Loretta Lynn_ Coal Miner's Daughter - Loretta Lynn [46]
I sang, “My Shoes Keep Walking Back to You.” And, you know what, I won the contest. The winner was supposed to be an amateur, which meant they didn’t give a money prize, just a wristwatch. I had a choice—men’s or women’s. I chose one for Doolittle, but it stopped the next day and I started crying and took it back to Buck. He explained the watch only cost a couple of dollars and he didn’t have the money to get it fixed. I didn’t complain. Poor Buck was as broke as we were. He couldn’t afford a coat and it was cold in Tacoma. He was nice to us, and I’m still his biggest fan. I’ll guarantee you, Buck made it the hard way and he deserves every good thing he gets.
One other lucky thing came out of that television show. It was broadcast up in Canada—Vancouver, British Columbia, where a man named Norm Burley heard me. He had been in the lumber business and was real wealthy. But he lost his wife and he was lonely. Doo and I were just like a couple of kids, and Norm Burley kind of adopted us. He said he wanted to help us by giving us a contract to make a record. He didn’t wear any red suit or black boots, but that man sure looked like Santa Claus to us.
13
An Honest-to-Goodness Record
Ever since you left me, I’ve done nothing but wrong.
Many nights I’ve laid awake and cried.
We once were happy, my heart was in a whirl,
But now I’m a honky tonk girl.…
—“I’m a Honky Tonk Girl,” by Loretta Lynn
Mr. Burley wanted to help but he didn’t know any more about the recording business than we did. He left it up to us what song we would record. I’d written this song called, “Honky Tonk Girl.” It was mostly about a girl I used to see in Bill’s Tavern drinking beer and crying. I don’t think she recognized that song was about her.
The way I started writing those songs, I went down to the candy store and bought a copy of Country Song Roundup, the magazine with the words to the hit songs. I figured it looked so simple in these books that, since everyone else was writing songs, I might as well, too. There was nothing to it, really. I’d think up a title first, then write some words, then pick out a tune on my little old rhythm guitar. Mr. Burley liked “Honky Tonk Girl,” and he gave us the money to take it to Los Angeles. That was the biggest city to go to on the West Coast to get a record made.
Me and Doo left the kids with my brother and his wife, and we drove down to Los Angeles. A couple of studios wouldn’t even let Doo past the front secretary, even though he had money from Mr. Burley. See, Mr. Burley had different companies, so it was no trick for him to start a new record company. We called it Zero Records. But none of us knew anything about the record business. There was one fellow named Don Grashey who had some business sense, and he ran the record company for Mr. Burley.
We didn’t have any studio or a band so we went to these studios in Los Angeles. I’d sit outside and wait for Doo to come out. Each time he’d get this sad look on his face and I figured, “we can’t even pay to get me on a record. Nobody will even take our money.” But then Doo went up to this studio where Speedy West worked. He was well known in country music. Somehow they agreed to let me make my record.
I went inside to this little studio about half the size of a motel room. But I saw these men and machines and a few musicians, and I got all scared. I still didn’t know about notes or anything, but I showed ’em the words and hummed the tune and they started to fiddle around. After I sang a few lines, Speedy West said, “Hey, let’s hold it up a few hours and get a few more pickers.”
What he did, really, was to get better pickers. He must of heard something he liked, because he brought in some good musicians from around town and they picked up on my song real well. By the end