Singer’s Story

By: David Divers
(© 2008-2009 by the author)
Edited by: Madison Cole

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 10
Soaring Like a Rocket

Friday was a joyful day, just from anticipating our opportunity to appear on the Opry. We also visited several recording studios to see their facilities. One of the best was originally located in an old barn but now had a modern building and housed state of the art equipment inside. All of the most famous early country stars and gospel groups had recorded there. The studio was fully booked for months in advance, but they recommended a new studio that had just opened down the road from there. It was owned by one of the newest electronic corporations and everything there was strictly top drawer. The Barn manager called ahead for us and we went over and met the management. It was available and expensive, but money was not a problem with our corporate set up and the terms of our contracts. Everything would be co-financed by the label. The studio also had an arrangement with an apartment hotel located right next door where we could stay during our sessions. We had originally planned to stay at our present hotel but decided that we would get a suite of rooms there for the next week. After dinner, we went back to our hotel and sang and jammed until almost midnight.

Chris and I spent the entire night together. Daddy and the family were expected to arrive about noon on Saturday. Then we would all drive out to the Opry in the new coach. Afterward they would drop us off and they would go on home to the hollow. Since we had hired a driver, Daddy didn’t have to worry about the return trip.

Chris and I would move to the new place on Sunday and would begin work at the studio on Monday morning. I had to be back at the hollow on Thursday night so that I could leave with the family to start a two week road tour on that coming Friday. We would first be going on a short swing through the South, and then we would be home for a few days, and finally back out to the west coast as planned.

It had been two weeks since the family came off the road, so we would be somewhat rusty on our trademark Stone Family harmony and music. For an important show like this, we had to be at our absolute best, so we would practice our songs on the coach. Chris would also be with us, and he and I would practice two songs: “Battleground,” as well as another one we would decide on in the afternoon.

Saturday, the family picked us up at the hotel and, after stopping for lunch, we rolled into the main Opryland parking lot about four in the afternoon. We identified ourselves to the security guards, and after we were verified, we were admitted into the artist’s bus compound where we were hooked up to the utilities by some uniformed attendants.

Daddy had just taken delivery of our new custom coach. I say “our” because each of us in the corporate family was now an equal partner in The Stone Family Music, Inc. As partners, we were each now almost $200,000 in debt for the coach. It had cost almost $1,000,000 by the time it was delivered. It was only days old and I had never seen it.

It was the same bright red metallic color just like our older Silver Eagle had been, but this one was a big MCI Entertainer and had a black stylized Stone Family logo down both sides and the back. It was eight feet longer than the old one which gave us more options for a family of our size. The standard factory design would have had all the amenities of the old leased bus, plus six double-decker bunk spaces, three on each side of a center aisle. Daddy had it custom made with the aisle down the side behind the driver. Instead of the six double-decker bunks, he had them make five wider and longer, double sized mini-cabins, plus his and Mamma’s bigger one. The first mini was for the driver when he was aboard and each of us kids had been allowed to have a say in decorating our own rooms—after all, we were all paying for it. The cabins were as sound proof as possible and we each had lots of electronics for independent entertainment. The extra space where the sixth double bunk would have been was opened up to enlarge the lounge and galley areas. There wasn’t a finer coach anywhere for a nomadic family like ours.

Electronically the coach had a built-in, customized BOSE professional sound system so we could practice our music with pre-recorded accompaniment tapes without breaking out the instruments. We rehearsed several songs for the Opry show using those pre-recorded tapes. Then Chris and I took out our acoustics and practiced our own songs. We decided that we would do “Ripples” for our second “if” number, because it was still at #4 on the gospel music charts and it had gone over so well when we had done it together in Biloxi.

At 5:30, the family went backstage and the core group for the house band was jamming, so we asked them if they would let us run through our song. They were the elite of Nashville session musicians. Member artists always used their own road bands when they appeared, but the house band was always playing in the background to augment the sound. Since we were guests, we would use the house band.

As soon as we sang a verse and a chorus, the house band had it memorized and the whole thing orchestrated before we knew what was happening. Then the leader said, “Let us kick it off like this …”—and they did an intro twice as good as what we could have done. Although Daddy had written the song and we had been playing it for several years, they gave it a country flavor we could never match. (In the future we did try to imitate it, however.) Then they had us run through a second song just in case we were asked to stay over for an encore. Daddy had picked, “I Surrender,” a song I sang lead on because it was still climbing the charts at #18.

