of the show right then, It's his time to act. He's the principal of the show. And that's why he’s there -in front of that microphone. He can do what he wants -when he does his act, that's it. And he goes back to the background again and then he becomes a musician or--but the person who controls the show is the emcee. In my case, I had to emcee, I knew I couldn't do singin'--I wasn't too good [of] a singer and I'm still not too good [of] a singer. And I always told jokes, so it worked out fine.

I like emceeing. All those agents out east used to hire emcees especially for that, and then when they hired us, they got a built-in emcee. I sometimes emceed five shows a day. That's at some of them [those] theaters, out east. Do five shows a day out east and you really worked because, they were good theaters. And, I had my trick horse with me on the road and that was even worse. I was very seldom seen on stage---my horse was more important to me than I was.

Here's the story on how I happened to get the horse. I come [came] home]-- -I was out of town somewhere. My father-in-law -I don't know where he seen [saw] this fellow but he said, “there’s a guy here at the hotel and he's got his trick horse with him, and I'd like you to go look at him.” He says, “I saw him already, and he does pretty good with him.” And he says, “I tink [think] it's about time for de [the] fairs and sane of them [those] parks and festivals. You get a horse.” I said, “oh, my God, no with all the truck I got!” He said, “you’re going to get a horse.” I said, “Ok then.” You got a horse, and saddle and trainer and a truck hitched to the--horse in there, and that was it. That was in the early '5Os. That was back before then because I came here in '47, and I already had the horse. I brought both of 'em up here --I had Boots and Boots Jr.

I was living in Goodlettsville, Tennessee, I had 7 acres down there. That's where I was living when I brought the horse here. I had a regular Western-style ranch with the fence on it. Did you see that picture -"Don't Fence Me In" and all? I guess some of that's background --you can tell it's a horse barn there and then [a] three-car garage. I bought the spread in Goodlettsville when I was on the Grand Ole Opry about '46. That was my base then. I lived on the 7 acres--it was a farm. We had three houses together -I lived in one of 'em with the barn and the horses and that, and the three-car garage. And we built a barn and my father-in-law lived next door in the next house. And then his youngest son -one of the twins --he went and bought the third house. So, we had three houses with two little bridges across --two little creeks runnin' into the highway 31--that comes into Nashville. I sold it. We paid about 8 or 9,000 dollars for the house. My God, that was a lot of money at that time. I imagine it would be worth a lot more now. I'd do it all over.

About developing personalities, single boys usually would be the guys that would kinda of lean to pleasin' the younger crowd--the girls and that. And then like a gospel group --they'd know that they were going to entertain the middle-age people or religious type. So, they were solemn and somber and were siingin' good, too. And then we had --they were [the] Golden West Quartet--that was the four boys that were chosen out of the group to sing religious stuff or some other gospel and that. Then we had three boys that we took out of the band, and we called 'em the Bardstown Bucklebusters.

They were three guys --well, only one of 'em was heavyset- -but they were three guys who played each other's instrument. They didn't get an act. One would play the mandolin, the other one [would] play the guitar, the other one [would] play the bass fiddle. And sometimes they'd put a fourth one in with the violin. And they'd switch around and keep the same tune goin' all the time. And then I'd go and ask the bass player,” I want to join in, too.” He says, “you'll never be a bucklebuster.” I says, “I don't want to be a bucklebuster.” And I said, “don’t call me buster, either.” [chuckles] So we'd start on that routine. And I said, “when you call me that, them's [those are] fightin' words.” He said, “well, why don't you fight?” I said, “I don't fight except in the ring---why don't we step outside and make our own ring?” And I'd punch him in the belly, and we just carried on --and humorous. That wasn't scripted, but we knew what to do. He knew what I was gonna do, and I would know what he was gonna do. We did it over and over. And added to it.

But there were certain performers we never would have played around with in the same way because they had a certain image. Charisma, they had, that's what you build on. I always remember when Mr. Frank said, “the way we're gonna introduce you --say oh, here's little Pee Wee with that big accordion. Get up on the soapbox now and play us a tune.” See, and I was called little Pee Wee. And that was my image. That's what they wanted to do.

But you couldn't joke around with all the performers on the stage. Sometimes it wouldn't gel -he wasn't in the mood. After about 400 or 600 miles, you weren't ready to tell jokes. But, we still had to perform for the audience; you got on that stage and you left all the worries down in the dressin' room.

I am proudest of my marriage. My wife and my family. It come[s] first. After 55 years, I guess, it proves somethin'. Number two was when I was inducted in the Hall of Fame --that was about as good as you can get. I thought gettin' the number one western band leader award was kind of a highlight in our lives, but it didn't do as much for me as I got when I got in the Hall of Fame. You had to be somethin' or somebody or else you wouldn't a got in there.

Except for the awards, highlights of my career might have been, to me personally--the things I used to do were not for myself personally--not for personal gains as much as it was for the group, that I represented. Because if you had a group of people and they were conscious of things that you were tryin' to do for 'em, they'd probably put more into it. But if you [were just] just was a [an] ordinary emcee and said, “well, here’s Smoky Joe from the Smoky Mountains sand he'll pick and sing for you-- -hell even grin for ya,” you know.

When we got the Number one award, we started gettin' bigger and better dates, and bigger and better places to play in, I thought what a strategic situation we were in. During our career at a time when we had the opportunities that other people--they were presented to us and given to us as some of the other people---they have to pay for them. Plus the promotions and the exposure, other groups don't get until they build themselves up. They had to buy it or pay for it or else get someone else to do it.

First of all, the TV shows --four TV shows a week. Even if I didn't have records, when we didn't have records for a while there, we'd still be able to work dates because we had the television exposure in four major cities-- -you couldn't ask for anything better than that. And then on NBC radio --the show we recorded here on reel-to-reel tape, that would be played Saturday night on NBC at a prime time at the same time we were in Chicago on television at a prime time. So, you see, that's coast to coast. As well as recording on a top label, which was RCA Victor, and publishing our own songs and other people's songs we'd come in touch with and try to help out. And such breaks in the business were almost never heard of. And we were very fortunate to have all that in our favor.

And then good management was very important, or a good agent that represents you. Colonel Parker, when he took Eddy Arnold over, that’s all he worried about. When he took Elvis, that's all he worried about. And we were fortunate to have a guy like that to be friends with because a lot of times he could open the [that] door for us that we possibly couldn't open the door [alone.]

I knew Colonel Parker before he handled Elvis. Colonel Parker was hired by Mr. Frank when he was down in Florida. He lived at a place right out of Tampa, and he was head of a humane society for animals. He had about 15-16 animals -dogs and cats, and deer that got hurt, cows and calves-- -he's [he’] bring 'em to this little place he had. That's how [we came to get] come we got our first bookin' through him down in Tampa, Florida. He was no Colonel Parker then --just Tom Parker. And Mr. Frank called me up from Florida when he was down there. He says, “I'm settin' you up here next month for about three weeks to come down here, to play theaters.” He says, “it’s going to be vise (??) sometimes like I told you. Play a theater here and about 20 miles they got the movie and then we go fight back and forth.” And I says, “who's handling this?” “Tom Parker.” I says, “who's he?” He says, “a guy I just hired. We're goin' to start bookin' together.”

Mr. Frank saw potential in Mr. Parker. He could tell a promoter when he saw one. But Tom wasn't that big---Tom was nobody. I was living in Nashville then I was there--the first one in a hotel --we played a show and a dance--and we had a packed house and then Ernest Tubb come [came] in and he did the show--so that would have been (??).

