RC: Lee and Elaine, what are some of the earliest memories you have of wanting to play music as kids?

LR (Lee Roy): For me, I was probably about five.

I remember my grandmother playing fiddle, and my grandfather doing the old time Acadian dances. Uncles and aunts would all play guitar, piano, banjo, mandolin, fiddle, and sing.

I remember going to church, then going over to my grandmother’s for dinner afterward. It was a “gimme.” As sure as there was going to be food on the table there was going to be music that afternoon. I couldn’t wait to get there to hear them start playin’ the fiddle and start singin’.

"Elaine started singing before me."

Elaine started singing before me. She’d start singing a few things, and I would kind of back off to the side as much as I could and try to sing as best I could at that age. I just remember the draw of hearing music and what it did to me. There’s no doubt, looking back now, that, for me, that’s where the calling came from.

Lee Playing Drums With Uncle Alias

ER (Elaine Roy): And for me, too. You know, mom and dad always, always listened to country music, and from an early age we were always around that kind of music. Dad never played music. The music performance was all on mom’s side, but he sure loved country music. Any get together at the house we had, we would call our uncles or friends who could play the guitar and sing.

So, we were always around music. Like Lee mentioned, on my mom’s side, we were always getting together. When Grandma got out that fiddle, everyone had a smile on their face because they knew that we were going to get entertained that day. So, definitely, from an early age we were blessed to be around that family element. They loved music, and passed it on to us.

RC: What a wonderful, rich experience for some young kids to grow up in. Now, where was this geographically? Give me some more detail about the environment you were growing up in.

Siblings in Life and Music

LR: I see pictures that my mom has, and I see myself in the picture, but I don’t remember the earliest house parties where my sister used to get up and sing. So, for me the first real memory is in New Brunswick, Canada, in a little town named Coal Branch (Click to see a Google Earth visit). It was a real small town, probably 18 to 24 houses, one stop sign, a little general store, rail road tracks that went right down the center of the town, and just a great place to grow up. Even today, my kids could go outside, and I wouldn’t have to worry about it. It’s a very family-friendly place. There’s nothing to do, but there’s the world to do. There are no arcades. There are no malls.

ER: They’re just all outside with nature.

"I was raised where I could fish and hunt ..."

LR: Yeah. All my cousins that still live there have kids. Their kids grow up appreciating the not-so-technical side of life. They like to actually go outside and play, and get some fresh air. I was raised where I could fish and hunt a lot.

RC: And it really hasn’t changed much even to this day, then?

LR: No, not at all. It hasn’t changed.

ER: It’s like taking a step back in time. I mean, some people have moved away, and our grandparents are gone, but my aunt and uncle still live in the house that my grandparents lived in. So, when we go to Canada to visit, it’s like going back to grandma’s and grandpa’s house. I can still see her sitting on the couch, taking out that fiddle, and my granddad step dancing, and uncles playing the guitar and singing, and us jumping in. So, every time I go there it takes my breath away some because it brings me back to those moments.

RC: That’s wonderful. What a treasure!

RC: Now, I want you to stop and think of the funniest thing you can remember from growing, including, possibly, any mischief you got into as a kid.

LR: Well, for me, I actually put it in a song. In “Grandpa’s Barn” it talks about our getting caught smoking among several other things.

Our granddad smoked. He’d fall asleep on his chair, and some of the cigarettes would fall out of his back pocket, and land on the chair. We’d crawl up behind him, and we’d open the pack, grab a couple of cigarettes, close it, and go outside.

I swear to this day that he probably knew that we were doing it, and just waited for the right day. We went around to the back of his barn to smoke the cigarettes.

I turned probably a John Deere shade of green. Then, we went back around the corner, and he was standing there with this big grin on his face. He said, “I don’t think I need to tell your moms. [Seeing how sick I was, he said …] I think you’ve learned your lessons. You are not going to smoke again, are ya?” Then, he walked away, laughing.

A few days later I went over with my cousin Raymond, and Grandpa was there, smoking a cigarette. He saw us and had a smile on his face, because I’m sure he was thinking about catching Raymond and me smoking.

RC: So, did you smoke again? ;o)

LR: No, I never did after that!

RC: What is one of the most heartwarming memories you have of your growing up time?

ER: For me, when I look back on our upbringing, just having that family foundation. Mom and dad are the best parents in the world. They’ve always supported our music or whatever we were into. They always picked us up when we would fall down or get heartbroken. They always encouraged us, and helped us in any way they could. Now, I look back on that, and it really chokes me up (voice cracks) … as you can tell, I can hardly talk about it without crying. It really is a big part of my life and of who I am. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Parents Attended Every Concert & Event

LR: Yeah, and for me, it’s the same. You know, it’s hard in any career, if you want to advance in life, nothing’s easy. The music career is really hard, because it’s really a crap shoot. You can go to school and invest yourself into it with all your heart and resources, but there’s no guarantee that anything’s going to happen.

So, for mom and dad to sacrifice everything they could so that we could have the instruments we needed, and to give so much of their time to us … Dad would always be there when we were performing, not just watching but helping in every way he could. He’d be lugging equipment, even when his back was out and killing him. He’d still help. And mom was always there. To this day, they support us as much as they can.

If for some reason, we would say something like, we can’t see you, we have to go to Europe, they’d just say, “Go do what you gotta do.” They wouldn’t be selfish about it. They’re 100% behind us, and we could not have done this without them.

