Oral History Interview with Randy Atcher

...you know, but the melody is very [similar?? to “The Battle Hymn of the Republic”??]. “Happy, happy birthday...da-da, da-da, da-da-da.” [He demonstrates] I have compared the notes and they’re not the same because the way the words go and the way I wrote it but I’ve had people over the years–once in a while some musician will say, I know that–that’s...And they they’ll figure out that it’s taken from or at least similar–very similar to “The Battle Hymn of the Republic.” But I did not consciously do it. I guess it’s possible that “The Battle Hymn” had been somewhere around–been used or something–at the time I was doing this but I don’t remember that. Of course, “The Battle Hymn of the Republic” is in the public domain.

[Wade Hall says it is not uncommon for someone to set a song that becomes very popular to an older melody, and Randy Atcher agrees. So the song becomes the property of the person who wrote it. It becomes YOUR song, Wade Hall says and Atcher agrees.]

One of the things I have learned is that children–you need repetition. So when I wrote the song to close “T-Bar-V”–what ever’body calls “The Brush Your Teeth Song”–our closing song–I used the same melody. It’s under [can’t understood word or words??]. It goes [and Atcher sings it lightly to convey the feel]: “Brush your teeth each morning, get lots of sleep at night, mind your mom and daddy, ‘cause they know what is right, lots of exercise each day and eat up all your food, and always wear a great big smile, it makes you look so good, be sure to look both left and right before you cross the street”–and originally, it was “be with us tomorrow at 3 when it’s time for T-Bar-V.” And that’s after we were on at 4 o’clock for a while, they moved us to 3, and from 3 to 3:30–this was in 1953–that’s when the program became a half-an-hour and was a half-an-hour from then till 1970. And of course, after tape came in–‘course the first–I’m not exactly sure of the year tape came but it was about 1960–in that area. And after tape came in and they decided to tape the program and put it on in the mornings–and we were on at 9 o’clock–we followed “Captain Kangaroo” in the mornings and so that’s when the song got changed to: “be with tomorrow at 9 when it’s T-Bar-V Ranch time”–which is what more people remember because [can’t understand a word or two that follow??]–the same melody, yes.

Again, that’s something that has always surprised and really made me feel good is that that song–“The Happy Birthday Song”–has just gone all over the territory. [Wade Hal says, I still think the fact that it’s close to “The Battle Hymn of the Republic” doesn’t affect what you did with it because no one else has done that exactly. And who knows but what those women–who wrote the original “Happy Birthday” song–didn’t use some ancient melody for “Happy Birthday.” I don’t know–it’s entirely possible. And Randy Atcher agrees.]

When I was young, I always heard that there is no new combination of notes–every possible combination of notes has already been written–somewhere, sometime. [Wade Hall says, You made it unique, though, by how you used those sounds–the words you put it with–and the context of the sound. And Atcher agrees.]

“T-Bar-V” lasted about 20 years and 3 months, from March 27, 1950–this was the first day that WHAS-TV was on the air–and then it was on until June of 1970. And we’ve had special shows since then. One of the things I want to tell you when we were doin’ “T-Bar-V” five days a week–from the very beginning–at that same time, the band we had was doing three programs each morning on radio from 6:35 to 7, with Barney Arnold–and he talked about the farm situations. We were on then and then we were on again from 7:15 to 7:30, and from 8:15 to 8:30. Just 15 minute programs on radio. So that’s three programs a day–five days a week–so that’s 15. And then we were doin’ “T-Bar-V” five days a week, so that’s 20. And then we had a program called “The Old Kentucky Barn Dance” on radio, so that’s 21. And then “The Hayloft Hoedown” came along–we’ll talk about that more later. So were doing 22 programs a week, you know. It took a lot of workin’ on songs and music to try to keep up. Not today–entertainers wouldn’t do that much work in a week. [You couldn’t pay ‘em enough to do it, Wade Hall says.]

So we were doing all those programs. My income went up very little from then until the time the program went off the air–not enough... We had the–the AFTRA union came in at WHAS and they didn’t help us one bit [laughs]–really. That’s the American Federation of Television and Radio Artists–AFTRA. The contract was signed for a year and then no re-contract ever [after that]–just went on with it, you know. So at the discretion of the management, they could have fired me at any time. I guess I’d have to say I just got used to being in what many would consider an insecure profession–the entertainment field–with a family to care for. I really didn’t think about it, you know. I enjoyed what I was doing, and during almost its entire time all the reports I got about ratings–about everything else–were extremely good. So I always felt like it was fairly secure for that reason, you know. But I could have thought, Well, you know, we don’t have a contract so it’s not gonna do but the original contract had no closing–it was an indefinite thing–so I just considered that that was still in force, you know.

You couldn’t do that today–you couldn’t afford to do that today because there’s no loyalty between, you know, corporate people and their [employees]. I’m sure there was loyalty between the two at WHAS in the early years. Barry Bingham Sr. was one of the finest men I think I’ve ever known. And the entire operation at that time at WHAS-TV and WHAS-Radio was kind of like a family, you know–everybody looked out for everybody else–everybody would help each other–whatever they were involved in–and you just never had that feeling [of lack of loyalty]. Harold Fehr–as in Fehr Brewing Co.--was the general manager. He was the general manager when I first went over there for “T-Bar-V” but not too long after that Vic Sholis became general manager of the station. And he had three sons, and they loved “T-Bar-V,” so that was another secured [laughs] thing for us.

I knew Barry Bingham Sr. enough in that he would call my name and we would speak to each. I didn’t visit with him much although quite a few times I took my band and entertained at his house. It would be different kinds of occasions–sometimes it would be New Year’s, or during Derby time he’d have a group of people in and we’d go out and entertain. I remember the Binghams and their friends would square dance just a little bit at those home party things, and we’d play for that. One of the other top men in the Bingham companies–can’t think of his–lived out on Covered Bridge Road–on the corner out there–what was his name? [Mark Etheridge or Lisle Baker??]–we entertained for them, too. I suspect the interest in square dancing was pretty much strictly with the Bingham Seniors because the younger ones [in the family] were not that turn at all, you know.

But I did like Mr. Bingham’s administration and the people who were connected with the station–even though they didn’t pay princely salaries. No, they sure didn’t do that. But I was [getting] as much as anyone else was getting–they were paying what was the going rate. And most of the time during my tenure at WHAS, a very fine fella named Jim Walton–was an announcer there–and did a lot of MC work–and he and I were equal pay about the entire time that I was there. And that was the top pay of anybody working at the station for a regular basis. It dudn’t make any difference whether I reveal what the pay was because people, I guess, would kind of would like to know what the differences were. And when I left WHAS in 1970, my salary was $16,300 a year. So it had gone up very little. When I first went over there, it was $125 a week.