Colonel Parker didn't start handling Elvis until about '57 --'58 maybe. Colonel Parker is still livin'. He lives in L.A., but he's very, very ill. He's old. He celebrated his 65th birthday here in Louisville --the taxicab drivin' up with the cake and he wouldn't let nobody [anybody] have it but him. He says, “that's for the colonel.” [chuckles] He'd have to be about 85 somewhere in there.

In his (??) day when we first knew him, he was a jolly good fellow. And we used to play cards and shoot dice backstage in our spare time. And he talked with a lisp, but he always had that $100 bill in his billfold. He carried it around and he says, “don't nobody [anybody] tell No--E (??) about it---I don't [want] No--E to know I got that $100 bill---that's my kitty --when I need it, I will spend it.” And we always laughed at him, and one day he had it in a --we played a great big auditorium -in Norfolk, Virginia. They built a brand-new auditorium and we were the ones who dedicated it -the mayor of the city and some of the dignitaries came on stage and I introduced 'em all and all that.

And Col. Parker was with us dere [there], and they went backstage durin' the intermission and started shootin' dice and some of the guys were really carried away. And Tom says, “I'll tell you what I'm gonna do -there's about $100 our [out] there. He says, “you let me roll de dice and I'll be covered and I'll cover you.” And [I] said, “no, we don't do that.” And [I] said, “how much of dis [this] do you want? $60, $40, $80?” He says, “if I can get the dice, that'll all stay in the pot when you guys let me go in there.” And we all looked and looked and says, “why not? Might as well get your feet wet now jump, in the river right now.” So, all the guys --about six or seven of us from the band -we gave him de [the] dice and he [was] supposed to throw 'em out and he rolled 'em and he says, “honey, you hear me now?” He said, “I hear you clickin' but you ain't rollin’ out there like a 7 or 11, are you? Oh, shucks, let's try,” -and he threw it out there. And he threw two snake eyes [chuckles] a deuce. And he said, “goodbye, $100 bill -that's the last of you I'll see.” So, he lost his kitty on just one roll of dice. But I'm sure he replaced the $100 bill.

I had a fiddle player who always carried a $5 bill in his boots. I did something Iike that, too with shoes. Back when I first started wearing cowboy slipper shoes not boots. 'Cause it was a lot of times on them [those] long trips you didn't want to wear your boots all the time. They rub your feet raw on top. So, I used to stick a $20 bill down there in case of emergency --get stuck somewhere.

Colonel Parker used to be kind of easy-going. After he got ahold of Elvis, after Eddy Arnold--he and Eddy Arnold parted friends --everybody thought they had an argument but dey [they] didn't--Eddy Arnold just found another step on the ladder to go higher a New York agent kept (??) management also. And he said, “Tom, a partin' of the ways comes at a time when I see a nice time for me to do it.”

And R.J. Purcell, one of the big promoters and managers of a lot of top stars in New York -and Purcell was very good for Eddy. He taught him how to invest his money, taught him what to buy. In fact, they tell a story and I know it's true, about the Buick rise (??) man -Davis down there -he was goin’ broke. Car sales were down, Buicks were down—and Eddy prolonged his lease down there and even loaned some money to get out of the rut. And within three years, he paid him back because the Buick come [came] out with a very pretty car that year and they sold a lot of ---. So, he says, “Eddy, by the way, down the street from me is a little strip of land.”

He said, “I don't know what you'd do with it, but one of my fellow salesmen told me he'd like to have you build an ice cream soda stand over there. And he'll run it for you for a cheap salary until he gets started.” And he says, “ok, tell him to come out here.” He came out there and he and Eddy hit it off right off de [the] bat. They went down and looked at it, and before anything was done, Eddy said, “you got to put Kit together --let me know how much it is.” And he invested in a little ice-cream stand right next to the church. [The] church was on the corner and next door was the ice-cream stand and next to it was the gasoline station. So, people would run in there and get an ice-cream cone or malted milk while they were gettin' gassed up. That's a bidness [business] man.

It was there for many, many years, but finally the church had to take it for parking. I don't even know the name of the pike the church was on-- -on the way to Madison from ... not Goodlettsville Pike it's the other pike. It was there for a long, long time. He made some money off that place, but it was a good gesture on his part--he was a smart man.

As far as my investments go, I never wanted to have anything. I got burned fast. When we were on the road all the time, this guy had a four or five room motel that he had there and a little tavern. And [I] used to go and have a beer there on Saturday nights when we come [came] from the Grand Ole Opry and go towards home. And Dad (??) and I were sittin' there one night, and I said, “you know, this [is a] pretty nice little place.” I said, “a little kitchen in the back here, and we can sell barbecue, beer, pretzels. He says, “well, what do you think?” I said, “let's try it -let's see what it...” He said, “no, I don't want to try it --I want you to try it.” And, he said, “I tell you what -we've got a good name for it.” I said, “what are you goin' to call it?” He said, “Pee Wee King's Hitchin' Post.” And that was it.

And by that time, we started penciling and drawing what we were gonna have, where the two trucks were gonna come in, where people were gonna park -it was right on the highway --on 31 -north of Nashville. And Saturday nights, I couldn't shake that place loose –them [those] hillbillies come [came] off the Grand Ole Opry and come [came] out to eat that barbecue and drink beer. But, we stayed open only to 1 o'clock. At 1 o'clock, the woman Mrs. Carnahan --she said, “boys, you got to go. We close at 12 o'clock.” And den [then] dey'd [they’d] take some barbecue sandwiches home for their family or their kids and that.

It was all right -for a while --then, finally, it got to be such a big chore. People stopped there and talked to Mrs. Carnahan; she was the lady who took care of it--had the money and everything --but not the manager -we had a fellow for that. We had a guy on the tent show with us. After we took off the tent show because his wife was pregnant, and she wanted him home -so she asked him to quit the tent show and come in [and] a run the Hitchin' Post for me. So, I said, “go ahead.” But, I found

out he was skimmin’ off de [the] top. Ms. Carnahan says, “Lord, Pee Wee, that shouldn't be happening to you.” She says, “you're too generous, too easy-going --you trust 'em and he isn't worth the powder to blow him up with.” So anyhow, when we come [came] in, I says, “tell you what I want to do I'm doin' better when Mrs. Carnahan had it all.” I says, “since you come [came] in and your wife came in, she's pregnant -she shouldn't be here either with all this smoke and everything else.” So, he said, “ok, so when you want me to quit?” I said, “whenever you feel like it.” I said, “we're goin' out for the week with the tent show and we'll be back next Saturday.

He had a house trailer. He loaded it down with those great big jugs of pickles, cucumbers for hamburgers --all these big containers that the restaurants buy. And he had a flat tire. And Mrs. Carnahan looked at 'im [him] and says, “now what have you got dere [there] that's so heavy?” He says, “none of your business.” She says, “well, I'll find out. one way or the other.” Says, “how long have you been here puttin' your stuff in?” He says, “since this mornin' --daylight.” She says, “let me go in there. I want to see what you got.” And he was in such a hurry dat [that] he put an extra couple of dem [those] big cans in the aisleway between the beds on the home trailer. She says, “so that's what you've done. Well, I'll have to tell Pee Wee about that.” And she did. And I says, “good riddance with the rubbish!” He finally got the guy from the service station to come and fix his tire and he never paid 'im [him]! That's how I got rid of --that was my experience.