RC: Let me just confirm that you are incredibly blessed. I know you’re saying that, but just hearing what I’ve heard, I will join in from out outsider’s perspective to emphasize how fortunate you both are for having such a great family and family experiences. Sure, most parents love their children, but you seem to be especially blessed.

RC: So, you are siblings. It’s touching that you are both so close and are able to have your life’s vocation together. So, I’m sure you’ve never had a fight, right? ;o)

ER + LR: Laughing

ER: That’s always the million dollar question.

LR: Especially when we do radio tours, they’ll say, “OK, Lee. Now, I have a sister, and I don’t know how you do it!” The thing is we’ve grown up, and we’ve grown up together. We’re adults. We’re on the same page. We know what we want. Neither one of us parties. Both of us are dedicated to our families. We both know this is hard work. We’re on the road.

I’ll give her credit. She’s the business savvy one. I’m the type that, when I go on the road, it’s like, “Hey. I’m on the road. I don’t want to have to deal with hotels, venue clubs, and getting paid, and … ”

RC: … like having to deal with interviews ;o)

LR: She takes care of all that. What makes us a complete act is that she knows when it comes to the production side, the music side, the making sure that we have what we need onsite; she knows I’m going to take care of that. So, if we were both the same, if we both tried to handle the business side, or both did the production side, we’d probably have bigger disagreements. With us being as we are, we complement each other. It completes the package. It’s great to be doing this, but it’s even better to be doing this and sharing it with a family member.

RC: That’s really wonderful. I love the stories behind sibling teams. It’s very rare, but when it works, it seems to be almost magic.

RC: You won the ICM Duo of the Year of 2009 – taking that back to how you were raised, please tell us how faith played a role in your upbringing and what role, if any, it plays in your lives today.

ER: For me, my faith gets me through every day of my life, more so now as I mature and grow older. You know, we were brought up in church. We went to church every Sunday. Mom and dad are very religious people, and they passed that faith on to us.

Many, many days I lean on my faith, and I’d never be able to get through those days without it. Really, again, another blessing that our parents have given to us is prayer. Every day I pray for direction, for signs, for guidance. If I feel lost or don’t know where I’m going, there it is. God gives me little signs that I’m on the right path, to continue. So, definitely. I lean on my faith every day. I also feel very, very blessed that we’ve been able to do all the things that we’ve done in our life. I hope I’m a better person for it.

RC: You were playing music with each other as children. When did it look like your career was going to be together rather than just a family fellowship activity?

LR: I don’t really remember, because, we just always played together. There was a brief period when I played in a bluegrass band and she played in a country band, maybe for only a year or a year and a half. But even during that time, if we ever played for something at church, or for the family, or even for some community “gong” shows, it was together. I guess it just became a thing where I said, like, “You know, I really want to do this.” And she said, “You know what. I really want to do this, too.” So, we just started, but I’m not exactly sure the moment we were “professional.”

Stars of Tomorrow Contest

I do remember being in something like a “Stars of Tomorrow” contest in New England, and we came in runner-up, and there was an executive from RCA, one of the judges, who told us, “You guys are really good. You should really consider this [as your profession].” And I remember that kind of opened that door in our minds that we should really go out and try to book a few shows and really do this as an act.

But for me, I kind of always knew that this is what I wanted to do, and I probably just assumed that it would always be us performing together.

RC: When’s the first time that you got paid for performing as a sister / brother act?

ER: Laughs

It was probably a place called The Country Lodge, it was around November, sometime in the late 80’s. They hired us, and we were paid. I was still in high school, actually.

ER: Like a professional gig.

RC: What did your parents do for a living?

Coggshall Park, Fitchburg, MA
(photo by Marc N. Belanger)

ER: Mom was a stay at home mom. When we moved from Fitchburg, MA to New Brunswick, Canada, my dad bought a little general store. He started working there, and then later on he went to work for a gas company, as an executive.

LR: Yeah, there was a gas company in Canada called “Metro Gasoline,”

and it was like a BP type chain. He was an exec. He’d go around and look at locations to open new stores or buy stores.

RC: Did you ever work for him at the general store?

ER + LR: No, but we sure ate all the candy! [Both laugh]

RC: [Laughs] Good answer!

LR: In the basement he had a cold storage room where he’d store all the sodas and the, the …

ER: Chocolate bars! Ha!

LR: … and the chocolate bars, and …

ER: Chips!

LR: Yeah, chips, and we’d go down there and …

RC: Was he aware that you were eating all the candy?

LR: We’d eat a lot of candy and drink the soft drinks, and he’d go, “I thought I had more Pepsi than that laying around.” But, he’d find all the empty cans.

RC: I guess you were probably too young then to get to work for your dad at the store, anyway.

LR: Yeah, I was about 7 or 8 at the time, maybe 9 before he left that.

RC: Did you get to work with an uncle or aunt? Are there any other family members that you want to highlight as being a part of your growing up experience?

LR: I did. I worked for my father’s brother, Uncle Ronnie, Ron Roy. I worked for him for a couple of different times, during high school, and again in the mid-nineties. I had gone back home for awhile. He’s in Massachusetts. He owned a construction company, and I did all kinds of work for him.

RC: Do you feel that time was “formative” for you, or that it had any special significance?