Oh, yes, I could supplement it. Oh, yes, I played other places. Without that it would have been difficult, really, to make a living. And even back when I had the Swingin’ Cowboys on radio in 1947, we played every Saturday night at the Lincoln Tavern which is down in Hodgenville, Lincoln’s hometown, home, or where he was born. And I’ll never forget that because it was a dry county and those dances on Saturday night the sheriff was there and the trunk of his car filled with liquor [laughs]–anything anybody wanted [laughs]. He was selling it–yeah [laughs]–not giving it away. And so we got a set fee for that each weekend. And even at that time, we did some shows in school auditoriums and so on, and that’s when you’d get a 60/40 split or 70/30–whatever you can best get. That was no conflict with WHAS–they didn’t mind at all–and allowed us to advertise where we were going to be appearing, you know, on the station. [Wade Hall says, Of course, that was when the Grand Ole Opry didn’t pay anything to their performers, and they could announce where they were going to appear, and Atcher agrees.] Well, we were still able to do that and we did, after “T-Bar-V” started and so on–Cactus and I did a LOT of different shows. Of course, we were at Fountaine Ferry Park four or five times every year for different things. And there used to be a little place out on Seventh Street called Kiddieland and we were out there. No, it was not a nightclub; it was a little park where they had a little railroad train and children’s play areas. Oh, yeah, we’d ride that little train with these children and just have a ball. That was Kiddieland. [It was an amusement park for young children with safe rides–popular for birthday parties for very young children.]

And I mentioned we were down at Fountaine Ferry. The first Derby Parade Cactus and I were in, and then from then on for years we were in every Derby Parade. We weren’t performing we were riding a horse–I did–and Cactus rode an old mule. And I rode a horse. He was in costume. Oh, yeah, well those were fun times for us ‘cause we knew the people who were involved in starting it. Basil Caumissar [sp??]–he’s one of those who was at WHAS or at the paper–and Ray Wimberg [sp??]–they were the people who started the Derby Parade originally. And we were in those parades, and somewhere I’ll find you a picture of me on the horse and you can see Cac in the background ridin’ on the old mule.

Yes, I did recordings while I was at WHAS. After we had been doing “T-Bar-V,” I guess for a few years, a fella came to Louisville named Bill King–William King–and he was a promoter. So I met him and we talked and he said that he would do some booking for us which he did–booked us in different places. And by this time, of course, the “Hayloft Hoedown”–we haven’t mentioned this yet--but “Hayloft Hoedown” came on the air and I had the band of the “Hayloft Hoedown” band with me, and so we would do these shows, and he decided that he would get us a recording contract. So he went down to Nashville and got us a contract with MGM Records. And we went down to Nashville to record. At that time, the music which is fairly popular today was sort of starting, I guess, because the Acuff-Rose people–music publishers and so on–Wesley Rose–wanted us to do the songs–everything we did were songs I had written. And they wanted us to do them with that kind of loud, almost a rock kind of feeling to ‘em. And that really wasn’t my style. But we did ‘em and I guess we did 16 songs I believe it was. “Flying High” was one of them that Jane Morgan–a pop singer of the time–finally recorded. “Soft Shoulders and Dangerous Curves”–had one called “The Indian Rock” which was kind of a silly song. Uh, let’s see...This label was MGM Records. And I did recordings with Bob and Bonnie when we were in Chicago–as a matter of fact, we made the first record of two things: Bob and Bonnie sang “You Are My Sunshine”–first--before Jimmy Davis who wrote, you know. And then we recorded “Cool Water”–the first commercial version of it before the Sons of the Pioneers–we talked about that before. Those two were on 78s.

The 16 songs we recorded in Nashville were on 45s. By that time, they were usin’ 45s more. Anyway, Bill King had set that up and got this started, and he booked us quite a bit around the area. But they sent the records to Portland, Oregon as a trial market. And nobody in Portland, Oregon had ever heard of Randy Atcher so they didn’t do very well. One of the old gags they used to use on the stage that say that sold 400,000 and if anybody wanted, I have 399,999 in the car [laughs], you know. They didn’t sell very well but the funny thing was when we made that recording session–there’s an old, old mountain song that I always liked and it’s called “I’ll Be All Smiles Tonight”–it was public domain. I changed the melody just a little bit and we recorded it and they showed it as Randy Atcher–as arranged by Randy Atcher. And since the days of those recordings, it’s the one that pays [laughs]. Yeah, people are still using it some. And most every year I’ll get a small check from Acuff-Rose and that’s the one that they use, you know.

No, we didn’t do any LPs. We didn’t do an album at all–it was just the singles. And had they caught on in Portland, Oregon or wherever, I’m sure we probably would have got to that. But we didn’t. So we did eight 45s–16 songs–2 on each record. I have no idea why they chose Portland, Oregon as a testing area–I’ve always wondered about that. And of course, they Roses are gone now so no way to find out from them. And I always wondered about that–you’d think they’d want to pick the area you were popular in. [Or at least an area that was sympathetic to your kind of music, Wade Halls says, and Atcher agrees.] And I guess their thinking would be–is that if they go in an area where nobody knows who it is or anything else, that that means it’s gonna be a success and they could afford to send out a lot of copies. [Wade Hall says, It’s like if you can make in New York, you can make it anywhere, and Atcher agrees.] Right, that sort of a feeling. But they didn’t do very well but we had fun doing the recordings anyway.

With our reputation in this area, I feel like we could have sold a lot more had they come here with them, you know, but they didn’t. And Bill King, as you probably know, became quite a promoter in the area–into harness racing and things like that. And he and I were friends for a long, long time–played some golf together at Audubon Golf Club with Pee Wee Reese and a bunch of the other fellas, you know.

[Wade Hall says, Of course, it got easier to do records–especially LPs–but this was really after you left television.] Yes, at the time we made those records at MGM, you had RCA and Columbia and Mercury and MGM–they were just about all you heard much about at all, you know. [But after that you could even have had your own label because I was thinking about all the LPs you see out in flea markets now–gospel trios that you never heard of with their own recordings and they sell them at their sessions, Wade Hall says, and Atcher agrees.] Well, we didn’t get around to that but we should have–or could have I think. We had a ready-made market for them.

No, we didn’t send out photographs to people on the radio and television. When my brother and I were first on WHAS Radio, an act called Asher Sizemore and Little Jimmy were on here in Louisville. And he sold songbooks–25 cents a copy–and I have seen four or five of these big mailbags full were coming in daily, you know. And they’d had pictures. We had pictures that we would take when we were playing a show somewhere but in most cases we gave ‘em away–we didn’t sell ‘em. We weren’t quite as mercenary as they are nowadays I don’t think [laughs]. But we would have publicity photos of me and the band–most of the time you’d distribute them when you were out somewhere–and we would sign them for the fans then; we didn’t mail them out.