Now the guy that bought it all from me -within 6 or 7 weeks had a short in the wire system and it burned de whole place down. So, see what could[‘ve] a happened to me. That was about 1945. I didn't lose money on the deal--I sold it pretty cheap. I think about $1,500 or $1,600. While I was running it, if I broke even, I was makin' money [chuckles] because I had a lot of friends on the Grand Ole Opry--some of the boys used to borrow money from Mrs. Carnahan and get on their way like they'd be goin' to Virginia or West Virginia. or Alabama and that-- -no, they wouldn't borrow it because they would have to go south. But anybody goin' up in that eastern part of de [the] country -they'd stop by and borrow some money once in a while --$50, $20 ....

There was one guy [who came] come in here --he was an Indian --came up to Louisville and went in this service station here right on the other side of where Chenoweth Lane is --a Standard Oil place. That was a Gulf station at one time. And Roy Fernan (??) used to own it --he was a good buddy of mine -was a golfin' partner of mine. And this guy waited until daylight broke -and when daylight come [came], Roy went to come into work. And this guy went in and got his Cadillac filled with gas -about 25 gallons worth. And he had 'im [them] change the oil and everything --six quarts I guess it was in that. And he drove away. And he said, “I'm a good friend of Pee Wee's and we're workin' tonight. And he's comin' up. So, he said, “just tell 'im [him] that it was (??).” So, I didn't know about it, but I knew the Indian and I paid the bill.

In my day, country music performers would run out of money --without a cash flow you can't go--you can't operate --even in dose days it was tough. Sometimes dey [they] would even get a little advance from de [the] guy-- 'bout $30 or $40 for gasoline to get there. Then they got the rest of the money when they got paid -that's hew the advance -we used to start their advance on their date -startin' managers of de [the] fairs and parks and that to send in $50 downpayment or $100 downpayment. I used to have to do that.

I was worried because hear [here] I am with a group and if somepin' [something] happens, you got to have ready cash to overcome any situation that’ll happen. Nobody thought about cash flow. Nobody, nobody. Nobody lived like that. Just like my boys in the band -they got their checks on Friday—every Friday. And I was on the road, but the wives would come and get their checks. [chuckles] I had an office here, and they knew I was good for whatever they were supposed to be paid.

Den [Then] we started the Golden West Christmas Club and all the boys contributed except there was [were] two boys who said, “let's borrow from the Golden West Cowboy Fund.” I said, “no, that's Christmas money. He's gonna go there and you're going to have that check at Christmas time.”

When I was talkin' then, I said, to myself I said --I was talkin' to myself I says, “it's very good promotion and the cooperation -7,500 people in the fan club at $1 a piece [apiece].” Dolores built the fan club -ours to 7,500 people. They were from all over the United States. We had a newsletter. It came out of the office here. They paid $1 a year and they got four issues --spring, summer, fall and winter. It had news, and I wrote for the paper a lot of times when we'd have a good act with us on the road -like Eddie Dean would come all the way from Hollywood. Eddie Dean was makin' pictures at that time for Monogram. And we came in here --Mr. Frank brought him in, and he said, “Pee Wee, I'm gonna put Eddie Dean with you on that Canada tour because he's a good guy and he deserves a break.” And we've been friends ever since. He's one of the few entertainers can go by himself on the stage, and at the old (??) Golden Nugget and do one hour. And has to beg to get off. Eddie Dean is a movie star. You'll probably think of Jimmy Dean but there's no relation at all.

But I was thinkin' --good management, good promotion -and best of all, you have to have a good group of guys that can get along. And another thing you had to go with a good calibur [caliber] of acts -best calibur [caliber] of people. And they were big names a lot of times, as well as good people. And then new ones that we brought in that needed a break, we'd bring with us on the road, too. And this would kind of give 'em a boost and everything else.

And The Durango Kid and I --we hit it off right off the bat –Charles Starrett, I’ll tell you, you couldn't ask for a better man than him. And he didn't have to do dat [that] for a livin' --because his father owned Starrett Tools. S-t-a-r-r-e-t-t-. They're still around--some of these guys that work in the service stations and that –they still got a box of Starrett Tools.

Luck plays a role in this business, too, always. If you get to the right place at the right time for the right people with the right material. But you have to make your breaks. Just like when we finished our last show in Chicago, Shorty Boyd --he says to the boys --I heard 'em -they were talkin' [one] time back in the dressin’ [room]' he said, “don 't worry about it -you guys worry too much about work and everything.” He says, “maybe it'll do us good to rest a while.” So the boys came over to the house one night and we were all sittin' around and I says, “how would you boys like to tape and audition – [with] WLW?” And they says, “what for?” And I says, “we're goin' to take over de [the] Midwest Hayride.” And they all said, “aw, you're kiddin' -they got a show already.” I said,” I know but we' re going to take up their spot because Jack Soebel has sold us on a program --if we're good enough that the Wiedemann people will buy it.” Of course, you know the rest of this. We had the day off and we went up just of our own accord, setup [set up] our instruments. We played at a rodeo up in Columbus, Ohio.

The funny part about it --Harriet and Sonny been married 21 years, Sonny is 50 now, Harriet's about two years younger than he is. Anyhow, they went to all the doctors, and everybody told 'em --it's just one of those things -some do and some don't. But, we know better because Sonny come [came] from a big family of relations -you can see --but Harriet didn't have that luck. Anyhow, they made a good couple and built their own family style of livin' -they lived together down in Florida and three months later she called me --she says, “Pee Wee, you won't believe it.” I says, “now what?” She says, “well, you're the first to know.” I says, “you didn't tell Frank?” She says, “oih, yes, I did. You're the first one.” And I said, “are you sure?” And she said, “I'm positive.” So, when the baby was born, I was up there, and we kidded her and laughed and hee-hawed back and forth, and finally got a towel off the dresser. She says, “what are you doin'?” I says, “the last time a miracle like that happened there was [were] Three Wise Men come [coming] from the East. And I'm goin' to make damn sure I see it this time!” [chuckles] She says, “don't make me laugh.” She was 44 when she got pregnant.

I would make my entrance by riding Boots on to the stage. The band would play, and it's a funny thing --I knew it would happen as soon as I loaned the horse out to Bob Lork (??), but anyhow, we had a special tune we played the fiddle tune for -"Turkey in the Straw." She just loved it. That was one that Boots Jr., too, liked. Boots was a he, and Boots Jr. was a she. And they're identical -I mean you put 'em outin [out in] the field you wouldn’t know which one was which, except Boots Jr. was a little stockier and healthier and younger. I used Boots Sr. all the time -but I went along with the other one just to have fun, and she enjoyed it just as much as he did. A companion, she could do tricks but not as many.

Gene Autry had a Champion and a Champion Jr. He toured with them. A horse by itself --stuff will get monotonous. You got to have a companion for him. They nip at each other and kick each other if they have to, but that was a success --that's the smartest thing he did in many, many years carry that Champion Jr. with him. When he toured, he carried both horses with him.

But I didn't have two horses on the road -just the one, but Autry did. He had the big trailer. I'll show you a picture of 'im [them.] But I had Boots Jr. to be a companion to Boots Sr. at home. Or we would got [go] out to the riding academy somewhere, or back in the, farm after we harvested the oats and the corn and everything else. We had a regular ridin’ trail out there.

So, I'd ride Boots out on to the stage to the accompaniment of "Turkey in the Straw," and stayed out there on him do to my tricks. That would be towards the end of the show. And when Minnie worked for us, I used to say, “now here she is, Boots did his trick and then he's going to do hers.” And then she said, “take that [whispers] goddamn horse out of here. I ain't [am not] goin' out on that stage till you sweep it off.” It wasn't so bad at the fairgrounds and parks but on the stage, she didn't stomach that at all. But she put up with it.