LR: It was. It was about the only moment in my life when I wasn’t sure if I wanted to do music. We’d been trying for so long without much happening, and I began to have doubts. You start thinking, “What am I doing?! I’m married. I have a kid. I need to build a future for my family.” Going to work for him really made me miss the music, miss performing.

And, Uncle Ronnie even told us that. We’d still play sometime on the side, and he’d come to hear us. After coming to see us or hearing one of the songs I’d written, he said, a couple of times, “What are you doing?! Why are you banging nails all day? You need to be doing your music.” It made me realize, that I really did want to do this.

RC: So you really love that guy a lot.

LR: Oh, I do. He always has been very special to me. He’s one of the ones that still comes by every time we play at home. He’s a very gentle man, and just a really nice guy, who would give the shirt of his back for anybody.

RC: Who else can you guys remember who helped you become who you are, who you appreciate?

ER: For me, absolutely. My dad had a Gibson guitar that he’d bought from somebody, and always kept it at the house. He never learned how to play the guitar himself, but every time someone came over who knew how to play the guitar, he’d say, “Hold on! I have a guitar,” and they would play it. I remember looking at that guitar and thinking, I want to learn how to play that thing.

I had a teacher when we lived in Canada. Her name was Nancy Grant. A lot of the kids in our school were musical – there was a lot of music in the little town we came from in Canada. Everybody played something. Ms. Grant said, if I can get just 5 or 6 students, I really think that you guys are so talented, and I could teach you how to play guitar. She had a nylon string guitar, which was so cool. It’s so different from what I play today. She said, “If you have instruments, ya’ll bring them, and I’ll show you how to play guitar.” So, that’s how I learned to play guitar. She showed us the major chords, a few bar notes, and Lee will say he doesn’t remember this, but later, I taught him how to play guitar.

LR: Elaine taught me how to do like ‘D’, ‘G’, and ‘A’.

ER: The major things

LR: … and I kind of took off from there, and … For me, if I heard something on the radio that I really liked, if I got the CD, I would sit down and just learn those parts, learn how to play. I pretty much self-taught myself.

Uncle Alias, Uncle Joe, and Elaine

Of course, our grandmother was a big influence, but for me, there were at least two big influences in my life, musically, from our family. I credit both of them equally for giving me the drive to do this. My mom’s brothers, Joe Leblanc and Alias “Al” Leblanc … our Uncle Al is no longer with us, but Joe played the fiddle and Al played the guitar. Both of those guys really pushed me. Sometimes, they would literally tell me, “You have so much talent. You need to do this.” I’d go, ah nah, and I’d only half heartedly learn something, like one of the old Acadian tunes. They would really push me saying, “You’re missing notes. You’re takin’ the easy way.” They would really push me to make sure that I was as good as I could be, and they are a huge reason that I’m standing here today playing music.

RC: That’s wonderful. You keep mentioning grandma. Tell me a little bit more about her.

ER: Her name was Suzanne Leblanc.

Grandma Suzanne LeBlanc with her Fiddle

[ At this point, having noticed that Lee and Elaine had pronounced Leblanc as “Lablank,” I interrupted and mentioned that I was surprised that they didn’t pronounce it “Le-blaughn-kh,” since they have French Canadian heritage. ]

ER: Oh yes. We can say it in French as well. We do speak fluent French. Our parents are French. Both sides are French. When we went to school in Canada, it was in French. We had to learn everything in French.

RC: Again, another big blessing from your upbringing – being bilingual.

LR: One really cool thing that keeps the memory of our grandmother alive is that we both still have our grandmother’s fiddle. We still have the fiddle that we grew up listening to.

RC: Wow. Your family is such a force behind you, and is clearly still living in and through you as you do your art and work.

RC: I’ve had you now for thirty minutes. I’ll send you the transcript, and get some pictures and any additional thoughts back from you after you read our initial conversation. Then we’ll get something out that really honors you and your family. Thank you so much.

LR + ER: Thank you, Mike. We’ll talk to you very soon.

RC: God bless.

This post was submitted by Lee and Elaine Roy.

Charlie Louvin

Photo by Anthony Pepitone

Ira and Charlie Louvin, Approx. 1958

Childhood

RC) We’re looking forward to getting your reflections on your career in country music and any experiences you can share of growing up in the country.

Mr. Louvin:

Well, I’m sorta livin’ in the country now.   I’m out here on 48 acres.  We love it in the country.  I live 75 miles from Nashville.

I tell people constantly, don’t tell me “You live so far out.”  We live out here by choice.  I wouldn’t want to live in town where I couldn’t stand on the front porch to pee, if I wanted to.

RC) Can you tell me one of your earliest memories.

Mr. Louvin:

Ira was born in April, 1924, and I was born in July of 1927.

Musically, I started singing when I was 8 and Ira was 11.

My daddy loved music, almost any kind of music, especially country or gospel. So, when people would come to see him, he would insist that Ira and I sing these people songs.  We were so bashful, it was pathetic.

In the living room there was a bed.  In every room except the kitchen there was a bed, because there were 7 kids, plus Mama and Papa.

Mama and Papa slept in the living room.   Papa would get up and build a fire.  When we finally got up the room would be warm.

We would crawl under Mama’s and Papa’s bed, which was about 16″ off the floor.  We’d put our hind ends together and we would sing a song. That’s how we learned to phrase together without lookin’ at each other, without steppin’ on each other’s toes, or winking at each other.  It just come natural.

