Loretta Lynn_ Coal Miner's Daughter - Loretta Lynn [55]
I went over to the Opry and pestered Ott Devine, the manager, until he let me on the show. My first appearance was on October 15, 1960; the Opry paid guests fifteen dollars in those days, and we were sure glad to have the money.
I was nervous when they took me backstage. It was kind of crowded and informal, with all sorts of people hanging around. You’d see some picker you never heard of standing right next to some great star like Roy Acuff. It seemed disorganized, but it was a radio show and only the studio audience could see people milling around backstage. On the radio, it was the most exciting thing in the world to hear. In person, you’d see those people, how exhausted they were from driving all day. But they’d come alive if they liked you. I sang, “Honky Tonk Girl” and they really cheered me, and Ott Devine invited me back again.
Somebody hinted that when you went on the stage of the Grand Ole Opry you should wear high-heeled shoes and look a little more stylish. But I was used to low-heeled boots, and didn’t want to look too fancy.
Out of those first Opry appearances, I got an invitation to tour Alaska with Johnny Horton. Before I could, he was on his way back to Nashville when he got killed in a car wreck. Then they talked about matching me with Jim Reeves, but he, too, died before we got together.
Me and Doo realized that we needed good advice if we were going to make it. We decided to try the Wilburn Brothers, who were a big act in country music at that time. I met them once before when I asked for their autographs. Now I looked ’em up and asked what they could do for me.
Of course, I already had my first record on the charts and was on my way to being included in the “Most Promising Female Singer” category, so they didn’t have anything to do with that, or getting me on the Opry. Plus, I was already considered for a television show, which later turned out to be their show.
We sat around and talked for a few hours in their office. There were four brothers from Arkansas—Doyle, Teddy, Leslie, and Lester. I remember Doyle liked my voice, and Teddy thought I sounded like Kitty Wells. Doyle did most of the business, and Teddy was a songwriter. They also ran a talent agency.
They asked me if I was under contract to anybody else. I remember Mr. Burley had promised to let me out of the contract if I moved to Nashville. I called him and he said, “Go ahead and sign. I’m tearing up your contract with me.” He was a sweet old man and I think he was as happy as we were about the Wilburn deal.
That was the start of a relationship that brought me a lot of happiness—but ended in a lot of pain. I really got close to the Wilburns and their mother, I still call her “Mom” today. For a long time, they managed my career and were also my song publishers. But around 1970, I got the feeling they weren’t growing with me anymore. So I went out and formed my own company. There’s a big court case still going on, so my lawyers have told me I can’t make any comments about the Wilburns, or why I left them.
It isn’t easy for me to hold back on my feelings, but when your lawyer talks, you’d better listen. But I’ve got to say this much: the Wilburns were good for me, when I was getting started. In my house in Hurricane Mills, I’ve got a portrait of the Wilburns, where everybody can see it. If you’ll notice in my fan booklets and stuff, there is usually a picture of those two boys entitled simply “Doyle and Teddy.” You can’t ever go back to what used to be, but you can be honest and remember it.
Anyway, the way it started, Doyle and Teddy took me to their recording studio, called Sure-Fire, where I recorded a song called “Fool Number One.” They figured I might as well start at the top, so they took the “demo” record to Owen Bradley at Decca Records.
Owen Bradley is one of the biggest men in the business. He was just named to the Country Music Hall of Fame in 1974. He talks like an easygoing country man, but he’s been responsible