We never ever had a band on “T-Bar-V” and after a few years, Herbie Koch left and went to Georgia and played the bell tower [carillon at Stone Mountain]–I’ve forgotten what they call it–the carillon bells–but he was at Florida too–that big one at Lake Wales. But in Georgia he was the–I can’t think what they call ‘em–a person who is the one of the in music or some other area for the state–a music laureate or that sort of thing. Anyway, he left and from then on it was just me and the guitar for the entire–well, Tiny Thomale–there was a period when we had him–shortly after Herbie Koch left–with his accordion–he came in and he would play along with us. So he was on with us for a while. So we did have music on “T-Bar-V” but not a band.

See, after a while, we realized that we had to do some entertaining. So one of the first things they did was get some of these old serials that they used to have in the movie theaters–13 chapters of somethingd, you know. We had Buck Rogers in the 25th Century, and Flash Gordon and kinds of those things. And so we’d have one chapter of those during the program. And then later, when those sort of ran out, we used a cartoon nearly every day. But then I would sing songs–the most popular one the kids wanted to hear all the time was called “Chocolate Ice Cream Cone.” It’s kind of a cute little song. No, I didn’t write it. That one was–I cain’t remember who wrote it but I’ve probably got somewhere who wrote it–but it was just a very popular one with them. But I sang every day just about–some kind of a thing, you know.

So I would come on the air with our theme song. And then–when “T-Bar-V” first came on, we had a theme song called “I Love the Prairie Country”–it’s an old Sons of the Pioneers song with a short chorus–and that’s what we used for a theme song. And then when I wrote the “Brush Your Teeth Song” and “The Happy Birthday Song,” I also wrote for the same melody the opening song of “T-Bar-V” which was [he sings] “Howdy, howdy boys and girls, it’s T-Bar-V Ranch time, we’re glad to see you all today and hope you’re feelin’ fine, We’ll sing and dance and have a show and a birthday party too, It’s T-Bar-V Ranch time.” Yes, it was a birthday party–yes, we had the cake and everything, you know. And the early days of it, we had a real cake. And one of the gags of the thing was Cactus–we had a what looked like the back of a Conestoga wagon and steps going up to that–and Cactus would bring the cake out, miss one of those steps and fall with his face in the cake–that was a standard part of the thing.

Oh, we were sponsored by RC Cola and Plainview Dairies and so on. You know, after the program is on at 3 in the afternoon–after the program, they’d give the children a piece of cake and RC Cola or glass of milk or somethin’. And we started gettin’ complaints from the parents. The children wouldn’t eat supper when they got home, you know [laughs]. So we quit that and they made a plaster of paris cake–‘course periodically, we’d get a real one and Cactus would fall face down in it--but many grown-ups have told me that that was the most disappointing thing they had was they found out the cake wadn’t real! [laughs] Because it looked real on the screen–it looked just like a big, nice cake, you know

[Wade Hall says, I realize all programs are going to change through the years but when I say what is the typical program, then you have to zero in a particular time.]. Programs to last as long as that one did, Wade, would have to have changing things, you know. ‘Course, we did songs but there was a period when we decided to do skits. And almost every person who was on the station was on those skits in some kind of a position. A later program director was like a Dicky Tracy detective, you know. And I’m sure you’ve heard us talk about Milton Metz who was the villain in the piece–he was called Squire McSneer. And he had a silk-top hat and a big black cape and he did all kinds of things. One time they hung my guitar up by wires and he came in, saw the guitar there and cut all the strings off it, you know, and oh boy, the kids were really upset and mad at him [laughs]. And we had some funny experiences with that [period using the skits.]. Yes, these were scripted skits. And we had rehearsals. And we had to memorize lines. There was some improvisation–especially with Cactus [laughs]–he couldn’t, he wouldn’t [laughs] learn lines–he had his own way of doin’ things. But we had some funny experiences with that thing.

I was talkin’ ‘bout the serials before. Well, I mentioned that Vic Sholis who was general manager had three sons, and one of the serials they came in with was called “The Clucking Hen.” And we’d opened with this black hand–hand covered with black–comin’ up behind a couch reaching over towards somebody [laughs], you know, and scared these kids to death, so they made us take it off [laughs]. So we didn’t get to see all that one.

I guess the funniest thing that I remember most is Squire McSneer decided he was gonna steal Santa’s reindeer so there wouldn’t be any Christmas, you know. And they had some deer at the Bernheim Forest, so they had him out there skulking around near these deer, and again, Vic Sholis called us and said, It had scared his kids and they thought it was real [laughs] and we had to stop it there. So they took him out there to Bernheim Forest and taped it–it was kinescope then. When we had the serials, they would be shown to the studio audience and also to the television audience but in the studio the sets–many times they didn’t get to see what was goin’ on [because of the obstruction of the sets] so Cac and I would have to just kind of entertain ‘em a little there in the studio while the TV audience was seeing the cartoons or the serials.

Anyway, it was fun to do and both of us really loved the kids. And they were funny and they were cute, and most every little boy came up in the early days wearin’ a pair of guns and a Hopalong Cassidy outfit or a Roy Rogers or a Gene Autry suit, and we would count one, two, three to have ‘em draw, you know, and all this was fun for them. And the little girls would be dressed in their fanciest little outfits, and many times one of ‘em would flip her dress up and say, See my panties–you know, would have lace and everything on them. And of course, now and then, you’d get something like a–I remember many times, of course, we had a wet place on the floor and then other things–they got scared–that happened frequently. But I remember one time we–there were different set-ups for it–at one time we had two benches–one down one side making a sort of a V and the kids sitting on that. And instead of having them come to us and maybe sit on our lap or somethin’, we would go behind them and talk to each child on their birthday. So I was over on one side of the V, and way over on the other this little boy kept sayin’, Randy, Randy–he was gettin’ louder and louder–and finally I couldn’t ignore it any longer–I had to go over and see what it was. And I went over and said, Yeah, yeah, what do you want? He said, Randy, we don’t watch “T-Bar-V” anymore. And I said, Well–here I am–I asked for it, you know, but I had to go on with it. And I said, You don’t watch “T-Bar-V” anymore? Why not? And his little sister was sittin’ next to him--she said, Daddy hocked the TV set [laughs]. I’m always sure that parents were more afraid of what was gonna be said, you know. Oh, yes, it was live. It was live up until the early ‘60s and they got tape, you know. So then we would tape it the day before. When we went to 9 o’clock in the morning, they’d tape it at 3 in the afternoon [the day before] ‘cause the kids could be home from school. And then the schools would show it the next day. Yes, it would run the next morning.

