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John Bakos recent thread about the Conway Twitty Thunderbird albumn got me to thinking back about a column I wrote a few year's ago.
As some TBN'ers know, I retired as a newspaper executive and sometimes contributed columns to our newspapers. Here is one I wrote about Conway Twitty.
At the risk of boring y'all I thought I would post it here.
Bronzebird
Bringing back old Memories
I caught a piece of a song from the' 50s channel on XM radio the other night that brought back a flood of memories. The song was "It's Only Make Believe" from 1959. You trivia buffs out there know that this song was first recorded by Conway Twitty, but this story goes much deeper than that.
In the fall of 1958, I was living in my hometown of Hamilton, Ontario. Hamilton is just over the Canadian border about 60 miles north of Buffalo. I was dating a girl named Carole and on Thursday and Friday evenings we would drop into the Flamingo lounge to listen to the rock 'n' roll acts that appeared there. One of our favorites was a guy from Arkansas named Harold Jenkins, who played some guitar and had a growly voice that handled the late' 50s hits he covered pretty well. Between sets he would sit at our table, probably attracted more by Carole's blond good looks than by my stirring conversation.
Hal was just one of many singers from the United States who found their way to Canada in the 50’s. Promoters would book them into Southern Ontario towns, probably figuring if they could make it in those towns, they could have potential to go to the big time back home.
Interestingly enough, three Arkansas boys hit the Southern Ontario circuit about the same time. Ronnie Hawkins played the Cote d'Or in Toronto backed by a drummer named Levon Helm, and then there was Hal Jenkins. His curly hair and good looks were set off well in the beautiful turquoise '56 Oldsmobile convertible he drove.
In the spring of 1959, Jenkins returned to Canada for another booking, but things had changed a lot. He had just cut a record titled "It's Only Make Believe" and it was climbing the charts. He also had a new name. We still called him Hal, but the poster out front of the lounge said he was Conway Twitty.
"The promoters told me," he said, "that Harold Jenkins wasn't a strong enough name for a performer. So, I took the road Atlas and plunked my thumb and forefinger down on two towns. One was Conway, Arkansas, and the other was Twitty, Texas."
Now whether that was the truth on how his name came to be, didn't matter ... Carole just sat there mesmerized by the story and the song.
On the way home that night things were a little tense between us as I complained about the attention she showered on good ol’ Hal between sets. Her response made things even colder when she suggested that maybe I ought to stay home Saturday so we could spend some time away from each other. Now that was a long time ago, but I think I burned some rubber as I let her off, popped the clutch on the old flathead and tore away from her home.
A bit of remorse set in on Saturday morning and I decided to swallow my pride and drive over to Carole's house to make up. As I drove down her street, I couldn't help but notice the turquoise ' 56 Oldsmobile convertible with Arkansas plates in her driveway. Good ol' Hal was bird-doggin' my girl. The irony of it all was that as I drove away in disgust, "It's Only Make Believe" came on the radio in my car.
Rick Rae is vice president of Triple Crown Media Inc. E-mail him at rae@triplecrown.com
As some TBN'ers know, I retired as a newspaper executive and sometimes contributed columns to our newspapers. Here is one I wrote about Conway Twitty.
At the risk of boring y'all I thought I would post it here.
Bronzebird
Bringing back old Memories
I caught a piece of a song from the' 50s channel on XM radio the other night that brought back a flood of memories. The song was "It's Only Make Believe" from 1959. You trivia buffs out there know that this song was first recorded by Conway Twitty, but this story goes much deeper than that.
In the fall of 1958, I was living in my hometown of Hamilton, Ontario. Hamilton is just over the Canadian border about 60 miles north of Buffalo. I was dating a girl named Carole and on Thursday and Friday evenings we would drop into the Flamingo lounge to listen to the rock 'n' roll acts that appeared there. One of our favorites was a guy from Arkansas named Harold Jenkins, who played some guitar and had a growly voice that handled the late' 50s hits he covered pretty well. Between sets he would sit at our table, probably attracted more by Carole's blond good looks than by my stirring conversation.
Hal was just one of many singers from the United States who found their way to Canada in the 50’s. Promoters would book them into Southern Ontario towns, probably figuring if they could make it in those towns, they could have potential to go to the big time back home.
Interestingly enough, three Arkansas boys hit the Southern Ontario circuit about the same time. Ronnie Hawkins played the Cote d'Or in Toronto backed by a drummer named Levon Helm, and then there was Hal Jenkins. His curly hair and good looks were set off well in the beautiful turquoise '56 Oldsmobile convertible he drove.
In the spring of 1959, Jenkins returned to Canada for another booking, but things had changed a lot. He had just cut a record titled "It's Only Make Believe" and it was climbing the charts. He also had a new name. We still called him Hal, but the poster out front of the lounge said he was Conway Twitty.
"The promoters told me," he said, "that Harold Jenkins wasn't a strong enough name for a performer. So, I took the road Atlas and plunked my thumb and forefinger down on two towns. One was Conway, Arkansas, and the other was Twitty, Texas."
Now whether that was the truth on how his name came to be, didn't matter ... Carole just sat there mesmerized by the story and the song.
On the way home that night things were a little tense between us as I complained about the attention she showered on good ol’ Hal between sets. Her response made things even colder when she suggested that maybe I ought to stay home Saturday so we could spend some time away from each other. Now that was a long time ago, but I think I burned some rubber as I let her off, popped the clutch on the old flathead and tore away from her home.
A bit of remorse set in on Saturday morning and I decided to swallow my pride and drive over to Carole's house to make up. As I drove down her street, I couldn't help but notice the turquoise ' 56 Oldsmobile convertible with Arkansas plates in her driveway. Good ol' Hal was bird-doggin' my girl. The irony of it all was that as I drove away in disgust, "It's Only Make Believe" came on the radio in my car.
Rick Rae is vice president of Triple Crown Media Inc. E-mail him at rae@triplecrown.com
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