As an aside, my Daddy and I were very close—we still are. Because of my “ballsy,” outgoing personality and talent, he was clearly grooming me to eventually take over and be the onstage front “man” of the Family group. He could have sung the lead parts just as well as I could. But he chose not to.

Over the years I gave him plenty of reason to regret his decision and demote me back into the “pack.” Despite my independent nature, I was very easy to control—all Daddy had to do to discipline me was to sing the lead parts himself and only allow me to sing harmony for a show or two. It made little difference in the family sound, but it was embarrassing for me in front of the family. I would have been happier if he had just beaten me with a stick!

From my story so far, you might think that sex was the only reason that I wanted to get away for awhile and sing with Chris. That was certainly one reason, but it wasn’t my primary motivation. Although I couldn’t explain it at that point in my life, I have since come to realize that there was a lot more to it all than just sex.

At heart my Daddy was an evangelist preacher who also could sing, not a singer who could also preach. When we sang harmony together, it was like singing with a saint. I don’t want anyone to think that I wasn’t a committed Christian, but I know that I had feet of clay. I could never measure up to the standards my Daddy set. He actually lived the life you saw on stage or from the pulpit. I, on the other hand was young, talented, handsome and gay(ish). The gay part did not define who I was, but in my “heart of hearts,” I could not deny it was a part of me. Therefore, the harmony I had with Chris sort of fulfilled that gay part by allowing me to “come out” emotionally, something that I could really not do by singing with my family.

After the family rehearsal, it was time for Chris and me to practice. I showed the band the chord pattern of both “Battlefield” and “Ripples.” We went over it with them. Again they dressed up the intro with steel guitar and lead. Chris asked about their session schedules and we asked them to pencil us in for our sessions as they were available in the next week. We would be laying down individual tracks and it didn’t really matter when they would do theirs as long as it was within the week.

After we got set up, we all had such a bad case of butterflies that nobody wanted to eat—this was just too important an appearance for us. The family, Chris, and I just stood around backstage with the mixture of “civilians” and other performers. I was so young and stood out in contrast to the rest of the group, and nobody seemed to know what to make of me. Daddy and the rest of the family were all dressed alike in tan outfits. I had on white, because Chris and I were wearing going to wear matching western-cut suits but in white and black, the opposite of our complexions.

Daddy was known to some of the civilians from his evangelism and revival days, and Chris was an established star on the gospel circuit. Many of them probably had seen him on one award show or another, but they still couldn’t quite place him. Some came up and talked to him, but I just stood there and focused on the music that was being played.

Just prior to the show, the “Country Music Queen” who hosted the first segment came over to us and wanted some recent background information. She had been an established star for more than twenty years and had relocated to Nashville years ago, but she was a good ole country girl at heart. We knew that she originally came from middle Tennessee near where Daddy’s home church used to be. She knew exactly where the hollow was, so it was like old home week. With that connection, she promised to do her best to make sure we were welcomed and comfortable on stage.

She kicked off her segment with a medley of her own hits and then sang her latest recording. As she finished up, she motioned us on stage and announced, “I am proud to present some folks that just rode into town on a turnip truck from my home town in middle Tennessee. Let’s give a big Opry welcome to those gospel music greats, ‘The Stone Family’...”

The mikes were already set up for us, and we hit our marks just the band kicked off our song, “Troubled Times.” Daddy and Mamma sang the lead and the ‘young’uns’ sang backup. When we finished, the applause and cheering was tremendous. There were people with their hands in the air, just like it would be at an old time revival. The cheering continued until the hostess waved them off and said, “I would like to have asked them to do an encore of that song, but their son, Billy Ray, and the Family have a song on the charts that I want y'all to hear!”

With that, the band kicked off the intro to “I Surrender.” I sang it like I had been on the Opry all my life—I guess all those years of playing churches and one night stands had been worth it. Daddy and the family joined me on the choruses. Afterward, from the main floor to the balcony, people stood applauding and cheering … so the band kicked back in for an encore chorus. As the chorus part came to a close, I said, “I hope y'all remember these good feelings inside when you get to church tomorrow morning … Thank you, and good night.”

The place came apart with cheers and applause. After it died down, the segment host announced that Billy Ray was going to appear on the next part of the show with his friend, Chris Baker, and the applause started up again.

As we came off stage, the crowd then knew what to make of us. They all wanted to talk and congratulate us. We couldn’t have bought for any amount of money the kind of exposure we received from that first live radio appearance on the Opry. Chris was also waiting to congratulate us, and he and I wandered around backstage for awhile.