When we first started the show, we didn’t know what to do with [how many children to have on for each show]. As I mentioned earlier, we talked to as many as 100 in a day. Then they finally decided when we went to the half-hour that it had to be limited to 20. And so they’d make reservations. Oh, yes, six months to a year in advance–had to. It was that backlogged–the whole time. Children on the show could come back another time. We didn’t try to restrict it–make them stay away for a certain length of time before returning because we really didn’t remember that they were there [earlier]. Though they kept a record of how many, they didn’t keep a record of names. Yeah, yeah, I see several people nowadays that tell me they were on three times–or something like that. And of course, once in a while, they would be there the second time with a sister or a brother, you know. The parents brought them down to the station–they had to because they were so young. You know, most of “T-Bar-V’s” life–for several years we were at the old studios at Sixth and Broadway. And they would come in–and we had a fella named Jim Sheehy [sp??] who had been at WHAS a long time. Well, he was a difficult Irishman and he’d met ‘em, get ‘em all happy and everything–put ‘em on a big ol’ freight elevator–‘course, you know, the TV studio’s on the 7th floor–and he’d take them up there but he’d leave the parents in a radio studio on the 6th floor to watch the program. So this was always a traumatic time gettin’ these kids away from their parents and takin’ ‘em up there by themselves, you know. And at that time, we had those big ol’ cameras like this [demonstrates their bulk]–enough to scare you to death–but anyway, ‘cause they were so huge. And many times we’d have a child that just couldn’t do it–he’d cry and cry and cry and had to go to Mommy, so we’d have to let ‘em go back, you know.

We didn’t have room for the parents to be in the studio so they were never there. And had they been, the children would have been wantin’ to run to them, you know, and we didn’t want that either. But generally speaking, it really worked out well at all times.

Jim Sheehy was the man’s name. His son is still here and is in the advertising business. But Jim was really a fun kind of a fella. He was a greeter. That was what his job was to greet these people. And a lady named Katie [sp??] Steele who was secretary–she kept track of all the invitations and people writing in and so on. And, uh, over that period of over 20 years, they kept a count and it was 153,000–some number I don’t remember exactly what like 323 or some such number like that–that we talked to. So it was 153,000 plus. Well, you know, five days a week and the early days we’d have 100 and then 30 or 35, and then finally when we got back to the half-hour time we had to limit it eventually to 20–we didn’t even do that right at first–but we did have to limit it to 20.

[That may be some kind of record as to numbers of people on a show–perhaps] but there was a birthday program in almost every market. I don’t know that it was like ours. I know that they would have children but usually they would have children in bleacher seats and watch what went on. But ours was a participatory program with each child on camera. Oh, yes, they were part of the entertainment. You knew that their parents, their parents’ parents, their friends at school–the audience just spread with each child. Oh, we had some funny things happen. I remember one in particular that Cac and I almost never got over because this was before tape. And I’m sure a big brother or older friend put this young fella up to it–he was about seven years old and he came on, and of course, we were–I think Cactus was talkin’ to him about his birthday–how old he was and so on–he said he was seven and Cac said, Wave to Mom and Dad and ever’body. So he goes, Hi, Mom and Dad, Grandma and Grandpa. And that’s for you Herbie [boy gives the finger] [laughs]. And that was before tape and we couldn’t do anything about it–we just acted like it hadn’t happened, you know [laughs]. But I hear ‘bout that from people today.

Live television was exciting because you couldn’t bleep it out. And another thing on “T-Bar-V’ that happened was that we used to have firemen, a policeman and a nurse–once a week they came in and they would sort of educate people. And this was one very dry summer and Sgt. McGill was his name–and he was the fireman that was coming in at that time–and this was the time Tiny Thomale was with us–he was standing behind–Tiny was 6 feet, 5 ½–that’s why he got his name Tiny–and Cac was on one side and was on the other and he’s talkin’ to the kid about drought and how dry it was. And he said, Now boys and girls, if you’re ridin’ along in the car with your mom and dad, and they’re smokin’ a cigarette, you don’t want ‘em to throw it out–might catch everything on fire–so you tell ‘em to keep their butts in the car...ah, cigarette butts, you know [laughs]. Everybody may have been talking about that–of course, I heard about it [laughs] from everybody I saw or ran into, you know.

On the “Hayloft Hoedown” I remember one time we were doing–there was a Doris Day movie out and I believe it was called “Stagecoach”–I’m not sure about that–but anyway, there was a song from it that we were doing and it had to do with a stagecoach, and so they made a mockup stagecoach of plywood, and of course, in the studio they didn’t have any way to make it look like it was movin’ along–they had a seat up there just like the old-fashioned stage coaches and I’m sittin’ up there and Shorty Chesser’s sittin’ beside me with a shotgun across his arm here–he’s ridin’ shotgun. And I’ve got a bullwhip in my hand. The reins go out and are kind of attached to a part of the camera in front. And of course, as I’m goin’ along, I’m singin’ this song and I’d raise and lower that whip back and crack it, and almost every time the camera would go [laughs] like this [demonstrates how it shook], you know. The guy’s afraid I’s gonna hit ‘im [laughs]. And we got about half-way through the song and the stagecoach started breaking up. They had sat it on a piece of telephone pole and would rock it back and forth to make it look like it was moving. And it started to fall apart–and this is before tape, too. And Shorty’s sittin’ over here–and he goes, [he demonstrates] Oop!! oop!! oop!! And Cactus saw it happen and he starts goin’ around tryin’ to get out of the picture and they had a picture of him crawlin’ around [laughs] behind [this]–gonna help [laughs]–they were showing this on the air. Cactus may have been the comic but they weren’t trying to show him doing this–it was just that they didn’t have any camera that he could get out of the way [of]. The thing finally just almost completely just crushed down. But there wadn’t anything we could do [laughs]–we just had to go on with it [laughs]–it just happened, you know [laughs].

I don’t think anybody ever got hurt on any of those TV sets. I don’t remember anybody ever having been hurt. I had guitar get, uh, well, the neck kind of broken because they another one of those things where they hung it up by wire and when Squire McSneer started to do something, he bumped the wire and it came loose and landed on its neck and broke it. But don’t remember anybody ever getting physically hurt.

These days I can’t even go to the grocery store or to the mall just about without someone coming up to me and saying, I was on your–especially “T-Bar-V” because that’s the one they remember because they were a part of it.

“The Hayloft Hoedown” started in 1951. And it was to be just a kind of a country music variety program. We had our band which we called The Red River Ramblers, and that was Bernie Smith, Shorty Chesser, Tiny Thomale–at that time George Worthman [Workmah\n??]. Janie Workman was the girl singer. And we had a trio called The House Sisters. They had been working with us on “The Old Kentucky Barn Dance” and we just brought them on over to television. Well, that was “The Hayloft Hoedown” program. And it was a country music variety program. And it started in ‘51 and didn’t go off till, well, December of ‘69, so it was on for almost 19 years. And over that period of time, we had a lot of guests. Of course, I’ll never forget–I got a call from a fella named Neil in Memphis, and he said Elvis Presley was gonna be comin’ through town and would like to have him be on the program. This was sometime in the 1950s–I think 1956 but I’m not sure about that. You could find out probably by what happened afterward. Anyway, I’d heard about Elvis and the gyrations he did, and “Hayloft Hoedown” was such a family-oriented program that I told Neil we couldn’t use him. Well, you know, in six months, I couldn’t have bought him for $10,000, you know. But I always said I knew how to pick ‘em.