You can't compete very well with an animal. Never go on a show with a dog, and I proved that with Lassie, when Lassie was booked with me at Buck Lake Ranch. The real Lassie from Hollywood. I got a picture in the ad in there. Lassie was a she. But it was so funny because it rained and poured and we pulled into the park --we hid under any kind of tree we could get out of the rain and that until it would blow over.

And the manager (??)--anyhow, we got a phone call and it was Jack Lindahl (??) , the bookin' agent in Chicago. And Harry says, “you're wanted on the telephone -it's your agent, Jack Lindahl. And he says, while you're at it, tell 'im [them] we're going to go inside the barn -you're goin' to play a little square dance for the people that are here, and hope to arrange stopslater [stops later] in the afternoon --maybe one or six o'clock --and do one show.” I said, “well, I did,” --I told 'im [him]. He says, “Pee Wee, I'm tellin' you somethin' --Lassie is here in Chicago yet, and Harry tells me you got a thunderstorm (??) out?” I says, “yeah -Buck Lake Ranch at Angola, Indiana,” -right below Coldwater, Michigan. But anyhow, he says, “how am I going to get that animal there?” I says, “I don't know. Can't you (??) drive the station wagon and bring him here?” She says, “why --will you be able to stall that long---when we're on that to where he's at?” Probably a couple hundred miles from Angola. So, I said, “no --I tell you what -if you charter an airplane, you got to pay her in the hour -see what you??”

So, he gota [got a] single motor job, took the dog out to the airport with her owner-trainer and she piled in there like we did --we flew one time in dere [there] and landed right off the expressway right by the park and unloaded everything. And then he took off --Art took off right there, on the expressway. There was long strip of nothing because they're gonna put a blacktop road back there for trucks to come in. So, it worked out perfect --when you're right, you're right.

The name of the park was Buck Lake Ranch. It was beautiful. Boy, it's built up now --oh my God, it's millionaire's row up there now. But anyhow, Lassie come [came] in. And she was soppin' wet -I mean, he had an umbrella and everything and it still wouldn't go over her. She come [came] up there -we just started the show -and Harry Smythe -I said,” Mr. Smythe, you ask the man who long the dog is gonna be, so I can say, here's Lassie to entertain you while we take a break -we're gonna wash up -take a towel and wipe ourselves off.” I said, “might change clothes even.”

It was hot in that damned ol' [old] dance hall --my God --but we put on a show. And the owner of Lassie come [came] over and he brought the dog with 'im [him] backstage. I said, “how much time can you do with her?” He said, “well, we'll try for about 3 or 4 minutes maybe. She's wet as can be --this is the first time this has ever happened.” So we went up there there and he had that sponge all on his arm -had everything in there -sponge around his knee on each --and he said, “trainer, bite 'im [him].” And growl and bark and everything for about three minutes. I don't tink [think] it was a second more. And I said, after Harry and I and his wife become (??) --and he had already paid (??) the dog---in a moment and he said, “King, we didn't do too good.” And I said, “I know you didn't.” I said, “what we should do is maybe book another date if you got somethin' open.” And he says, “well, here's your check.” And I says, “I'll tell you what I'll do, we're coming in from Michigan, and I believe we could pick up and do the night show (??) on a Sunday.” And he says, “well, let's see what I've got booked on that Sunday.” I says, “well, let me know.” He says, “we'll do that after a while.” And then his wife came with the check, and I says, “I don't want no [any] damn check.” I says, “for God's sake, take it.” I says, “pay me when I come back this Sunday -just give the boys their expense money --food money --and stuff like that.”

He says, “what if I gave the boys $25 a piece? [apiece]” I says, “that's good -they'll be happy. They won't care.” So, his wife came over and she kissed me and was cryin' and she said, “you know Roy Acuff did that for us one time, and I couldn't believe it. It poured worse than it did for you.” And they sat there and he bartered his sandwiches and drink [drank] that lemonade and all that stuff. I guess they had somethin' in the lemonade because ... and I said, “oh my Polish wife (??)” She said, “these here boys didn't have beer, but they didn't have no [any] lemonade.” Roy Acuff had taken a whole check and torn it up, because they hadn't had an audience much -didn't even show it --just made it up.

She said, “I'll remember both of you as long as I live.” I doubt there’s anybody in de [the] business that would ... Oh, and I had come [came] when Gene Autry was on strike, and he got sick at the time. He got hurt -I think he had a wreck or somethin,’ and couldn't work or do a movie or somethin.’ And he called Lydia, and he says, “can Pee Wee work for me at Buck Lake Ranch”? He says, “I'm booked there. And I want Pee Wee to go back up there. He said, “be sure he calls me -we're gonna work it out. I'm sendin' Pat Butram (??) up there, too.” So, between the two of us, we took the show.

I went up by myself because that was a day off for us anyhow. And he had wrestling on Friday nights and Saturday --I think they switched it to Saturday. Anyhow, Pat Butram came in, and he was hot with the pig (??). But anyhow, he come [came] up there. He flew here to Louisville and then he and I drove up dere [there]. That was Green Acres. That goddamn pig gets more requests than I do. [chuckles] They all ask, “how's the pig?” But anyhow, he and I went and covered the gate and everything else.

I forgot what Gene gave me for a birthday gift -somepin [something]. I did the Melody Ranch show with him on a Sunday show. So, some kind of a gift he give [gave] me -belt and buckle, I think.

I toured with Boots about 1 and a half years. I never took him out in the winter time. I did try to play a date in Newark, Ohio, and ice formed on the coal bin --you know how they unload coal --they open two doors to the bin downstairs. Oh, that [those] doors were metal things over there, and the trainer backed the van there, and he was unloadin' her. He had the tailgate down and she had missed --the tailgate had wedges where she (??) because there are braces up that come down -and she had to back out. And she did. She just about fell in that coal bin -she slipped on the ice -a little concrete between where the two doors shut down --the thing is she could[‘ve] of got[ten] killed. Anyhow I says, “no more --this is it. We' re not going to take the horse under any conditions until the sun shines and we know what's goin' on.”

All the time I had the horse I was living in Goodlettsville. But I brought [her] up here when we moved here. We were going to bring her up the elevator on the first floor--but to the television studio -WAVE. That was back kin [in] the days when they had the building on the corner, Preston and Broadway. So, I figured the best way -instead of bringin' her up dis [this] way through the regular doors, there's a service door that they unload stuff in -bring her over here. And my good Shrine friend was takin care--I was boardin' her out at Fern Creek at that time. And brought her in the service door, got her up out to the 66--the elevator and thought, “well, this is going to be easy.” So, Banding (??) went upstairs -I said, “I'll stay with the horse, Bandy, you go upstarrs [upstairs] and catch us so when I get off, I'll take her off casual -she'll be surprised to see you there.”