If the song was gonna get too high for me to sing the lead on, at that instant he’d take the high lead, and I would come under him with low harmony. We learned it that way, and it that kinda mystified other duets who were tryin’ to figure out who was doin’ the tenor and who was who was doin’ the lead.

But, back to papa asking us to sing, …

We’d climb out from under their bed after singin’, and beat it, … get outta there.  We wanted to get out of the house before they could ask us to sing for someone.

I always hated it when people would ask you to do something, then they’d ignore you, like asking you to sing, then having conversation and laughter with each other like you weren’t there performing for them.

RC) To get so involved in music at that young age, your home environment must have had a lot of music in it.

5 String Banjo

Mr. Louvin:
Well, my daddy played a 5 string. That was the first instrument that Ira picked up on.  That’s not too good to sing with.  So, Ira switched off to the guitar.

My mama was an extremely good 4 note singer.  There was probably 100 songs in this book she had, and she knew every one of ‘em, by heart.  She would sing the notes, the fah soh lahs, and then she’d sing the words.

Of course, she sang while cookin’ dinner, cookin’ supper, or washin’ the dishes.   Whatever she was doin’, she was singin’ an old song.

That’s where the Louvin Brother harmony came from, was the 4 note, Sacred Harp singin’s.

That was the style. We grew up in a country setting and at a time where Sacred Harp singin’ was the thing.  Sure, we had singin’ schools where they’d teach it so you could read the music, but we never did that.

Professionals

You know, they call you a professional musician or singer when you start to get paid for it.  We were getting paid a small amount to appear in Knoxville on the Mid-Day Merry-Go-Round at the Saturday night barn dance, for WNOX in Knoxville.

We played a Kentucky date, sometime in 1946.  It was kinda like our Alabama home.  Didn’t have any electricity – just (oil/kerosene) lamps.  It was pretty chilly.  They had a pot-bellied heater in the building we played in.

Swinging Bridge in Kentucky with Coal Miners' Children Crossing

We went across one of those, … what cha call it – a swingin’ bridge.   You couldn’t get to the school with an automobile.  You had to park out across the road and walk across this bridge to the school.

We got in there and sang.  Those people were quieter than a church mouse while we were singin’.

So, we finished up there and packed up to leave.  We was goin’ back ‘cross that swingin’ bridge. Then, meetin’ us at the end, comin’ from the other direction were about a half a dozen coal miners.   They still had the coal dust on their face.  Only thing ya could see was a ring around their eyes and their mouths.

They said, “Is it over?”  Ira said, “Yeah. Yeah. We’re finished.”

Kentucky Coal Miners

You could just tell that you might not get across that bridge with your instruments whole, cuz they might stomp on ‘em for ya.

“You know, well, we’d like to hear a couple, three songs.  We’d be glad to pay ya, but we’d like to hear a couple, three songs.”

So, we just laid ‘em down on the ground, took ‘em out of the case, and asked, “What would you like to hear?”

They named the songs that they wanted to hear, and we sung ‘em.  I don’t believe it was more than three songs.  Again, they offered to pay us, but we said, “Naw, that’s just part of the show.”

They left and then we left.

WWII & Korea

RC) You served in WWI, briefly, didn’t you?

Mr. Louvin:

Charlie Monroe Souvenir Song Book

I got out of the Army Air Force in the later part of 1946. When I got out, Ira was singin’ bass and playin’ the mandolin for Charlie Monroe.

He had a versatile voice.  He could sing Ernest Tubb or Kitty Wells, either one.

So, he quit Charlie, and that’s when we starting singin’ as a duet again.
We were in Knoxville, then.

I was drafted for the Korean War out of Memphis in 1952. Well, I actually got to go over there that time.  Nothin’ happened the first time I was in the military, except trainin’.

Charlie Louvin in Uniform, WWII

I joined the air force in WWII and they made me an auto mechanic!  You never get what you want, you know.

After that, we stayed in Knoxville for awhile.

One day, Ira says to me, “The Monroe Brothers, The Blue Sky Boys, everybody has a lead instrument and then this flat top six string.” He said, “Your gonna have to learn to play the guitar. I’ll show you what chords I know. And you’ll just have to learn the rest of ‘em. I’m gonna get me a mandolin, and that’s the way we’re goin’.”

Anyway, that’s the instrumentation that most duets have. One of the partners will have to play the lead instrument to kick the songs off and turn ‘em around, and stuff like that.

Ira’s Temper

Louvin Brothers

Ira had a hellish temper. If his mandolin got out of tune he’d lose his temper. This started early on in our career.

One day we was doin’ the Mid-Day Merry-Go-Round. Ira’s mandolin got outta tune, and he slung it against the backdrop of the stage, and then he went back there and stomped it.

Lowell Blanchard, the boss, called us in, and told us that he didn’t go for stuff like that, and if it ever happened again, he said, “You don’t have to come see me. You can just go on out that front door.”

Lowell Blanchard

Well, I knew that it WOULD happen again. So, we started huntin’ for another place.

We went from Knoxville to Greensboro, NC.  Didn’t do too well there.  If it weren’t for my wife, Betty, havin’ a job, we’d have starved to death. We didn’t stay there very long.

A man named Glen Thompson, who lived in Danville, VA, came to our show and offered us a weekly paid job, about $50 each.  So, we went to work for him for a year or so.