And the only other thing like that was a fella named Don Gibson who wrote a lot of songs, was one of Nashville’s stars for years–called me at the station and wanted to be on the “Hayloft Hoedown.” At that time, we were pretty much full and I just said, Well, there’s no way we can use you on the program. And within a matter of months, he was doin’ things down at Nashville, making hit recordings, selling songs–“I Can’t Stop Loving You” was one of his songs and that’s a very popular song. So you can tell I really know how to pick ‘em, you know.

Oh, gosh, we had lots of guests on “Hayloft Hoedown.” Many of the guests we had were here for the Crusade for Children. And we’ll talk about the Crusade ‘cause that’s an important thing. But Homer and Jethro were on. Marty Robbins. Ray Price. Let’s see–one of these days–soon, Wade–I’ll get you a list of all the people who were there. I always felt about “The Hayloft Hoedown” program that we could showcase anybody–they didn’t have to be a country music person to be showcased on the program.

SIDE B

May 15, 2000

...some of the guests we had on “Hayloft Hoedown”–I was tryin’ to think of the fella’s name–it was an orchestra leader long time back–no, it wasn’t Skitch Henderson–Skitch was here but he wasn’t on the “Hoedown.” We had many of the people that sang or did something like that would be on. And if they came here for the Crusade, they were on. But then we had a lot of individual guests who were local people. We had the Woodford Sisters–that was three girls–they were from Kentucky–they lived down in the state. The Haycraft Sisters from a place called Rabbit Flats, Kentucky, you know [smiles]. And then Judy Marshall and Joann [Is Jo Ann one or two words??] Hale became regulars. Judy Marshall was on the “Hoedown” when she was about 15, I think. A young fella named Bobby Lewis who lived in Hodgenville–started there and he left us after a few years and went to Nashville and did a lot of shows with Ernest Tubb and so on down in Nashville. And I mentioned Bobby Lewis and was there–far as I know–lives in the area although the last time I tried to get in touch with him, he’d apparently moved from where he was. A fella named Taylor who lived over in Indiana–he sang on the program.

One of the funny things was Marty Robbins’ sister came up to be on the program. Her name was Rita–Rita Robbins. She had recorded four songs–two records–and those were the only four songs she knew. She was with us about two months and we had to let her go ‘cause she didn’t–wouldn’t sing anything else–just those four songs. [smiles] No, I don’t remember what the songs were. I liked Marty, yeah, and those guest appearances would be so short and quick, you know, they’d do one song [and that would be it.] One of the things I remember about Ray Price is that he couldn’t tune his guitar–we had to tune his guitar for ‘im. He didn’t act like he knew how to–he couldn’t hear it or somethin, you know. We had to tune it for him. Yeah, Marty was real nice and a real nice person to talk to. [Wade Hall tells of Marty Robbins playing on and on at the Grand Ole Opry at what turned out to be his last performance there; he liked to please the crowds and certainly gave the audience their money’s worth. Afterward, he went to the lobby to sign autographs for fans late at night. A v\ery accommodating entertainer.] Some people would sign autographs for fans–and he was one of ‘em–and a lot wouldn’t–a lot wanted to get away as quickly as they could.

There’s no doubt about it, country and Western performers back then were friendlier to their audiences, closer to their audiences. I think most of the country entertainers that I knew at that time were maybe not quite as much as Marty but generally speaking, were willing to do things that the audience wanted them to do–autographs or sing songs that somebody asked them to do. Generally, they were a gentler group of people and they liked the audience–they liked their fans. Yes, they were accessible–that’s a good word–accessible, yes. I’m sure that country performers then were more accessible than other entertainers of that period–I’m sure that’s true. Of course, I guess one of the only things that upset me some in those days more so than–well, nowadays it’s a different thing–but some of them drank a great deal. I always considered the band I had at “The Hayloft Hoedown”–I was the luckiest person in the world, you know–none of ‘em drank–if they did it was just an after dinner drink, you know, and they were there EVERY day, on time for the programs–didn’t have any problems with ‘em over those...I never had any problems with band members–even when I had the Swingin’ Cowboys in 1947 I didn’t have any problems with ‘em. I used to kind of want to say that’s because of the way they were treated by me but then [laughs] that may not have been true at all. [laughs] [Wade Hall says, I’m sure that was part of it but sometimes a lot of entertainers think that boozing and womanizing kind of comes with the territory.] No group that I ever was with did we have that kind of problem, so ...

[Wade Hall says, Yours was really a family show and you couldn’t afforded to have had people who were getting into trouble like with the law.]

Well, of course, ever’body knows, I expect, that Cactus used to drink his lunch–quite often he’d go over to the Brown Hotel and maybe have a few martinis and then we’d be doin’ “T-Bar-V” at 3 o’clock in the afternoon. And there were periods when I worried about what he might say or what he might do. But I must say, over that long period of time he never did do anything, you know, bad enough to matter--I’d have to catch him in something but...No, he was never arrested–they wouldn’t–no policeman in Louisville would have arrested HIM–not for public drunkenness or something like that. No, see, every year–called the Widows and Orphans–we did a program–for two or three things a year we would do things for the Police Department–entertainments. Most all of the policemen in the entire area knew us either from having seen us on television or just from being there, knew we appeared there. And I think if either one of us had–were in a shape where we couldn’t make it–all they’d do is just put us in a car and take us home, you know. And I’ve had experience with that, I guess, first [word??] of it, one time, down on Zorn Avenue there’s a four lane area there that goes by the Veterans Hospital and the speed limit’s 35 miles an hour. I always thought it ought to be higher–anyway, I was goin’ down through there about 45 and a policeman pulled me over, you know, and he came up, and [said], Anyway, let me see your driver’s license–you know–and I handed it out to him and he looked at it and then he looked at me and said, I’m not gonna give Randy Atcher a ticket [laughs]. And he handed it back to me [laughs]. That was while I was still a regular on television. Yeah, that was one of the perks.

We felt like we knew all the policemen–and did know many of them–just by name, you know, see ‘em–we knew every police chief as they came along ‘cause they were the ones who would ask us to come and do the entertaining that we did for ‘em.

[Wade Hall says, Next time we’ll take about the charities Randy and his musician colleagues were involved in, including Crusade for Children, and the FOP charities.] I’ve got somethin’ I’ll let you have a copy of: I’ve been in Who’s Who in Entertainment and Who’s Who in the World, and so on, and it’s got a quick synopsis–see [as he shows an item], I was named Man of the Year by the Police Department, by the Fire Department, and so on–several boards and things like that I can show you–tell you about.