Anyhow, it was quittin' time -all the offices were closin'. And we waited until everybody practically was out of the building. And I took Boots and put her on that thing and thought, “well, hell, what's the use in me goin' up with the horse. I'll just punch the button and go on, man -you'll be up there waiting on for her.” [chuckles] Well, as luck would have it, she had rubber shoes on, and the front part of the rubber shoe got caught in the doorway. And it wouldn't go up and it wouldn't go down. And I was runnin' like hell up the steps to go catch her, too. And I wondered, “what the hell is wrong,” the lights stayed on --I went down again. And there she was kickin’ and snortin' and everything. Finally, I punched it again and put the foot where it belonged and up she goes. Aw, she took off. Up the elevator. In the meantime, a guy --a smaraleck [smart alec] on the first floor --decided, by God, he was going to take the elevator up, too. [chuckles] So he punched the elevator and the door opened, and there's a horse. He said, “of all the God ... I want to quit drinkin.’ And I’ll never have another drink in my life.” And then we all heard it.

By that time, I got up to the first floor. And I said, “what's the matter, buddy?” He says, “this your horse, Pee Wee?” I said, “yah.” I said, “what happened?” He said, “nothin,’ I'm glad you came --I was gonna say I quit drinkin.’” [chuckles] So, I got on and went up to the third floor -the studios. And Bandy says, “I wondered what was goin' on.” I said, Performance --I did a performance on the first floor.” I said, A guy down there.” [chuckles]

And then got her up there, and all the people who were workin' on TV at that time, those colored boys dey [they] loved her -just come pet her. And she'd snuggle to 'em. And they says, “how does she do the tricks?” I says, “well, you'll see after a while.” So, we did that. We didn't do any fancy ones with the pedestals --we didn't use them. I used her on the show here just the once.

We plugged the St. John's Picnic--the Masonic Home Picnic. Boots was comin' there with Bandy. And Saturday she'll be there all day, and you children can have your pictures made with 'em and make donations -all money goes to charity for the Masonic Home. I kept her at Fern Creek. Danny Buren, a Shrine brother of mine, he had three work horses out there at his stable. He kept her for me -he loved her. To show you how much he thought of her, for his 75th birthday, he had her in the house for a birthday cake. Brought her right in the house and stood by the table. His wife's still got pictures of it. She died about five or six years after that. Bandy's been dead about 10 years, I guess. She was 31 when she died. That's pretty old for a horse but she was strong.

I sold Boots Jr. to another Shrine brother down in Nashville. He was a chauffeur for the governor -the dentist from Memphis. He was an aid for whoever was governor for 15, 16 years. He drove Governor Frank Clements around. It was more trouble than it was worth to have the horse. But at the same time, I did it to please myself and that it could be done. It was a challenge add [and] I accepted the challenge. A lot of people identified me with the horse. I was not necessarily a good horseman, but I had to know how to ride. I learned how on the farm where I grew up.

I 'm not like Garth Brooks --this isn't for publication -I said to Garth Brooks, “what about bein' a singin' cowboy?” He said, “I hate horses.” He doesn't have a horse. He don't [doesn’t] need a horse.

Here we were, Pee Wee King and the Golden West Cowboys -what did cowboys have horses! So, maybe people kind of expected me to have a horse. But Mr. Frank unloaded that horse on me, but I loved it. You get so you missed [miss] the horse after she passed away. Well, I'm embarrassed to say---I don't think I've been out to Mrs. Buren's house --she's about 90 now and we get a Christmas card from her, and her telephone number --and then I call her at Christmas time and say, “We 're gonna try to make it down there.” And I did when her mother was still livin.’ She said, “would you dedicate her a song on the Grand Ole Opry”? I said, “yeah, I promise I will. For her 100th birthday?” I said, “I sure will.” And I did. Then right after we got through Saturday night --Sunday they had a big party for her and the newspaper was there, so Lydia and I stopped and visited Mrs. Buren and then her mother was 100 years old. A charming lady.

You would never allow your audiences to see performers taking a break backstage or being out of character back there [then]. The image you leave -well, especially like Hank Williams --he wasn't drunk all the time, but he got the reputation of being a drunk and couldn't leave whisky alone, and that was his demise. That was it. But I wouldn't want for people to have known that we were shootin' craps backstage, but we did. I would not have allowed a photographer to come take a picture backstage in a moment like that because that would have been bad publicity. And there were certain kinds of jokes you didn't tell on stage because we had a public image to project. And a lot of people would be disappointed, because when you start tellin' blue jokes -that's for nightclubs and special places. Country music has always been family entertainment. That's what that clock says--you see the clock. And he knows --Mr. Lobanjinski (??) really knows -because we broke all [the] records for him, too, one time.

My brother Gene got into the record business. We were going to Georgetown; it was Stone's Dance Hall where Clayton McMitchen [McMichen] used to play all de time. The drummer that was in town --Pat Pat (??) and his orchestra --he used to play on Seventh St. And he come [came] to me one night; he says, “I work for Stone's Dance Hall up in Georgetown,” and that fellow says, “would you and the cowboys come over here and play a dance for us?” And I says, “Pat, I don't know.” I says, “some of the boys are on vacation right now and that.” He says, “well, how about you and me and we'll use my band and go up there.” I said, “no --I'll ask some of the boys there when I go and see if they please, well, you can give 'em some money. If not, why it's their off-night anyhow.” So about four of the boys decided they’d go up there and see what it was like. And Pat booked it with the guy up there.

On the way, riding in the limosine [limousine] -I had the Cadillacs at that time -and he said, “I've got to get rid of this--a little deal I got downtown.” See, he was a record distributor for the area. He loaded the jukeboxes and all. He worked with Southern Distributing Company, the record company down the side street there. And he said, “my mother has got this little record shop down there I bought for her to keep her occupied. She didn't have nothin' [anything] to do at home -she was wiltin' -gon' downhill-and I decided to put her inthere [in there] peddlin' records.” So, I pick her up late in the afternoon and we go home and [get] somethin' to eat. Well, it was a wintry day; she fell and slipped on the ice and broke her leg--her hip. Took her to the hospital; the record shop was closed in the meantime.

And he said, “Pee Wee, are you interested in a record shop?” I said, “no, why?” He said, “well, I got one for sale.” I said, “why are you sellin' it?” He said, “I'll give it to you lock, stock and barrel. My mother fell down; she had her hip operated on; she can't stand sittin' around in a record shop anymore. So, I said, “how much you want for it?” He said, “$1,700 -whole thing -cash register, inventory, whole thing.” And I says, “well, I don't know.”

So, I happened to talk to my brother. I says, “your wife wants you at home?” I says, “I can fix that up -open up the record shop.” That's how it started. And then we opened it up, I loaded him with albums -more country albums -taught him how to read Billboard. He thogght [thought] Shapira-Bernstein [Shapiro Bernstein] was a fish market [chuckles] --it was the biggest publisher in the United States at one time. So, he started going for that, and now he's been dere[ there] since about '54 or '55--almost 40 years--38 years. That's how it started, and I said, “here --it's yours.” And he has it. So, he can stay at home, be in the music business and not have to travel. It's not very lucrative business, but he makes a livin.’ He's raised five daughters. All married and gone. They didn't starve.

The big break came for Roseanne Cash when her musician came and looked at it. She had just cut an album called "Honky Tonk." And she didn't have any idea what they were going to try to do about the album cover because the album cover just with the person's face on it isn't enough. If they buy their records, they know what they look like. So, the musician happened to come in there, and he said, “I like what I see, Gene. By gosh, this (??) would make a good album cover.” And Gene said, “I got friendly with him, and it was Rodney (??) McDowell -her husband.” He said, “my wife just cut an album, all honky tonk music, and this is the perfect type building a record shop would look like in a little honky-tonk part of town.” Gene said, “do what you want--it's all right.” So, Roseanne Cash came up here and posed in front of the record shop. They took pictures -colored and everything. And they had a little to-do over there with the autograph sessions. And from that time, all over the world, he’s shippin' her album and T-shirts and everything.