Peaked in 1947

Ira Louvin, Smilin' Eddie Hill, Charlie Louvin

One morning, we met Smilin’ Eddie Hill, who was good for us, not necessarily good to us, but, definitely, good for us.

Smilin' Eddie Hill (HillbillyMusic.com)

He offered us a job that he didn’t even have yet.  He’d gone to Memphis, and convinced them people that he had the best duet in the business and the best band in the business.  He had nothin’, but just talk.

So, only after that did he ask us if we’d come down, … and we did.  And the Louvin Brothers were, I suppose, were the hottest that we ever were when we were in Memphis.  That was 1947.

Eddie stayed there until ’51.  Then Eddie left to come to Nashville, to be a disk jockey – on WSM.  He was the first one that started that all night show on WSM.  So, it kinda interrupted us.

Brief Sag in Momentum in 1951

Then later, we wasn’t doin’ much, music-wise.  I went to barber college, on the government. Ira had moved to Knoxville, where his wife was from.

Post Office Seal Prior to USPS

We were livin’ in Memphis, and I was workin’ at the Post Office.  I asked the Postmaster what would be the chances were of Ira gettin a job at the Post Office.  It was a pretty good payin’ job. He said, “Bring ‘em down.  We’ll make him a postal clerk.”

Ira didn’t have a phone.  So, we drove up to Knoxville, which totaled up to be about 390 miles, one way.  He was workin’ at Cas Walker’s grocery.  He came on back to Memphis with us, and went to work at the post office with me.

RC) Well, what were you doin’ at the post office?

Mr. Louvin:

I was a postal clerk – part time – then I got up to the point where I was runnin’ one of the neighborhood post offices, called the “Hollywood” neighborhood there.

RC) Sounds like you could deliver a man’s mail, fix his car, give him a hair cut, and sing him a song, all at the same time.

Mr. Louvin:

Heh heh. Well, you need a lot of things in life.  You can never center on just one thing, too much.

RC) Did you started doin’ the Grand Ole’ Opry when you got back from the Korean War?

Mr. Louvin:

No.  I got back from the Korean War – I believe you had 30 days to go back to the job you had before.

When I got back, Ira was still workin’ at the Post Office, but Ira couldn’t pass the multiple question thing.  So he was still a temporary clerk.  I found it very easy, myself.  Just common sense would give ya the right answer.  So, I had become a certified civil employee when I got back from Korea.

Birmingham – Almost Ready to Give Up

Ira wanted to go to Birmingham, of all places, … said we could get sponsor money there, like $100 per week.  We didn’t think about the fact that we’d have to hire two musicians to go on the road with us.  So, there went the $100.00 right there.

Birmingham, Alabama

We didn’t do well in Birmingham, cuz uh, there was a duet there, Rebe and Rabe, the Gosdin Brothers – one of ‘em was Vern Gosdin’s first cousin.

And they sang nothin’ but Louvin Brother’s songs.  And they was on the same radio station we was on.  And if we had a Capital release at 10 o’clock in the mornin’, they’d listen to it and put it on their 12 o’clock show.

So, when we got there and started singin’, they thought we were impersonating Rebe and Rabe.  And they just burn’dt the country up, and we didn’t do well at all.

RC) Did you get any royalties from their performing your music?

Mr. Louvin:

That was before that was in place.  BMI started in 1945, and we got BMI.  So, if the radio station played it, you got royalties, but if someone sang it live, no one kept up with it back then.

RC) When Rebe and Rabe were singing your songs, did they ever make records with your songs?

Mr. Louvin:

Nah.  They never was on records, but just doing ‘em in person on a 50,000 watt station – well listened to station – you could work a 100 mile radius around Birmingham with that one station.

RC) What happened next?

Mr. Louvin:

Then, things just got way down, completely on the bottom.  We talked about quittin’.

Ken Nelson

We’d auditioned no less than a half-a-dozen times for the Grand Ole’ Opry … to Jim Denny.  We thought he was the boss, but it turned out that he was just a stage manager.

Blackwood Brothers 1955

So, we decided we was goin’ to quit if we couldn’t get on the Opry, and I said, “Well, let me call Ken Nelson.”  He was our A&R man, and our gospel music was seemingly going good – makin’ the label money, and we was getting a few little checks here and there.

Finally Booked at the Grand Ole’ Opry

Jack Stapp

Ozark Jubilee Ticket

That was on a Tuesday.  So, Ira and I rode a bus to Nashville from Birmingham. My wife went back to Memphis where her folks lived, and Ira’s wife went back to Knoxville.

So, we got there, and we met everybody up at WSM.  That’s when they was back up at 7th and Union in the National Life Accident and Insurance building.  That’s where they did the Friday shows.  Saturdays was at the the Ryman.

Ryman Auditorium

So we met everybody.  Then it came time for us to meet Jim Denny, and, of course, we’d already auditioned for him half-a-dozen times.

We went in and sat, and he’d say to his secretary, “Get me Webb Pierce.”  He’d talk to Web a few minutes.  Then he’d say, “Get me Carl Smith.” He’d talk to him.  “Get me Minnie Pearl.”

Jim Denny

Exit Stage Left, Denny and Stapp

Carl Smith

You know Denny ran a publishing company.  If you didn’t record Cedarwoods songs (that was his company), then you didn’t get no dates.

So, it took about a year after we was there – They told him and Jack Stapp – Jack Stapp owned the Tree publishing company, and Denny owned the Cedarwoods, and they informed both of ‘em that they had to divest themselves of their publishing companies or get fired.