A typical “Hayloft Hoedown” program: A normal “Hayloft Hoedown” program–we would–almost–every show–because I was considered to be the top person–and we’d open it and I would do a song, either by myself or with the group singing. The name of my band on the program was The Red River Ramblers, so it was Randy Atcher and the Red River Ramblers. And I would open with a song either by myself or with a singing group maybe do somethin’. [I think he means if he didn’t perform alone in the opening, he would perform WITH a singing group.] And then it might be Judy Marshall sing a song. And then maybe we would have a duet with Shorty Chesser singing with one of the other members or with me or something. And Tiny Thomale and Bernie Smith on almost every program–they would have a solo to play on the guitar for Bernie Smith, and on the piano for Tiny. And it depended, of course, on who was there for the program in the way of girl singers and so on. We might have Judy Marshall and Joann Hale on the same program and they might each do a solo, and then do a duet together. We finished EVERY program for its duration with some kind of a gospel song. And then I wrote the closing theme song–the opening and closing songs for it, too–and uh, the closing song we always just called “The Goodnight Song.” It went: [he sings] “The time has come to say goodnight--good-night, good-night, But we’ll be here next Friday, Until then, Goodnight. We’ll sing the songs you love so well, we’ll dance and play your cares away. But now it’s time to say goodnight–good-night, good-night. ”

And the opening theme was: [he sings] “Come on everybody, all join in the fun, Lots of songs and dancin’, fun for everyone. Here the fiddles ringin’, guitars a-keepin’ time, come on everybody ‘cause it’s Hayloft Hoedown time.”

[Wade Hall says, I see the difference. Very upbeat, joyful at the beginning, party-like, and then at the end because you’ve just had the hymn–the gospel song–you’re kind of slowing down;]

We’d be kind of easily going out at the end.

[ASK RANDY ATCHER: WEREN’T THERE SQUARE DANCERS ON THE PROGRAM EVERY FRIDAY NIGHT????]

‘Course, Cactus was on the program, you know, and he’d do his funny little comic bits–and some awful jokes, you know–but when he finished the bit each time, he’d do a little buck and wing tap dance, and then run at the camera [laughs]–and the kids [laughs] would think he was gonna come right on through after them [laughs]. Cactus wore overalls–a plaid shirt and beat-up overalls–had a big ol’ chain hanging like a watch chain in front–ol’ beat-up Western hat which he turned back in front and had a big safety pin to hold that back–and old boots–the boots looked like they’d been around for 100 years–he wore Western boots. And he was just dressed as that. And of course, he used makeup–he had clown kind of makeup. Yes, Cactus was on the program for the whole length of time it ran. After he left the station, he retired–I guess is what you’d say. He was retired from there and didn’t do anything. A couple of, few times he and I did some little entertainments together but they were just hit and miss kind of thing now and then. And then he had a heart attack and had a triple bypass operation. Tom had always been a golfer and was really a good golfer and played a lot. And after he had this triple bypass, he just kind of sat down and didn’t do anything, and uh–his wife tried to get him just go out in the backyard and do, you know, swing a golf club or something. He didn’t do it and never did for the rest of his life. I always thought that was a shame; he lived a long life but the last several years he was in a nursing home and that’s difficult for him. It’s been about two years–two to three years–since he died. Betty’s got the date, and I’ll get the date. But anyway, he was 87, when he died.

He was the same as I was at WHAS--[his contract]–‘course it was announcer’s [contract]. He was an announcer basically, you know, and in addition to the “Hoedown,” he did an announcing schedule. [Gregg Swem says, On station breaks, he’d often say something like, “This is WHAS–it’s seben o’clock.” You could always identify his voice; it was distinctive but had a regional overtone.] And we will talk about them–after “Hayloft Hoedown” went off the air–even before that, the radio programs–a lot of those had gone off the air on radio–so they made an announcer out of me. I did an announcing schedule. That would be from about 1967, ‘68, ‘69–and you know I did a regular announcing schedule–would be on sometimes evenings, sometimes mornings–and in a television booth about all you did was do station breaks–and might have to gone down radio and do somethin’ and come back up and do [television station breaks]. I did that until I left WHAS.

And I don’t know whether I mentioned this to you before, but the thing that I’ve been–still have resentment about is–“T-Bar-V” like a I mentioned went off the air in June of 1970–and it was a Friday and we did our usual program–talked to about 20 children and so on–came out of the studio to the dressing room and the program director came in and said, That’s your last program. I had no idea and you would have thought after that many years of being on, they would have done a farewell program. I can’t help but have the idea they were afraid to–that there might be too many people who’d be upset about it. But Mr. Barry Bingham Sr. was no longer involved–he turned it over to his son–and my understanding is that he didn’t care very much for country music and the first thing he did was take off “The Hayloft Hoedown” and then “T-Bar-V” and–Vic Sholis was still there and had been general manager a long time, and I’ve always admired him because just as soon as that transition was done, they wanted him to take “T-Bar-V” and the “Hoedown” off the air, and he refused. So about the same time “T-Bar-V” went off–maybe a little before “T-Bar-V” went off–they put him out to pasture. They gave him a–he still had an office there ‘cause he had a little time to go on getting–drawing whatever–pension or whatever it was he was trying’ [to get]. And he had nothing to do with the station from then on other than just in an advisory capacity.

Oh, yes, those two programs were still popular. “Hayloft Hoedown”–most of its career was one of the most popular programs in the area, including network programs. I’ve always resented that [decision to drop those two extremely popular programs.] I did not remain there as an announcer. When “T-Bar-V went off, I had another short period until they could decide what they were gonna pay me in the way of severance pay and so on. It was just terminated there. That was about June of 1970. So we were off the air and then WLKY–they called me and wanted me to do it–the “Hoedown” there–so we did a three-month contract with the “Hayloft Hoedown” group with Channel 32. And Cactus couldn’t do it. And in whatever contract he had signed back in the beginning, it said that he couldn’t do that if he went to another station–he would lose his pension. But that wasn’t the case with me ‘cause at that time I was 52 years old–51, 52–I couldn’t–I wasn’t retired as such although I had a pension. But I had a vested pension so I got some of that, but–yes, that was through the Bingham companies. And another thing we had was we could not start a program called “T-Bar-V Ranch” for two years; I always thought that was kind of strange, you know. You’d think they’d say EVER! But we couldn’t use the “T-Bar-V” format for two years. And I never did do it again but...

