Front Porch Ramblings
My Big Break Arrives In The Mail, Postage
Due. . .
By Stan Hitchcock
In 1959 I had been discharged from the Navy for one year, moved
back to my
Ozark home of Springfield, Missouri, and was helping in the startup of The Good
Samaritan Boys Ranch just outside of Springfield. I was singing with a great group of young
college kids called the Waymakers in churches, brush arbors, local events and
on radio around the Mid West. I was
living and working full time at the Ranch
and really loving it.
Life was good and I figured this was what I would be doing for the rest
of my hillbilly life. Singing Gospel
music and working with homeless boys.
I continued doing the radio shows with the Waymakers, recording
most of the shows in the ranch house of the Boys Ranch. We even recorded, and paid for, a couple of
custom albums for the Boys Ranch to help raise funds to carry on the work.
One day, in the early part of 1961, I was in the studio of radio
station KWTO recording some of our radio shows, when the recording engineer,
Wan Hope, asked me if I knew any country music songs. I said sure, (thinking
about the old Bryce Canyon Troubadours, my country band on board ship in the
Navy). He said he was setting up the controls and how about singing a couple,
maybe three, songs for him. You must realize that I was a total gospel singer
up to this point, without a thought of being a hillbilly singer. Well, Wan
taped those songs I sang, and he sent them to Bob Tubert, who was running a
publishing company for Si Siman, in Nashville,
at the time. Bob had gone to school in Springfield,
and later was part of the creative crew of the Ozark Jubilee, but I had never
met him. Bob took the demo of just me and my
guitar, and those old country songs, to the grand old man of
Columbia Records in Nashville;
Don Law.
Don Law was an Englishman who was responsible for most of the
great stars of the country music roster of Columbia Records, and one of the
nicest gentlemen this music biz will ever know. Of course, I had never heard of
Don Law in my life. So, when the phone rang at the Boys Ranch, and the man on
the other end said, “Stan, this is Don Law of Columbia Records, ” it didn’t
really ring any chimes in my head . . .
but I was polite, just like Mama raised me to be. Don Law asked me to come to Nashville and talk to him, and, of course, I
thought he wanted to talk about the Boys’ Ranch. I said, sure, I would be glad
to come see him. I got the directions, and hung up. The next day I went into
the radio station and asked Si Siman
about Don Law. He proceeded to fill me in on just who this man was and told me
that he had asked Bob Tubert to set up the meeting with him. Well, I don’t mean
to sound dumb, but I was so consumed with what I was doing at the Boys’ Ranch
that all I wanted to talk to him about was the work we were doing with the
boys. By this time we had about thirty boys. We had put on house parents and
set up a board of directors of some of the leading business people in the area.
The Ranch was doing well.
Anyway, I went on down to Nashville
for the first time around April of ’62. I somehow found my way to Bob Tubert’s
office, who then took me to Don Law’s office where we met with him. Don was the
very epitome of kindness and warmth and I began to open up to him about the
lives of these boys we were working with. He stopped me and said, “Sing me a
song.” Well, he had a guitar over in the corner, so I picked it up and sang him
a couple of good old gospel songs. Then, back to the story of the boys. Again,
very quietly, he said, “Sing me another song.” A couple of hours later he
finally pushed back from his desk, reached in the drawer for his checkbook and
wrote me a check for five hundred dollars for a donation to the
Boys’ Ranch. He shook my hand and said, “You’ll be hearing from
me soon.” I was elated with the gift of the check and went on
back to the
ranch feeling like it had been a good trip and a wonderful
opportunity to spread the word about homeless boys.
Three weeks later the postmaster up at the little country post
office just a mile from the Ranch called and told me I had a big package from New York City. Shoot, I
didn’t know anyone in New York City, but I went on up to the store, post office
and gas station that served as the closest tie to outside civilization, and
sure enough,
there was a big manila envelope with my name on it postmarked New York City. Opening it
up, I found a long-term recording contract with Columbia Records and a new life
that was just starting to peek around the corner, dumb luck or the fickle
finger of fate? Beats me, but ain’t that a weird way to get into show biz?
By Fall of ’62 I had recorded my first record for Columbia’s Epic label,
by November I had made a guest appearance on the Opry and was preparing
to move to Nashville.,
By Christmas if ’62 I was in Nashville in one of the worst snow storms
Middle Tennessee had ever seen. And the
music, for me, has never stopped.
So, I reckon that’s what I’d do for the rest of my hillbilly
life…slide along life’s slippery slope,
sometimes going towards the ditch, sometimes climbing the mountain but always
totally aware that God has His hand on me and when I start to fall, He gently
steady’s me and pulls me back. Course,
I’ll have to admit, sometimes when I am so bull headed and don’t feel His
steady hand He jerks me around and really get’s my attention. But, He always loves me, imperfections and
all.
Thank you God, for your patience and mercy.
Have a very Merry Christmas everyone, and may God Bless us all.
Stan