Webb Pierce

Well, Jack immediately quit because he knew where the money was.  Denny said he didn’t believe they’d fire him. So, he refused to quit. So, they did fire him.

Minnie Pearl (Sarah Ophelia Colley)

Little Jimmy Dickens

Gotta Do Some Secular

Later that year, we talked Capital Records into allowing us to do something other than gospel music.  We never quit recording gospel music but we wanted to add secular music.

RC) I read that someone had said something to you along the lines that you couldn’t sell cigarettes with gospel music, if I recall.

Mr. Louvin:

Yeah. Yeah, they had the Prince Albert Grand Ole’ Opry, which was a network show.  They said, “Two gospel songs in a 30 minutes show is all we want.  After all, we’re sellin’ tobacco, you know.”

We were lucky enough a couple of times to get on that show.  We could only sing one gospel song, because the person that was MC’in would sing one of the two.

So, we finally convinced Ken Nelson that we were serious, and our first secular song was “When I Stop Dreamin“ It did extremely well.  It changed the world for the Louvin Brothers.  We had a dozen songs in the top 5 after that.

Alcohol – Ira’s (and the Louvin Brothers’) Undoing

We were doing quite well.  Then Elvis came along.  That hurt country music a lot – it changed all music.  Then, that made my brother drink more.

Finally, in ’63, it got … I just didn’t know how to deal with a drinker, and still don’t today.

If someone came to the Louvin Brothers and said, “When you go to this particular date, you’d better do a good one, because so-and-so is going to be there, and this booker’s going to be there,”  … just as sure as they said that, Ira would drink, and it would turn out to be the worst show we’d ever done.

Then the news got around.  First thing ya know, one promoter would tell another promoter, “If you want to BUY problems, get the Louvin Brothers.”

You know, I don’t know if you have a brother or not, but if you’re in the music business, and you’re a brother team, both of ya gets judged by what either one of you does.  So, it was the Louvin Brothers that was undependable.

It hurt money-wise, and date-wise.  I knew that someone had to leave.  I’ll take credit for that.

Ray Price

I was told 100 times (by Ira), “When we get back off of this trip, I’m out of this rotten business.”  So, finally, on Aug. 18th, 1963, we did a show with Ray Price in Watseka, IL.  He started in talkin’ about quitin’.

And I said, “Well, you’re right.  I’ve never said this (myself), but I’ve heard it (from you) 1000′s of times.  But you’re right.  We’ve just worked the last date we’ll ever work together, because I’m quitting.”  And I did.

The wife and I took my mom and dad to Florida when we got back off of that trip.  We stayed about a week in Florida (they’d never seen Florida).

So, we brought them back home, and we came on back to Nashville.   Then, on a Friday evening, Ira called the house, and said, “What are ya doin’?”  … just as jolly as ever.

I said, “I’m gettin’ ready to go to the Friday night Opry.”

He said, “What time are we on?”

I said, “We’re not on.  I’m on at 8 o’clock, but we are not on.  You remember our last conversation comin’ home?  You said you was quitting, and I said, “You’re right.  We are quitting.”

Ira said, “Awe, you know that was just that old liquor talkin’.”

I said, “Yeah, but in the past 2 or 3 years that’s all I’ve heard, has been the liquor talkin’.”

So, that was that.  It never came to the point where you’d fight on stage, but the tension was more than you would want to put up with.

Ira’s Last Days

RC) Did you ever get to mend the relationship outside of performing?

Mr. Louvin:

He came to the Opry one night.  I was still on, but he’d cussed the booker out, the Opry, Capital records, and anyone connected with the Louvin Brothers.

Monroe’s 1923 Gibson F-5 Loar Mandolin

Well, Bill Monroe wouldn’t let nobody even touch his mandolin.  If you wanted to see that mandolin, he’d hold it, turn it over and let you see the back of it, maybe, and that’s as close as you’d get to seein’ that mandolin.

But Ernest Tubb said (and, of course, Monroe was standin’ close by), “Why don’t you boys come over?”  Earnest was a get-things-back-together man.

Bill Monroe

He said, “Why don’t you come over and do a couple of songs on the midnight jamboree at the record shop?”

And Ira says, “I ain’t got no mandolin.”  And Bill Monroe stepped up and said, “You can use mine.”

Ira and Monroe was pretty good friends.

And so we did.  We went over and did those two songs.

Then we went down to Line Boss, which was a restaurant about 2 to 3 doors from the Ernest Tubb’s record shop on Broadway.

We went down, and Ira carried the mandolin back, and I went with him.

Him and Monroe was talkin’, and Monroe told him what songs he’d like to have Ira sing at his funeral.  Then Ira kinda laughed, and says, “Well this is what I want you to sing at mine.”

Jordanaires in the Early 1960s

Well, when Ira got killed, Monroe was in the Northeast on tour, and he packed it up and came home.   And, he did what Ira had asked him to do, but unfortunately, no one had a tape recorder in the room.  So, it’s just history.

But he didn’t even have his mandolin with him.  He had the Jordanaires to back him, and Marvin Hughes to play the piano.   And Monroe never sounded better in his life, … but, sadly, there’s no record of it.

It was a real bad time.

RC) Well, Mr. Louvin, it sounds like you had just a little bit of a reconciliation with Ira, there at the end.