OK, one of the reasons I wanted to talk about vacations–“T-Bar-V” went on the air, as I have mentioned earlier in 1950, and then in 1952–now it had only been on the air for goin’ on two years–we decided to take a family vacation and do a tour. We were gonna go down–a driving tour-gonna go down through Arkansas and into Texas and then across the southern part of the country over to Florida and Key West and that way. So we did that–we started out–and we went through Houston, Texas and then turned and went over toward Florida, and we got to New Orleans, and one of the things I always thought I’d like to do is have dinner at Antoine’s. So we decided we’d do that and we went into Antoine’s and I had not completely sat down in my chair until a child came up to me and said, Randy, I see you every day on television. And that was such a surprise to have that happen. But I remember that tour because it came up one of those awful thunderstorms and it was a time of year when there weren’t very many people down there and we found a tourist court–that had a little separate houses like, you know, and we were able to stay in one of those–and felt like it was gonna blow away, you know, but, uh, we went all the way down the west coast and those towns that now are full of these high-rises and motels and so on–there was practically nothing there then.

And after we’d been doing “T-Bar-V” at WHAS for five or six years, they started giving us–instead of two weeks’ vacation–we got to have three-week vacation. When I was gone, they would have a substitute then–almost always it was Shorty Chesser who substituted for me–or for Cactus if he was gone. So anyway, my family wanted to go out west. And Bill Ladd was a critic on the paper [radio and TV critic for The Courier-Journal??] and we were good friends–he wrote some really nice things about “T-Bar-V” and the programs, and we were good friends and they were going to Rocky Mountain National Park every summer for a vacation. And said, We’d think you’d like it–you know–so we followed them one year out there to the Rocky Mountain National Park. There there’s cabins you know with fireplaces and so on, and so–the larger building here has a fire alarm that’ll go off almost any time ‘bout anything [Randy Atcher referring to a fire engine being heard close by and coming into his condominium complex]–anyway, so they told me, Now you make a reservation–you have to call ‘em at midnight Dec. 31st or you’ll never get in. So we did that and we were able to get in. And once you’ve gotten in, you kind of make that the next year you’re gonna do the same thing. So for years we went out there. I climbed Twin Peaks out there which is about a 13,000-foot mountain, and things like that. I really enjoyed those times out there. And my family–my son–became a rock hound, as they call ‘em–collecting rocks. And I came back from there one year with a–I had one of these–it was a 1965 Ford little coupe–and it had 700 pounds of rocks in it–and it was more like the nose was up in the air [laughs] and practically draggin’ the ground in the back. But, uh, I brought back all those rocks, and for years, we would collect rocks when we’d go out there. And take a drip down into New Mexico–there was a Rock Hound State Park in New Mexico that we’d go to and that was kind of strange to me–they had a bulldozer there–and they’d bulldoze down part of the side of the mountain that was there and you could find rocks, you know.

But one year I had to come back early because I had to be here for a “Hayloft Hoedown” program that was going on. So I left my wife and son out there and they were to come back–well, they got in one of those dust storms that comes across Kansas, and it was sort of half-rain, half blowin’ this sand and dirt, and they almost didn’t make it back, you know. You couldn’t see–the windshield wipers would just smear the mud, and so on. And then, the power steering went out, too, on the way home. So they had a tough time makin’ it back.

But we did that for several years in a row, and then finally decided that maybe we liked Florida so we started goin’ down to Florida for vacations but really, when I worked at WHAS-during those years–everything just worked out fine. We did our vacations, we did programs without much hassle, you know. The producers and I always got along well. And all the musicians and singers–I never had people come up and say, I didn’t get to do it as much as I wanted to. Or that sort of thing. It was a really comfortable and good program.

I’m going to get–this is for you primarily–I’m gonna get a list of all the guests who had been here for the Crusade. And if I get that, then we can talk about all of ‘em because almost every one of ‘em was either on the “Hoedown” or would appear on “T-Bar-V” or somethin’ just to promote the Crusade if nothing else.

The country and Western show I had on radio was called “The Old Kentucky Barn Dance” and we went on CBS with that on what CBS called “Saturday Night Country Style.” And there were six stations–it was WHAS; and Richmond, Va.–no, I mean Wheeling, W.Va.; and Shreveport, La.; uh. Each of us did a half-an-hour, and two of us would be this week, and another two be the next week, and so it came around about every third week. It was cycled. So I was national then; it was called “Saturday Night Country Style.” And they’d visit “The Old Kentucky Barn Dance” and the Wheeling barn dance or whatever. It lasted six months; I believe it was a contract for six months. That was about 1954, or ‘55, around that era. I may be able to get you specific dates on that...I even wrote a song about it–maybe I’ll find it around here–called “Saturday Night Country Style.”

My son moved to Florida about 4 ½ years ago–goin’ on five years, I guess, and lives at Indian Rocks Beach which is just south of Clearwater. He works for the government. He worked for the government here at Bowman Field, and of course, he was in Vietnam for 14 months, and when he came back, he decided he would go to work for the government. And he worked as a civilian but stayed in the reserves so he’s a lieutenant colonel in the reserves and has already had to retire from that. And then he’s worked as a civilian. He hates cold weather so he got the opportunity to transfer to Florida and he’s still workin’ for the government–actually in Tampa–he has to come across the bay to Tampa to his job every day. But he also does music. He’s a computer nut and [is with them?? or visits them?? can’t understand word] all the time, and he has put over 1,000 songs–backgrounds–on computer–whatever they use–and then he plays the guitar and sings with these backgrounds. And he’s got Glenn Miller, he’s got Benny Goodman, he’s got all kinds of backgrounds–and country backgrounds as well as others, you know. He does it commercially. And usually it will be prior to a theater production and then during intermission–that’s what he’s doing most of the time now. [Wade Hall says, Because I know you can buy those backgrounds–or maybe you can go into certain studios and tape yourself singing to accompaniment.] You can do that but in his case he wrote them out, you know, on his computer and put the backgrounds on himself. You get a–I guess something that gives you an idea of what’s supposed to happen. Yeah, he has a website. No, I don’t know what it is–I’ve got to call him in the next few days so I’ll know next time. No, I don’t have a computer at home. We haven’t gotten to it–we talk about it all the time and we haven’t gotten to it. Yeah, I’m sure it’s an easy way to keep in touch with people. Betty’s sister-in-law has a–just a laptop–but she does all that stuff where they have [all the time?? can’t understand words].

[Wade Hall says, Well, you can go to Gateway and just get you a complete setup.] I wondered about that–they advertised one for $999–is that a good thing? [Wade Hall tells him it is a good price.] Well, we’ve talked about it and one of these days I’m just gonna go do it, you know. [Wade Hall says, It’s amazing what you can do with computers–it’s a whole new world. And you’re not too old to learn–I can tell you that, and Randy Atcher laughs.]