He still has it. The album was made about two years ago. So, he had a pretty lucrative two years. That's a good example of a break --you never know. Gene's younger than me; he's about 65 or 66.

I sat on my glasses one time. And Dr. Bizer says, “what the hell -you don't

wear glasses on your rear end, do you?” I says, “yeah, I want to see what I'm backin' into!” Here's another package show [showing memorabilia]. It's the West Virginia State Fair--1969. There's Bill Anderson. Sandy and Sally. Bobby Vinton was there; he's Polish, too. He and I worked with [the] Jacksonville, Florida fair, too. Ruff Davis -he's a fine entertainer. He's a comic. He was one of the stars of "Petticoat Junction” on TV. I still had my band then. I very seldom did things solo -except the Martha White Flour commercial -I did that by myself. That was for Nashville -they were the sponsors one time of the Grand Ole Opry. They were going to get a bunch of his [us] together that they had hired as the years went by to do a spot commercial and everybody did it. And Jimmy Dickens (??) as Grandpa Jones -Grandpa Jones does the ham thing. And then Jimmy Dickens would do it once in a while. So they alternate that way; it don't [doesn’t] get tiresome.

1957, Bob Ryan and WKLO. During the hiatus of all this changing around bands, and not havin' television, and not havin' to worry about radio, all you do is run your publishing company or dat [that]--Bob Ryan and Audrey and Lydia and I --we're the best of friends. We've known each other for years. So, he approached me one day, he said, “how about you comin’ out and bring couple of de [the] boys and,” he said, “they'll do a show from my lot and see -I'll run some ads on it, on [the] radio and advertise it and we'll have some people.” He said, “you do about 15-20 minutes.” And I said, “okay.” So, I said, “you pay the boys, you don't have to pay me.” And he says, “oh, no. I never work it that way. I'll give you a check and that's the way it's going to work.” And I said, “whatever you want -that's up to you.”

So, we alternate everycouple [every couple] of weeks, we'd have four of the boys or so they'd alternate --do soemthin' on Saturday--usually -Saturday mornin.’ And den [then] when it was bad, he'd go to the studio, WKLO at that time. It was a radio station. And I said to Bob, “you know what we ought to do? Ought to forget the outdoor ting [thing] for the winter time. We're going to be in the studio anyhow, so let's run a talent search. And whoever wins it gets the recording contract. And we'll pull on it all [in a] month or so, and then we’ll take another month and that.” And we said, “okay, let ' s go.” We started dat [that].

To show you how things work out -first I want to tell you the humor[ous] part. If you can't come in, send a demonstration record or tape for us. You can be judged with the rest of them on radio. And I said, “but send your tapes in now.” So, about a week went by, and boy, we were flooded with tapes. So, Bob and I sat down afternoon listenin’ to some of them [those] things. And this girl started, says, “now, Mr. King, I don't sing too well, but I'd like to have a record contract.” She said --and de [the] dog was barkin' in the back --she said, “shut up,” [chuckles ] and barkin' in the background. And she said, “Mr. King, that was the dog barkin' back there” [laughs]. But she says, “I play guitar a little bit --the chords don't come easy for me.” And she says, “just a minute my baby's cryin.'” [laughs]. And I could just picture --and Bob and I --we started laughin' --just screamin.’ And I says, “see, this is what I call really [real] dedication. We don't have to do this -you know that Bob?” He said, “but we'll get some laughs out of it.”

But anyhow, to wind it up, the boy that won it was from Mount Washington. I guess he was from down there -somewhere in that neighborhood. And after all was said and done, we signed him, got the contract and everything else -found out from him he's also got a record contract with another small label --a jerk label in Nashville. [laughs] When I told 'im [him] we were goin' to take him to Nashville and record 'im [him], he said, “oh, I can't go dere [there].” I says, “why?” He says, “I already recorded for somebody down there [laughs].” He thought we were goin' to send him to Hollywood or New York! And he didn't tell us that he already kind of [was] semi-professional. We published about four of his songs - maybe more - six of 'em. And some of 'em were pretty good. But that's the chance you take.

I was on WKLO just that one year. Just so Bob would get a good start down dere [there]. Bob Ryan, the Smiling Irishman. He owns it he still owns both of 'em. WKLO has changed call letters.

And we were also on WAVE-TV about this time. In 1957. Oertel's '92 (??). The show started before '57. Oertel's '92 Jamboree -that's when we used to have guests come in all the time. A variety country-western show. That was live. Couldn't do tape then. That'[s] when I had Elvis’ granddaddy on the show.

Bids for Kids Telethon. That's a telethon WAVE used to -we started it and did it one year and we had to cut it off. Dey [They] didn't have a license to do somethin' like dat [that] on radio -on television. And WHAS was startin' their Crusade for Children about that time. So, about two years elapsed before the Crusade started, and then there was no more Bids for Kids.

I also played at Fontaine Ferry. A bunch of little boys and girls were takin' lessons from a guy named Ray (??) out there on Barret Avenue--a music school--music --string instruments --every kind of instrument -saxophones and trumpets. And Ray said to me, when we had lunch together one day, he said, “how would you like to start a Pee Wee King Junior Orchestra?” And I said, “how do you do that?” And he said, “just let me do it--that'll be my part of the deal.” He said, “we'll give 'em T-shirts, and those that play guitar, they can play guitars with ya. If they play other instruments, you can have 'em on the show one time. And we'll have a Pee Wee King Day at the music school and--.”

That was a bust shot of me -and then I had the T-shirt on -Pee Wee King's Pals. And we [had] close to 100 there that day, I guess. And I interspersed 'em -they'd go on a couple of numbers and then they'd be even. And they just kept exchangin' that way -spent the whole day out there at Fontaine Ferry. Pee Wee King Day. Of course, de [the] boys in the de [the] band were there, too. That was in '57.

I played dances out there. We played the other one out there -Fontaine Ferry Gypsy Village. That was about the same period --mid-'50s And we got the wild idea -I thought maybe it would be better, instead of playin' Fontaine Ferry Park dance or Gypsy Village, go to the Madrid Ballroom, at Third and Guthrie --it's a big garage now -or it was a garage. Garage downstaiars [downstairs] and a big ballroom upstairs. And a church across the street with an old folks home -Trinity Methodist. And that was a church at one time -Trinity Temple. So, Mr. Maylor (??) -I was just talkin' to him -and then somebody -he's the one that bought the place in Cincinnati.

But anyhow, Mr. Maylor says, “how 'bout you comin' in here?” I tried first the Greyhound, and it didn't do no [any] good. The racetrack---dog track -in Jeffersonville. See that was a stopover for the gamblers who'd go to dog races. They'd stop here coming from Chicago and north--St. Paul and all that. This was a breakin' joint. And the next one -they’d be in Florida-- Tampa, Florida, and all the way down. Mr. Ruzel (??) Gavin from Jeffersonville owned it. And he was a big-time gambler. In fact, I guess he got one place there in New Orleans, too, for a while.

First of all, [let me] finish about Mr. Maylor. No, that's how I come [came] to go to Mr. Maylor, that's right. And we made a deal with Mr. Gavin that we would have the ballroom on Saturday nights and do a radio show from it and a dance after. But, I did two different radio shows. I'd do the radio show at the station and then we'd go to Greyhound, and they'd call it the Greyhound Rancho-- -like they got [have] out in Hollywood -Western swing bands play, Spade Cooley, and Tex Williams and all. It didn't go.