Mr. Louvin:

Well, I think that he was getting his ducks in a row.  That’s what he needed to do, real bad.

My daddy gave Ira two acres off of the old home place, and Ira got Jim Walters to build him a house on that.

He (Ira) had told his mother that when he got back from Kansas City, he was gettin’ a tent and would start preachin’.

Tragedy in Williamsburg, Missouri

He was told by thousands of people that whiskey was gonna kill him, and anyway you look at it, eventually, it did.

The two people driving the other way were going to Kansas City.  The car Ira was in was leavin’ Kansas City.  At about the 1/2 way mark between Kansas City and St. Louis is a place called Kingdom City, and the little town of Williamsburg is right there.  That’s where the wreck happened.

No doubt, the Good Lord, knew whether he (Ira) would do what he said he’d do (had said to his mama) or not, but He (the Lord) just took him.

RC) Were there other fatalities involved?

Mr. Louvin:

Tragic Wreck Killed All, Including Ira Louvin

Everybody.  The two folks drivin’ the other car, accordin’ to Missouri law were 9 times drunk.

The other gentlemen drivin’ the car that Ira was in, Mr. Barksdale (it was his car), Barksdale’s wife, and Ira’s wife was all in the car.  Everybody got killed.

But, yes. We had worked one more show together just before he died, because Ira wasn’t doing well financially.  I went to Ider, Alabama, about 5 miles from where I was raised.  He and I did a regular show there.  I just did it to give him all the money. That was the last time we were on the stage together.

Other Memories

From Paul Yandell to Jimmy Capps

Chet Atkins

We first had a guitarist named Paul Yandell who was a Chet Atkins worshipper.

When we first got the Opry, you know, Chet had cut all our gospel songs, and he’s the one who played the guitar for “When I Stopped Dreamin’”.

But when he got the executive job with RCA, he didn’t have time to cut sessions for just anybody.  He had about a dozen artists that he was responsible for – so all his time was eat up with that.

So, we found, with the help of a disk jockey from Mayfield, Kentucky, we found Paul Yandell.  Paul worked for us for about 3 years then the draft got him.

Paul Yandell Album Cover

He decided he would replace himself.  He’d find his own replacement.  So, there was two guys in North Carolina who played all Louvin Brothers music, and they had a guitar player named Jimmy Capps.

So, he contacted Jimmy and said if you’ll be at a certain place on a certain night, the Louvin Brothers are going to do a show there, and I’ll get you an audition, and maybe you’ll get the job.

Jimmy Capps was a straight pick man.  He now works straight pick, and with his fingers, he can make it sound like he’s a thumb style picker.

Anyway, Jim was there.  After the show was over, he lugged his amplifier up to the hotel room, and his guitar.  He set everything up, tuned his guitar.  Everyone was just sitting there.

Jimmy Capps

Paul Yandell’s “cuss” word was “by devil.”  So, he said, “Well, by devil, Jimmy, pick one!”

Jimmy said, “Well, what do you want me to pick.”

Paul said, “Well, uh, Malagueña.”

That was an instrumental that Chet Atkins had out.  Jim kinda looked funny, and he said “You know Paul.  I’ve heard that.  I’ve heard that, but I’ve never tried to play it.”

You could just see the disappointment on Yandell’s face.  You know, like, I got a guy up here who can’t even pick.

And another minute or two passed by with a very uncomfortable silence, and I finally said, “Oh, it’s OK, Jim.  You don’t need to play Malagueña.  Ira and I hardly ever sing that song anyway.”

It became funny, and Capps turned out to be one of the best pickers, as far as I’m concerned, that ever picked up a guitar.  He’s still a member of (or the head of) the Opry staff band.

Opry’s Band Limitations

The Opry has disbanded almost everyone except the guest artists.

I’ve only done one song per show on the Opry since they disbanded.  They have me doing about 1 show per month.  Last year, I only did 10 songs.  I could keep up with that by how much I made off the Opry.

In fact this Saturday night, I’ll be working with Jimmy Capps, because I can only use two people on the Opry.

I used to have a full band, only 4 people, that worked the road with me, and I used them for years and years.  Then about 6 years ago, the Opry manager, Hal Durham, said that I could only use two people.  That was because of a lot of the songs that I do requires harmony.  So, I used those two people to put the harmony with the songs.

For the other part of the band, I used the Opry staff band, which are very good musicians.

It’s hard to keep a band now.  If you can’t use them on the Opry, and if you’re not working the road, then there’s all but two of your men settin’ idle.

I use my bass player, and my son (Sonny) plays flat top.  He’s a good electric player, too, but he doesn’t play country.  He plays jazz and rock.  With country you gotta play melodies.

The Opry sifts it out with the union.  The first evening they work, the staff band gets paid what the normal incoming band gets paid.  All subsequent performances are for half that.

It starts out around $90 for the show for first time around.  Later, it’s only $40 or $45.

By them adding 4 people, they save at least $200 on musicians.  It’s just a money thing.  It’s not that they don’t like your band, and that’s why we’ve got ‘em, to back everyone.

RC) And you’re a regular, not a visiting guest

Mr. Louvin:

Regular right – been there a little over 55 years

The good thing about the Opry is that you don’t have to pack up and move.

There are no clear channel radio stations left in the US.  The Opry is on 65, and I doubt if there are less that 10 or 15 in the US that are exactly on 65.