There were many open dressing room doors that were overflowing with people. The stars basically hold open house on Opry nights. As we passed, several people invited us in the meet the various stars. They were all very gracious and said how great the family was, and so on. After two years on the road and eight years of straight evangelism, The Stone Family was “suddenly” an overnight sensation!

I reveled in the attention, but I was also anxious to have some time together with Chris and just talk. I finally told Daddy that we were going to relax on the bus while we waited for the next segment. When we entered, the driver left to go talk to the other drivers. We lounged around and Chris quietly said, “From here on out, you will be the star that I predicted you would be last year in Baton Rouge. Nothing can stop you now except your own self, Billy Ray. You are a real professional, and I just hope you are ready for it. I would hope that I can be a part of it, but no matter what, we have to keep our relationship in perspective. We can have great times together, but we also have to live two separate lives. It can never be more that that.”

Sadly, I acknowledged what he said, “That will be the worst part of it all, being famous, but also being so alone …”

Chris said, “With your talent and looks, you will have a million opportunities not to be alone. In the future you will welcome every second that you can just get away by yourself. You remember how it was on that coliseum floor in Biloxi? That was just a taste of what your life is going to become if you let it.”

When we went inside, Billy Holder was just leaving his dressing room with his entourage. He motioned us over and he grabbed and hugged us around the neck like long lost brothers. He waved away his friends and we talked about our background. He had read our interview questions and said he was going to use the name “the Pied Pipers of Biloxi.” As show time approached, he gave us more encouragement and then went on and performed his first two numbers. Then he announced, “I was on the Record Shop show last Thursday night and heard these next two boys do a song you just gotta hear. It has not even been recorded yet, but I just had to invite them on as my special guests. Young as they are, they have both had gospel hits, but I have a feeling this song is going to become a country favorite as well. Let’s give a big Opry welcome to Chris Baker and Billy Ray Stone, the ‘Pied Pipers of Biloxi.’”

Our intro began playing and we came on to roaring applause. We sang the roof off the place! Billy had us repeat the whole song instead of just doing an encore. Unfortunately, there was not enough time left in the segment for us to do “Ripples.” As the segment ended for a commercial, Billy walked us off stage and told us to keep in touch because he wanted us back on his part of the show anytime we were in the area.

Backstage was a mess. We were mobbed by well wishers and family. My Daddy and Mamma were gushing with pride—my two brothers less so. Although they slapped me on the back and gave lip service to Chris and me with, “Way to go!” and other teen praises, I could sense an undercurrent of mockery behind their words of congratulations.

Despite their shyness, both were good singers in their own right and they could have easily been in my place. Maybe they still would be in the future. Whether they did or not, we would all share equally in the family’s future—even if it was only in the background.

Financially, they were equal partners in the family business. But as young teens they were not concerned about the money. One was fourteen, a year younger than me, and the other was thirteen. It may have been simply sibling rivalry, but even as closely as we had been raised, our relationship was never the same after that night. It may have been my imagination, but at that point, they started to resent my personal recognition.

As we walked backstage, Billy brought a man over and introduced him as his personal manager. As Billy turned to go back on stage, the man took us into Billy’s dressing room and sat us both down. He said, “I know you boys are excited and tired, but I have to say that both of you have a great future in the business. Either one of you can be a star in country music or any other field of music you choose. You can be a single, duo, or a group, but there’s no doubt in my mind that with proper management you could be filling up stadiums instead of playing the package shows. Billy Holder hasn’t had a real hit record in ten years, but I still get him $50,000 a show and he can only fill up a theater. With you, I figure within two years, I could get $300,000 for you in a stadium.”

He went on, “Country music is filled with ‘hats.’ There are only a few real stars. Most of them are nothing but New York’s corporate idea of ‘country.’ They take handsome boys and pretty girls and dress them in tight jeans and put a hat on them. They invent a persona just like professional wrestlers do. They groom them just like the boy bands are groomed. These singers have marginal talent, but they do look good in a cowboy hat. It doesn’t hurt for the boys to have a big bulge in their jeans or the girls to have big tits, either. They could be from New York City, but they teach them all how to talk with a country twang, they give them a fake history and hometown, and call them ‘country.’ But I believe you boys are like Coca-Cola—the ‘real thing!’”

We talked some more, but Chris and I were both noncommittal. We took the manager’s business card and private phone number, and we told him politely that we would think about all he had said to us. He assured us that this was a personal management proposal and would in no way intrude upon our present recording or management contracts. It was a lot to think about …

To be continued...

Posted: 08/14/09