And what cured me was Derby Eve. Derby night was a Saturday night, and it poured. And there was [were] three inches of water in the parkin' lot. We sold 35 tickets, and I turned around to the band and I said, “boys -we've had it!” So, we did the radio show that night; Bob Kay was my announcer -he come [came] out there. "From the beautiful banks of the Ohio, we bring you Pee Wee King and the Golden West Cowboys from the beautiful Greyhound Rancho." We had atmosphere and everything. So, I gave Mr. Gavin -I says, “how much [do] I owe you?” He says, “nothin', kid. I'll say one thing --you got guts.” He said, “when you came to me with the idea, I didn't think you'd have time enough to build it up.” He said,” I don't think neither one of us should be in it.” And he said, “we'll part friends --have a drink with me,” and he says, “adios, amigos.”

So that's how I come to Mr. Maylor. And I told Mr. Maylor, I said, “I'd like to do the broadcast from up here. At the Madrid.” And he said, “well, I'm not going to have this very long; my lease is up.” He says, “why don't you just buy it? Buy the rest of my lease.” I said, “I don't want it -I want to work for you.” I said, “I won't charge ya nothin' [anything] we'll just [go] on admissions only.” As luck would have it, we had a pretty good season for about 4 or 5 months. I think the radio show brought people more to the--it was a dancin' class of people -that's what it was. The Madrid Ballroom. Beautiful ballroom.

So, when he told me that, he said, “I'm gonna start the Castle Farms -see, now that I do know I can count on you.” Mr. Maylor said, “I'm fixin' to buy the Castle Farm.” That was out in Cincinnati. And he said, “I'll show you somepin [something].” He said, “I wouldn't do this to the IRS, but I'll do it for you.” He says, “here's de [the] books -we got a cat show booked in here, we got a jewelry show booked in here, dis [this] is a wedding dance, and here's somethin' we got going on, the knife show.” He said, “you could make money with this place.” I said, “why are you goin’ to Castle Farm?” And he said, “well, let's put it this way, a step in the right direction, because dey [they] are hurtin' up there for a real nice dance hall.”

He said, “dey [they] got the dinner clubs up there and the only other one is about 12 miles out of Cincinnati -Coney Island.” And he said, “I think I'll have a lock on the thing when I start it.” And he said, “I'm gonna call it Castle Farms.” But anyhow, I didn't want no [any] part of [in] that. I didn't buy it, but I played there for about four months. It was very nice.

I enjoyed playing for dances because at that time I had a Solovox. It sounded like Frankie Yankivich (??) on the polkas and some of the other stuff. And then when I got my Cordovox, which was right afterthat [after that] here's a picture of that. Here's the band that I had -Jack Leonard -that' s the band that we did the movie with and that's the Collins Sisters. The Cordovox is an organ on the shoulders. Like I told the judge he says, “why don't you play the piano?” I siad, [said] “it's pretty hard to put straps on the piano and push it back [chuckles].” I can't play the piano. On the Accordion and the cordovox, you don’t play a keyboard with your left hand just buttons there I run the scales with.

The Collins Sisters worked for me for about 20 years. A song-and-dance team, very clever. They did Hawaiian dances, Western dances. And the payoff come [came] when the kids would come to the dance even with their parents -they'd teach 'em how to clog and do the tap dance and everything. We used to do intermission that way. Jack was supposed to become one of my featured singers, but it just didn't work out. When we did two sessions with him, it just didn't pay off. Good-lookin' boy and he finally went to Las Vegas -found a little girl out there who was a star and joined her act and he married her. They're livin' in Nashville now. A disc jockey in Glasgow, Kentucky, he commutes between Glasgow--.

Redd Stewart plays the piano very well. He also plays bass fiddle, guitar, fiddle, piano. He comes from a musical family -he taught himself. One of the best things that ever happened was Mr. Frank hirin' him when he had his fiddle in a gunny sack. He was goin’ up to the radio station. He had a job at WGRC radio; they called themselves The Kentucky Wildcats. And he was walkin' and Mr. Frank happened to see 'irn [him]. He said, “what's your name --what do you do” He said, “my name's Henry Stewart, and we've got a little band here. I work with Billy Long. And between us, we do pretty good. We play country music.” And he said, “well how'd you like to work with Pee Wee King?” And he says, “I wouldn't mind it.” So, he says, “well, if you finish your job with Billy Long and want to go in business with Mr. King, we'll work it out.” So that's how come I got Redd Stewart.

And within months we were writin' songs and workin' together. And finally, we formed a publishing company with Mr. Frank and Charlie Adams in Hollywood and Redd Stewart and me. And of course, Redd sold off after about a year or two. He wanted to get out of it.

In 1958, [I] recorded album on [the] Briar label. I knew I was gonna leave Victor because after my skirmish in Cleveland with the distributor there and the main office in New York didn't give me any help on it. And all I wanted was to give away 25 albums. That's when I think I cut "Blue Suede Shoes." No, "Blue Suede Shoes" was before that --Dick Glasser (??) that was here from Ohio, he sounded [like Elvis] before Elvis got very popular. Dick Glasser could sing that rock 'n' roll stuff, and he wrote that kind of stuff, so we signed him bp as a writer for our publishing company Ridgeway. And I cut a couple of records with him -one called "Boot Scoot Rooty Toot" and "Catty &Town". They were knockouts, and that was the last session I did with Victor. I tried to cross over the bridge, and I didn't make it, so I said, “forget it.”

So then when Paul Cohen said, “how about you doin' a session with me? I'll put you on my label Decca Records [records].” But, he said, “I[‘ve] got an independent label I operate on Briar Records---so that's when I cut that. We're gonaa [gonna] play all these fairs, parks and dances up in Minnesota, Nebraska, Iowa and all that. That's when I cut the golden oldies -all polkas. I cut that on Briar. "Old Time Dances."”

I recorded "Blue Suede Shoes" before that, because that was my last record with RCA Victor. We were cuttin' our Briar Records all de [the] time -we were doin' that, too. One of the things we tried to do with Briar was a recitation, ''History Repeats Itself." It was a recitation with soft music in the background. And I was doin' it like I do the "deck of cards"--the same way --it didn't catch on. So, we never really had a good selling record from Briar.

Paul Cohen was a fine man. He was a great producer and director and A & R man. (??) his before I met Steve—of course. I had no axes to grind with Steve Scholz, but I guess Steve was gung-ho that I keep recording waltzes. And we had some novelty records that were pretty good. "Silver and Gold" was a big record for us. And "Bass Fiddle Boogie" was a good record for us. "Steel Guitar Rag," too. But he wouldn't listen to it --we had to have a waltz on every session. I mean on one side of every record, we put out. You put out 150 records and 15 albums -157 records we cut and 15 albums in 17 years I was with 'im [him]. That's a lot of work! A lot of writin'! But without the records, you don't have it.

Up to '59 now, you (??) have left RCA Victor; still do [a] weekly television show Oertel's '92; did fairs with Minnie Pearl[‘s] group and the Collins Sisters. That's when (??) came over and took Minnie Pearl over -he was [he was] her manager. He was a bookin' agent in Nashville, and he says, “if the Collins Sisters, Minnie Pearl and your group work together, you work out a deal financially between you, Andrew (??), and Minnie --what you want and what you need --you'll fly with Minnie because just Henry and her --they'll just take them with them because you won't have to worry about the girls makin' it high or makin' those long chumps (??) in there.” So that was a good deal for ... we shook hands. And we had a good deal -we played all the big fairs up east. My God, Pennsylvania, New York and all that. This would have been in '59, '60 and so on.