Country Life VS Country Music – Packaged Shows

RC) What life events took you out of the country into larger cities?  Your childhood was in the country, but it seems show business makes it hard to actually continue living in the settings that inspire the music.

Mr. Louvin:

Red Foley

In the early years we were in small, rural areas … before “packaged shows”, which started in ’56 and ’57.  One of the tours we went on had Red Foley, and Webb Pierce, Red Sovine, and a girl singer, maybe Wanda Jackson, and the Louvin Brothers.  That’s called a package show.

They did so many of those that it made it very hard for a single act to work the large venues, you know.

We did many, even hundreds of shows, just with a mandolin and a guitar, and a Bogen sound system.

Wanda Jackson

The only thing you didn’t buckle up with the Bogen was the mic stand.  It had what is considered the head, and two separated … the top separated, and each side was a speaker.  So, it was about 24 inches square, maybe 30 inches high when it was put back together.

Red Sovine Album Cover

We would do 2-hour shows, just the two of us.  At one time Ira and I could do over 1000 songs and not ever look at a piece of paper.

I still remember almost all the Louvin Brother songs, at least the melodies.  I don’t lose the melodies, but I don’t remember all the words to all of them.  My hard drive, I guess, in my head, is full.  It won’t hold anymore.

Shenanigans on the Road

RC) Heh heh.  So, tell me.  Can you think of the funniest thing that ever happened to you.

Mr. Louvin:

Ira and I had a few fisticuffs – I’m only 5 and 1/2 and he was 6 foot.  He was just so gawky that before he’d could even get in the fight, it was over.  So, we’re comin up the road (we had several of those).  I was drivin’ and Jimmy Capps was ridin’ in the front seat.  Ira had been sleepin’ in the back seat.

Ira setup in the back seat and said, “Pull it over!  Pull it over!”

And we’re out in the middle of corn fields, you know.  And I said, “We’re in the middle of nothin’ here.  What? Do you want to use the bathroom?”

And he said, “No.  No, I don’t want to use bathroom.  I have just figured out a way to whip your ass.”

I just kept drivin’.  Jimmy got tickled.  Then, I got tickled.  Then, a few minutes later, Ira got to laughin’, too, and I never did find out what he’d figured out.  It was never mentioned again.

But if you ask Jimmy Capps what was the funniest thing to ever happen while he was with the Louvin Brothers, which was a long time, he’d probably mention that incident.

RC) So, knowing that your brother now had a secret weapon, did you ever have another fight? ;o)

Mr. Louvin:

<<Laugh>>  Nah.

Loudermilk to Louvin

RC) I know this is a question you’ve probably been asked more often than you’d like, but, you were born Charles Loudermilk.  What made you boys change your names to Louvin?

Mr. Louvin:

Yeah, too many times, but …

RC) I’m sorry.  We can skip that one.

Mr. Louvin:

Nah.  That’s alright.  We were born Loudermilk, but at school, I always kept a scab on my nose and a few other places from being called clabber milk, butter milk, sour milk, and, uh, that would start a fight every time.   I lost several, and I won a few.

But, when we got in the music business it seemed like no one could say, let alone spell Loudermilk.  It’s the simplest name in the world.  If you could holler “louder” and put “milk” on the end of it, you had it.

But, anyway, we thought, well, everyone else is takin’ stage names.  So, we took the first 3 letters of our real name, “Lou”, and put a “vin” on it.  The “Vin” wasn’t significant or nothin’.  I really don’t know where the name came from, originally.

RC) You actually changed your name legally eventually didn’t ya.

Mr. Louvin:

Yeah we went to court and had it changed, because the publishers said somebody might show up and say their name was Louvin and take all the songs you got.  If you’re gonna use that name you ought ta make it legal.

RC) If you don’t mind me askin’, Were your parents still alive?  Did it bother ‘em a little that you changed your last name?

Mr. Louvin: Well it probably did bother them some.

RC) Well, I guess that’s just somethin’ most folks in show business have to deal with.

Mr. Louvin:

1950

Well, my daddy would go into a cafe, there, when Ira and I was pretty hot.  He’d go over to the jukebox, and drop a quarter in, play a couple of Louvin Brother songs, and he’d say to the people in the restaurant, “They’re my boys, ya know.”  And the people in the restaurant would say (disbelieving), “Yeah.  We know.  They’re our boys, too.”

Yeah. So, I’m sure it didn’t do him any good, but I think he understood.

Long Life

My daddy left in 1983.  He was 84 years old, when he passed away. My mother lived until she was 96 years old.

RC) Well, that portends well for you.

Mr. Louvin:

Well my grandmaw on my daddy’s side, she lived to be 106.

RC) Wow!  Well, I hope you’re with us that long!

Mr. Louvin:

Although, I’m 82 now (since last July), I really hope I can make 100.

RC) Well, you seem to be as sharp as any 65 year old.

Mr. Louvin:

Well, as long as I know my friends, can feed and dress myself.  Then, that’s livin’.

When you get to where you can’t remember your friends, and start to depend on others to take care of ya – that’s not livin’.

Thank You!

RC) <<lots of thanks>> You’ve been a huge blessing to us, Mr. Louvin.

Mr. Louvin:

When it comes to blessings, I’ve been blessed in several different ways.  I’ve got the same little girl that I married in September 18th, 1949, 60 years, and I’m healthy.

– End

This post was submitted by Charlie Louvin.