May 30, 2000

...It started on Friday–Saturday–Sunday–and Monday. Well, it’s just the Ned Beatty Classic for Easter Seals and the Easter Seals people wrote to me and asked me to be one of the celebrities at the–well, the entire affair–starting with a walk on Friday morning–sort of to get funds–people pay for however far you walk–well, I’m past the age of being able to walk much so I took some pictures–autographed some pictures for people and so on–saw a lot of people that I knew. [Wade Hall says, I bet you were the best known person there to the public, and Randy goes along with that--whether it means anything or not–just trying to be agreeable.]. Ken Schulz, the weatherman from WHAS-TV, was there and a lot of people know him. And so on. But of the others–even Ned Beatty, you know–he came along with a couple of other television or movie people. So then that was Friday morning and then Friday evening they had “Tastes...” no, I guess this was Saturday–Saturday they had “Tastes of Oxmoor” and everybody went out there and this was proceeds to the Easter Seals thing. And then Sunday evening there was a sit-down dinner and then Monday was the golf tournament. And then Monday evening they went for a buffet dinner and awarding of the prizes for the golf tournament. And they had music–entertainment–and so on, you know. It was a busy weekend [laughs]. It raises money for Easter Seals. Well, last year they raised $100,000 and they’re hopin’ to do better this year. So I haven’t heard yet what they actually raised this year but I would hope–the estimate of the crowd at the golf tournament I think might have been a little high–they estimated 10,000 people–but there were quite a few people there. That was yesterday, and yes, the weather was beautiful–it turned out to be. I intended to wear my shorts–I walked out and it was so cool I went back and put on long pants, but by the time the afternoon got here, it was really nice.

Yes, the public memory generally isn’t too long when it comes to remembering TV news, weather and sports people. Jim Mitchell and those people who were in news years ago. Mort Crim and some of those people. And of course, goin’ way back in the old days–Pete French and Pete Monroe–all those people. I don’t think there would be anybody around who would know who you were talking about. While they were on the air, they would have been recognized in a large crowd, but not today in a large crowd. [Wade Hall says, It’s partly because they’re somewhat unreal to the television audience, you know. It’s not like seeing somebody live performing, and Randy Atcher agrees.] Of course, that’s been the most amazing thing to me about the “T-Bar-V” program and all these people who were on the program, and “Hayloft Hoedown”–everywhere I go–I cain’t go anywhere that I’m not recognized. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t do it–it’s difficult. I couldn’t slip around if I wanted to–at least not in the Louisville area [laughs]. And I kind of get a kick out of it because so many of these young people who were on who are now in their 40s and 50s and they still want to call me Mr. Atcher [laughs].

[Wade Hall says, But country musicians have always been noted for their closeness to their fans and this following you have today is perhaps illustrative of that, and Randy Atcher agrees.] I think a lot of that is because the people who like country music and country music people is that they hear them and they think–that guy’s like me–I can sing almost that good, you know [laughs]. And so they’re just nice people that they feel like one of them, you know. [Wade Hall says, But also, you’re singing about things they can identify with, and Randy Atcher agrees.] And of course, I think the reason people remember the “T-Bar-V” program and being on it–and even their families who weren’t on it but just remember it–is because television was new. And this was quite an experience for all of them so they have kept it in their minds–the songs that we did they still know the words to and sing everywhere I go.

[Wade Hall says, Louisville has had a lot of people like you in the public sphere, and Atcher agrees. People who either grew up here as you did and stayed, or who’ve come here and stayed. Radio and television. Yes, you’re right, Atcher says. And I think these people–like Bob Kay–people still know Bob Kay because he was here for a long time. And Atcher agrees.] As a matter of fact, I just Bob Kay just Sunday. Art Metzler, who–a name you might know–he did sports and so on, died. And I went over and Bob Kay was there. And Lou Harbinow [name??]. People from WAVE. Ryan Halloran. [Wade Hall says, When you live somewhere and raise a family and become a part of the community as so many of you–as you did, of course–people identify with you more, don’t you think. And Atcher agrees. Wade Hall says, You’re not in and out–just fly by night.] And it’s amazing how many people will talk to me and say, Do you live in Louisville now? Or, uh, Where do you live?–you know–And they think--they saw you on television and think you live somewhere else, you know. [Wade Hall says, Or since you’ve retired, you’ve moved somewhere else, and Atcher agrees and laughs.]

And speaking of that, a funny incident happened –this was “The Hayloft Hoedown” and we got a letter from a fella down in Hodgenville, Kentucky and he was really upset and he said that he wadn’t gonna watch the program anymore ‘cause he’d get up and shake hands with Tiny Thomale or Cactus and they wouldn’t shake hands. Isn’t that funny–some people think they look like they’re alive right there, you know [laughs], and they should be able to reach in the television [laughs] set and shake hands. [Wade Hall says, You’re supposed to be real, three-dimensional, flesh and blood, and Atcher agrees.]

My first recording experience was with my brother Bob and his wife in Chicago in 1939, ‘40 and ‘41. And then, when I came back to Louisville and was here and we talked about Bill King who became the manager and he got the contract for me for MGM Records, and we mentioned that they sent that to Oregon for [laughs] test market and it didn’t do very well in Oregon–they never heard of me [laughs]. Then, that’s really all of the basic recording that I’ve done. There were a couple of off-brand labels that I recorded–a label called Aztec–and on that label is “Santa Rides, Santa Rides a Snow White Pony” and a few of the other songs that I have written. But on MGM they were all songs I’d written and varied kind of things from “Indian Rock” to, you know, somethin’ [like] “I Need You Every Day” and so on. Just different kinds of songs. But the songs did not sell in Oregon so they didn’t put ‘em out. I still get a check most every year for the use of some of the recordings–but not much.

Yes, Bob and I stayed close throughout his life. And I think I mentioned there were four brothers and we sort of split off in twos. My oldest brother Raymond and Francis sort of paired off, and Bob and I paired off. And Bob and I were VERY close. ‘Course, he was in Chicago and his last quite a few years there he was a–after the WLS National Barn Dance program–and then became mayor and [built?? can’t understand word] Schaumberg, [sp??] Illinois. He had always said he wanted to come back to Kentucky. So after 16 years as mayor of Schaumberg, he decided to move back to Kentucky. And he and his wife came here, and I guess they were here about five years when he died. And his wife still is here–lives in Hunting Creek. And we see her regularly–Betty plays bridge with her–as a matter of fact, she stopped by today–she was in to see the doctor who’s nearby and dropped over for a few minutes. And they call her Maggie. Yes, they have children. They have two girls and a boy. Their boy is named–they call him Rob–and he is a scientist–works at Los Alamos–we were concerned about the fires they had down there–he’s in the laboratories there and much, much education and all kinds of things to do with nuclear medicine and so on. And then the two girls did a lot of work as a duo singing and had their own groups and traveled throughout the Midwest and then...they were known as the Atcher Sisters. And their names were–well, they call her Chris, and Cecily [is the other one].