I attended the jukebox convention. That's up in Chicago at the Palmer House. Jukebox operators all get together, and they go up there and they showcase. We were on showcase with 'em. And we had a hot record at dat [that] time. Perry Como was dere [there], the Fontaine Sisters who were with Perry Como at that time, Red Foley was there, we were there. So, we had pop and country singers. It was a showcase of all of the record companies with their top stars. The stars performed because this was a way to get the jukebox people to put the records on their jukeboxes.

And I got to be real good friends with Hirsch D. Levy (??); he was de [the] president dat [that] year. I didn't do nothin [nothing] extra or anything [anything], but he put his arm around me and says, “if I had more entertainers like you, I'd be happy.” He was from Washington, D.C. and was president of the jukebox operators. And I thanked him for the opportunity to be on the show with the same people -all friends of mine. He said, “well, we'll have you back next year. You're welcome anytime.” This was a trade show where people in the trade would get together. Very important to the artists. We went just that one year, however.

Todd Records. Paul Cohen had that record company too. And we tried to so somepin [something]

with him on dat [that], but it didn't pan out. We did a demo session for him and released a

couple of records for him.

We also played sports shows -Bill King Sports Shows -the local promoter. We worked the sport show here but, den [then] he started a second one in Mobile, Alabama. And we did dat [that] down there, too. Paul Horning, the football star, was our emcee and featured star. We worked dat [that] a week down there. We did concerts for the advertisers -booths -at the sports show. The 1960s -it's like a motor. I've been to many states -some of 'em 3, 4, 10 times maybe. Pennsylvania, New York, Connecticut, and all that. Out west -I don't take a tour anymore -I haven't now in the last couple of years. During my career in the earlier days, all the way from California to Regina, Canada, Saskatchewan. I've performed in every state.

But I haven't been in Alaska -that's the one I turned down. I don't know why. Copas and Ferlin Huskey went up dere [there] on a hotshot promotion. A disc jockey up there turned a promoter, and it was his first show and he thought he'd get some current talent. And Copas had a pretty good record and Ferlin Huskey. And he hired both of 'em and when they got there there, they didn't have diddly-squat -in money, no people, no[t] nothin' [anything]. They wasn't [were not] interested in country music up dere [there]. But the kid was a disc jockey and a good one; I corresponded with him quite a while. When Cop and Ferlin come [came] back and said; “don't go to Alaska.” And I said, “after Johnny Horton's song, I don't want to go dere [there] either.” [chuckles]

I don't really have any favorite states or places where I like to work although I enjoy workin' in Wisconsin a lot 'cause that's my home territory up dere [there], and after a couple of time dere [there], you've made the rounds there of--all the people you know up in that territory. I liked Iowa quite a bit. I worked with a band in Iowa for a while --Andy Doll and his band --they sounded like Lawrence Welk. Six men with 17 instruments they played. So, Eller and I and Donnie White all went on tour with --and I gave the boys a vacation. From two months -I think it lasted about six months. I was without the worry and care; Andy had to worry; I didn't. So, it was different but a good band though. We opened up with Lawrence Welk's theme song [hums].

I know Lawrence Welk and Myron [Floren], too. He's still living --90 years old. And Jimmy Roberts from Greenville, Ketucky that sings so good. And the boy and girl husband and wife --a singing duet – [Guy Hovis & Ranla English] they always sang love songs together; dey [they] were at

the house one time. They played Madisonville for a fundraiser for the family out there (??).

I never worked a concert date with Lawrence Welk. The only one I worked a concert date with was Eddie Fisher before he went in the Army. We both played the Palladium in Hollywood. And I tell ya -I never saw a crowd - they go wild. We were the alternate band --he had the band there. So, he introduced, “my friend from RCA Victor Records --Pee Wee King and his Golden West Cowboys”. So, we played "Sentimental Journey" to start with and it was slow. They got on de [the] floor and danced. And we went through a couple of others -"Slow Poke" and we started hittin' on the nail, and I said, “uh-oh --it'll be two-step from here on in”. And Eddie Fisher said, “that's the way to do it.”

I liked working with Eddie Fisher. I know I look bad, but I hope I don' t look that bad. He doesn't wear good. He's had a hard life. He was married to Elizabeth Taylor; I never met her. And also married to Debbie Reynolds. I saw sanepin [something] last night on TV that was a shock, Ted Kennedy had a T-shirt on, and as elegant as he looks when he's when he's in Congress and Senate meetings, he ain't [isn’t] that way. Man, them [those] wrinkles are deep --you could put a pencil in 'em. He's overweight, too. He's about to get married again --to a young girl. He and all the Kennedys have had a rough(h life.

Eddie Fisher went into the Army a coupleof [couple of] months after we worked together. In fact, he was fightin' for a million-gold record on "Anytime" and we were fightin' for a million on "Slow Poke." He was popular then. Eddy Arnold puts a 5 on his first fight on the charts. And then Pee Wee King "Tennessee Waltz", then Eddy Arnold 6, 7. Jirrrny Wakely says, “why in the hell didn't you tell 'em to quit for a while?” I said, “by God, they had slipped (??) in the wrong at that time. Margaret Whiting, Jimmy Wakely. I knew the artists that were at the top of the chart back then -had to -had to find out what their secret is. I had my own secrets -the hard way.

Yeah, you can learn from other people's style. That's one thing I used to do when I was a kid growin' up --I'd go to the ballrooms and listen to Barbara, to Sammy Kaye, Kay Kaiser, Guy Lombardo, the big bands, Woody Herman -he was exciting --he had the kind of band that --and I loved him, too, because he was from my hometown Milwaukee. Every time he'd come in, he'd come in with a young group of boys. There was a little band that was breakin' in for a tour. That’s the way I told Wade this the other nighb [night] -we were talkin' -one time he and I were havin' a drink, and he says, “don’t worry about --the ballroom's comin' back.” He said, “can they make it? All the ballrooms are (??) bowling houses --they can take the bowling alleys.” And I said, “here at the boarding houses are doing great -the ballrooms [are] not doin' so hot.” Of course, Woody's dead so it don't [doesn’t] make no [any] difference.

You can learn from other people's styles, but you can't really copy them. How can you copy Guy Lombardo, Kay Kaiser and all [of] them? They got horns -all I got is a hillbilly band! And I wouldn't want to because I had my own sound -what I thought was right for me. I always remember, watch the feet and set the beat.

I don't think ballrooms are ever going to come back. It's a new couple of generations now. The boomers are dyin' out, too, because the baby boomers are in their 50s now. They don't want to hug each other anymore. They want to stand away from each other and jump around. And they have these big rock concerts; they're packed in like sardines; there's no room for them to do any dancing. The big band era was a fine time.

Now one singer goes out with a guitar and five men, and he collects five gold records already --Garth Brooks. He doesn't play dances -just concerts. And people sit and listen to him. They won't dance --they could dance some of his songs are danceable. They want to sit and watch. Every time Hank Jr. is in town, I go to see him. Now those people sit there and sing every damn song he sings. They get carried away sometimes -they want to dance too, but they don't get out of 'em [their] seats either. There's not much room for them to dance --the theater won't let 'em, especially that one downtown. You can make more money when you have concerts -you set your own price tickets. And you can put more people into the same space. This coming April 10th, we'll be going to Michigan and spend about 10 days. I'm filming on the first of April -we won't be hare till the third. I have four children.